Yes,
we long for rain- physical rain to water the parched ground and bring
life to the dried out soil but even more so we long for the rain of the
Spirit of the living God to be poured out in abundance upon us and our
people here in Ivuna. That the waters of LIFE would be opened in
torrents upon the bone-dry existence that satan and his legions have had
free reign over. That they would be forced to give in to the Almighty
God who is all powerful and has already won the battle over hell and the
grave. I'm so glad to be on the winning side!
It
happens in small ways- sprinkles of rain that sink into the parched
ground and you wonder if you'll ever see fruit. A genuine smile and
gentle touch to a sad soul. A bandage and word of encouragement to
another person. A bottle of water to a dehydrated village outcast that
no one else cared about. Taking time to really hear what's going on in
the lives of a patient or two and taking an extra moment to pray with
them and point them to the Living Water. Singing songs about the power
of the blood to a stricken village "crazy man" (crazy because the demons
have destroyed his life) who is now laid up with a terrible broken leg
that no one seems very active about caring for. Striving to live a life
of holiness and purity that points people to the One you serve, and
praying that your own insecurities and mistakes will be diminished in
the light of Jesus Christ shining through. It's amazing how Jesus
works through us poor, weak human beings with dusty feet and messy,
wind-blown hair.
It
happens in bigger ways- when a shower of the life giving rain drenches a
soul. Such as last Sunday. It was a hot, stuffy morning and I was
tired. The service got a bit long for this brain that doesn't exactly
follow Swahili with ease yet. Toward the end of the service, Kredo
mentioned a friend of his that has been having problems with demon
activity and wanted us to together and pray for her. It was sad to see
the bondage Mele found herself in- so many things she wasn't allowed to
do by command of the demons (a few of these included not eating catfish,
pork, or pombe, not being allowed to go to her father's house, and not
being allowed to see a dead body). About two years ago, her father
became a witchdoctor, and that is how long it's been since Mele's been
plagued with demons. Tim was explaining how she needs to have a desire
to follow Christ, and prayed with her. She was attacked by her demons
during this time, and certain words would get stuck in her throat as Tim
was leading her in prayer. It was exciting to see them cast out and
watch Mele relax after it. After some time of talking and sharing with
her- encouraging her to be serious about following Jesus and to seek Him
actively- we headed home.
This
week we have been actively seeking Mele out, visiting with her and
asking her how she's doing. It's been exciting watching her actively
taking steps to announce to the spirit world that she is following
Jesus, things like going to her father's house on purpose and telling
him that she's following Jesus now, and finding catfish to eat. Tim, of
course, took the opportunity to tell her that drinking pombe is still
not the way of Jesus. Her eyes are beautiful, shining and clear, and
she's welcomed Trudy and I sweetly every time we stop by to visit her.
PRAY for Mele... while her soul has been freed from the bondage of her
captors, the battle is only beginning and she needs the body of Christ,
both far and near, to gather around her and stand in the gap for her.
Two
weeks ago, after a week in town, we were headed back to Ivuna again,
all of us (excluding our visitors who were now back in their own homes)
were piled back into the Land Rover along with our "appealing"
conglomeration of luggage loaded both inside the vehicle and strapped to
the top. Judging by some of the stares we received along the way, it
must have been a funny sight. We were at our first stop in Mbeya,
taking care of some last minute town items, when Tim heard the sinking
sound of a leak in the one tire. Away we sailed to the tire shop, where
we sat back and watched the men fix our tire. Then back we were on the
road again, headed to Mlowo. But first, a stop at Ifisi to visit an
old friend of the Zeiset's who was back for a visit in the country. And
again, we were back in the Rover, headed home. Until Tim made a
comment that no one wanted to hear- the clutch was slipping. In Mlowo,
Tim had a mechanic check it out while the rest of us ate rice and ugali
and beans and greens at our favorite little "Mkulima Restaurant".
The
mechanic was not able to fix the problem, so Tim and his family decided
to head back to Mbeya. Trudy and I, feeling the need to get home and
back to the clinic, grabbed our personal bags and loaded hastily on a
lorry, meanwhile, feeling very sorry for Sheryl and Teresa who were
bravely trying to accept their change of plans. By this time, all the
Ivuna bound lorries were gone, and the only one left was one bound for
Kamsamba. As usual, the slogan "hurry up and wait" proved true in
Africa, as it was over an hour before the lorry pulled out of Mlowo. We
took the slow route- stopping here and stopping there, no hurry
whatsoever. It was late before we got to the mountains, and by then I
was not feeling well at all, neither was Trudy. We hung over the bars
and I was concentrating on not puking everywhere. Darkness had long
overtaken, and our feet were cramped as we had our backpacks in close
proximity near by, keeping an eye on our electronics and money just
pulled from the bank that morning. But somehow, in the cover of the
darkness, someone had an opportunity to steal Trudy's purse, along with
her debit card and a wad of cash, from one of her outside backpack
pockets. Trudy began asking neighboring ladies and searching bags- and
before long, the entire lorry was in an uproar. The driver and his
conductor began searching every bag and every inch of the lorry.
Eventually her wallet showed up, along with the debit card, but no
money.
I
was sitting there in the inky blackness of the night, lit only by a
handful of small lights of the village we found ourselves parked in and a
few weak cellphone flashlights utilized by the occupants of the lorry.
I began to doubt that the money and the person carrying it were even on
the lorry anymore, as they would've had a chance to escape by then.
But the men weren't about to give up, and after finding nothing in the
luggage, decided to have each person step down one at a time and receive
a body search. I sat back on a huge sack of something somewhat soft
and kept a tight hold on our luggage. I prayed that God would help us
to respond properly so that Jesus would be seen. Suddenly an uproar
ensued full of cheering and clapping and I guessed, correctly, that the
money had been found. It had been nearly an hour since Trudy had
discovered her wallet was missing, and we were finally able to pile back
on the lorry and continue our journey. Later, somewhere down the road,
we stopped again and had an entire lorry discussion about the
situation, and with all the evidence presented, it was very clear that
the hidden chunk of money located on the thief definitely was Trudy's.
Trudy also got a chance to share to the entire lorry that we've forgiven
the woman, and it's not the money we're most concerned about, it's her
soul.
We
arrived in Itumbula around 11:30 pm, and had to get off the lorry. It
rumbled off the direction opposite Ivuna in a flurry of dust and lights,
leaving us sitting with our luggage in the middle of a very deserted
village center area. Eventually Warren and another piki driver arrived
on motorcycles and transported us the last 15 minutes to our home. How
VERY welcoming home looked, even tho it was positively filthy and it was
so late.
It's
now Sunday afternoon, warm and intense. Teresa and I got our heads
together and made a pot of luke-warm coffee, (since it was a bit of a
stretch to call it iced coffee) and we're all engaging in meaningful
quality time with our communication devices (aka laptops). :) Once the
intensity of the afternoon sun isn't quite so sharp, we'll go to the
next village of Kalungu to do some door to door evangelism.
::before
the world, aye, before the sleepy, lukewarm, faithless, namby-pamby
christian world, we will dare to trust our God. We will venture all for
Him and we will do it with His joy unspeakable singing aloud in our
hearts. C.T.Studd::
Keep us in your prayers. and remind me of that sometimes- i love hearing from the other side of the world!
Because of Jesus,
Kim
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