Tuesday, November 4, 2014

7 ...of dry season delights, and dreaming of rain...

Hi there!  Yes, it's me, I'm still alive.  Very much alive, even tho I feel like I might soon be looking like a dried out prune.  But even prunes have their strong points, and so maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.  :-o   The wind whisks briskly over the parched earth, picking up whirlwinds of dust and flinging it uncaringly in any direction.  I gingerly pull back the top sheet of my bed, watching the layer of dust drift to the floor, joining the rest of it's gritty counterparts crunching beneath my flip flops.  My eyes smart with the presence of the sandy intruders. We sweep and clean, only to have the next gust of wind coat everything in a fine layer of dust all over again.  The wind means rain is coming.  But it could be a full month before we see rain, and this layer of dust the earth is caked in will no longer be flung haphazardly about.  I think I shall need a double dosage of grace to "give thanks in everything" these next few weeks.  I was kind of failing in the thankful part today, and was suddenly reminded that God has important lessons for me to learn even through the seemingly carnal, earthly annoyance of dry season in Ivuna.  I decided it's necessary to choose to focus on the good and make the most of these weeks of longing for RAIN! 

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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