SPEAK Success

I am beyond dumbfounded.  We just finished a six-day camp at a secondary school way out in the village.  I have eaten more rice and beans, and more cassava, than I ever thought possible.  I drank so much tea my eyeballs are still floating.  I shocked some African girls by carrying water on my head.  And I am now, officially, a Squatty Potty Pro.

But none of that comes close to being the highlight of the week that was the SPEAK Student Leader Camp.  Twenty-six youth from schools and neighborhoods.  Even as they were arriving at camp on Saturday, our team really had no idea what was going to happen.  For all we knew, this week could be a colossal flop.  But the Holy Spirit moved… and never really stopped.  Two students we’ve loved and prayed over for over a year chose to follow Christ.  Students learned Bible stories and got excited about leading discussions.  They spent time studying the Word on their own, many for the first time.  Some are asking questions about believer’s baptism and what it means to be a man or woman of God.  They, and we, have been challenged to change the way we think and act.  The leaders of the existing story groups at Crane, Mandela, Vurra, and Ushindi schools have made plans for how they will move forward with their groups in the next few weeks, and other students are planning to start four new groups in their schools and neighborhoods.  And, better yet, these students want to keep meeting together, to encourage and pray for each other, and study the Word together—sounds sort of like a church!

When we first came up with this hare-brained idea of a camp ten months ago, I honestly thought we were all crazy.  We had virtually no leaders on our campuses; Kelli and I were doing it all.  We really weren’t sure if we would even have any students to invite.  But God got them here.  He created the interest.  He helped them learn the stories.  He made them bold.  And He did more in a week than we’ve done in almost two years.  These kids are fired up.  They’re asking God to speak, and they’re listening when He does.  They’re writing songs.  Making changes.  Stepping up.  Falling in love with Him and His Word.

I know none of this is about me.  God has done more in six days than I ever imagined was possible.  I’ve seen changes in Carol, Joann, Macklyn, Joe, Kenneth, and Arnold  (yes, even ARNOLD!) that I never expected.  I’m just thrilled that He invited me to be a part of what He planned to do all along.

He doesn’t need us, but He lets us put our hands in.

                        -Caedmon’s Call, “Two Weeks in Africa”

Call to Me, and I will answer you, and show you great and marvelous things which you do not know.

                        Jeremiah 33:3

Expect the Unexpected

I love how God can do, and usually does, the totally unexpected. I
went to Ushindi Secondary to help Macklyn, a precious girl with one of
the sweetest spirits ever, to prepare to lead the Sunday story group.
She had never led before, but didn't hesitate to volunteer to lead the
story of the Ten Commandments. She had been studying the story all
week. She was pumped.

So Macklyn and I sat on a mat under a tree on her campus.  She told the story beautifully the very first time, with only a couple of points that needed clarification.  Then we used the SPEAK method to dissect the story, looking for sins, promises, examples, applications, and knowledge about God.  We discussed the commandments and what they mean for us today.  As we were finishing up, I asked Macklyn if she had any other questions about the story—something we hadn’t talked about yet.  Immediately, she asked me, “Why did God tell the Israelites not to touch Mount Sinai or they would die?”  (Exodus 19:12-13)  Wow!  What a great question!

We talked about God’s holiness, and what that means, and about how the people were sinful and unholy, and therefore separated from God.  How God was protecting them by warning them, because His holy nature was just too much for them.  I gave her the example of the Holy of Holies in the temple, and how the people’s sinful nature kept them from God’s presence.  And we talked about how, when Jesus died, the veil in the temple was torn, giving us total access to the God of the universe. (Luke 23:45)

I left Ushindi on Saturday thinking that Macklyn had gotten a little more theology than she had bargained for, but really excited to see her lead the next day… then again, I love anything that gets me out to USS.  It’s just a special place.

Sunday morning, I got up bright and early and made it out to Ushindi in plenty of time for the morning church service on campus.  After the worship service was finished, about 10 students gathered together under “our tree”.  Rose retold the Passover story from the week before (no small feat—it’s REALLY long!), and Macklyn moved on to the Ten Commandments.  Not surprisingly, she did an awesome job!  The story was flawless, and she did an excellent job facilitating SPEAK with the other students.  After what turned out to be a meaty discussion, Macklyn threw out one more question to the group: “Why did God tell the Israelites not to touch the mountain or they would die?”

Okay, so I guess our discussion the day before had made an impression on her.   After a few blank stares, she proceeded to explain God’s holiness compared to our sinfulness, which led to a discussion about how the death of Jesus opened access to God for us.  I did a lot of explaining about how the only thing that can reconcile us to the Father is the blood of Jesus—no deeds, no offerings, no sacrifices, just faith, which is so difficult for them to grab hold of.  Several students asked questions and made statements, and eventually one boy, David, asked, “If we’ve never asked Jesus to forgive our sins once and for all, can we do it today?”  Uh, yeah!  We talked it through a little more, and by the end of the story group, both David and Macklyn had accepted Christ!  Glory!

Lately, I’m thinking that when it comes to my wonderful Maker, it’s best to just expect the unexpected.  I mean, really… who gets saved from talking about the Ten Commandments?  And for the “leader” to be humble enough to accept Christ is a pretty big deal—especially here.  But I have to say, I love that He’s so unpredictable, and that I have no idea how His mind works.  And a part of me wants to say, “Okay, so what are You going to do next?”

And the other part of me just wants to be surprised.

We Need Your Prayers!

Our team desperately needs your prayers for our upcoming student leadership camp.  We've invited 32 students to come to Ushindi Secondary School on Saturday, August 14.  The 6-day camp will run until Thursday, August 19, and is intended to prepare students to lead small groups at their schools by themselves, since Kelli and I leave in October.  We have a team of 7 volunteers coming from Iowa to lead small groups and to lead evening worship sessions through the book of Philippians.  Students will be challenged to learn and lead discussions of Bible stories.  They will be having daily quiet times, some for the first time ever!  Many of these students are seekers, but not believers, so first and foremost pray for their salvation!  Pray that God will change them and give them the desire to be agents of change on their campus.  Please pray also for health and safety, for both students, volunteers, and those of us who live in Arua.  We'll all be staying in the school dorms and eating local food all week, which might be a little out of some people's comfort zone!  We'll also be playing lots of games and what I expect to be pretty intense volleyball and soccer matches- pray that no one gets hurt!!!  Our team is already experiencing spiritual warfare in several different areas, which we think is all directly related to the upcoming camp... which is encouraging, that the Enemy is so threatened by what God's going to do!  Pray for us to continually keep our focus on Him and His glory, and that Satan and his forces would be bound from the Ushindi campus and from the hearts of these students during this time.  Thanks for your prayers-- I'll keep you updated!

students from Vurra Secondary

Arnold (a strong leader, but needs Jesus)

Herbert

Thom

Kenneth (has been seeking for a while-- pray that it's time!)

Nester

Evelyn

Peter

Samuel

Oprah

students from Mandela Secondary

Mercy

Diana

Edith

Sylvia

Christine

Dinah

Linda

students from Ushindi Secondary (the school hosting us)

Comfort (a STRONG believer)

Joann

Kenneth

Rose (leading music)

Macklyn (just accepted Christ this week)

Rachel (leading music)

students from Crane Secondary

Carol (accepted Christ in June)

Prisca

Derek

Peter

Godfrey (Catholic background, has lots of questions)

students from other schools

Thomas Titus (a STRONG believer)

Joe

Charlotte

Grace

Lawrence

Duck Duck Chicken

Two weeks ago, a group of little girls from the neighborhood met me at my gate.  After the usual round of hugs and tickles, they told me they wanted to have Bible study.  I asked them what they wanted to study, and they said they wanted to hear Bible stories.  Well, okay!  Thus began the Saturday morning kids' club in my backyard.

It's all pretty simple.  They come, drink some water, eat some cookies.  I tell a Bible story, and we talk about it.  (Getting them to talk is like pulling teeth, but it happens every now and then.)  then we play games.  Lots of games.

It's pretty clear that I haven't worked in children's ministry for a while, because I couldn't think of any games to play without balls or jumpropes or some kind of materials.  All that came to mind was Duck Duck Goose.  So I started trying to explain.  It's a simple game, so that part was easy.  I asked them about ducks, and found out that "duck" in Lugbara is "mbata".  But then we hit a snag, because a goose is also called "mbata."  I did some quick thinking and remembered that chicken is "au"  (ah-oo).  So we played "Mbata Mbata Au"—Duck Duck Chicken.

I wanted to play Red Light, Green Light with them, but how do you explain a stop light to kids who haven't even seen a stop sign?  So we turned it into 1-2-3 Go instead.  Today was bright and sunny (and hot!) so we played "Endrika"- shadow tag… which they all loved.

And now I have officially come to the end of my game repertoire.  Any suggestions for good, non-neck breaking games for 3-to-9 year olds are appreciated.  (Thanks, Red Rover, but I'll pass!)  Please pray for the Saturday morning kids' club—that we'll be able to communicate well with these sweet friends, that the national kids will develop good friendships with the MK kids on our team, and that they all would come to understand just how much Jesus loves them!

On a Bad Day...

Every now and then, there comes a day when I want to be anywhere but here. Maybe there's a conflict going on between different people- or myself. Maybe I'm frustrated with work. Maybe the power and the water are out on the same day. Or maybe I just want to be home.

But more often than not, on these days, something happens that reminds me why I'm here. It may be a conversation with Jesca or Carol. Maybe my friend Ayiko (aka "Old Baby") runs up and gives me a huge hug.  Maybe a story group will have a record turnout. Maybe Prisca or Joann will tell a story from memory better than I ever could. Somehow, those little things just make all the chaos and frustration of life here worth it.

Last week, I was having one of those days. Things were just BAD. I set off for Crane, pessimistically thinking that we probably wouldn't have anyone even show up. As I walked down the path to the school, my "usual crowd" of preschoolers met me as I passed their homestead.  Usually, 5 or 6 (or even more) will all come running, tackle me with hugs, and watch while 2 or 3 of them (my favorites—I'll admit it) walk on to the school with me. But on this day, they all decided to come along. Before I knew what was happening, I was walking (very slowly) down the narrow path with 7 preschoolers holding my fingers and walking in front of and behind me. One little boy had even left without his pants! We arrived (finally) at Crane, and they wouldn't leave.

I have no idea if these little babies know why I come to their village every week. I don't know why they come running to me like they do.  And I can't communicate well enough in Lugbara to tell them stories about Jesus to explain. But I can pray for them, that God will put someone in their path to teach them His truth. And on those days, when I really don't want to be here, that's enough to keep the suitcases put away.

Keep Moving Forward

Two things you need to know:

1)   I've been using piki-pikis, the local transport, more regularly.  A piki is a private motorcycle taxi.  For a small price, a driver will take you to the door of wherever you want to go, and will often wait for you to conduct your business there, if you ask.  When I'm wearing a skirt, I sit on the back side-saddle with my legs crossed.

2)   The real rainy season, with daily rain, has finally come… about 3 months later than normal. 

The other day I had to got to Crane Secondary School for a student story group, and had a meeting with a teacher at Mandela Secondary before it.  Crane and Mandela are on opposite sides of town, but the meeting at Mandela was to be very short, and I had plenty of time for both.  There's a piki station around the corner from my house, where several drivers wait for customers.  As it comes time to leave my house to walk to the piki station, it starts to rain a bit.  No big deal; it's just a little drizzle, and the sky is clear.  Surely this will just be one of those two-minute showers we've had so many of.  And I know I won't melt… so I set off.  I haven't even gotten out of the neighborhood when the rain picks up, so I find a big tree on the side of the road to stand under.  After a couple of minutes, the rain slacks off, so I start moving again.  By the time I get around the corner to my friend Irene's shop, it's coming down hard again, so I sit on her porch until it's just barely sprinkling.  It's now taken over 15 minutes just to get out of the neighborhood, but now it's time to go. 

I start toward the road and a piki driver, Robert, sees me.  He picks me up and we take off for town.  It's still raining just a bit, but only a drop or two, so it's no big deal.  We get about halfway down the main road in town and see that in the next block the sky is dark and there is an absolute downpour… and it's coming fast!  Robert pulls over at a bank, and I hop off the bike and find shelter under the awning just in time.  By the time Robert gets under the awning, the rain is coming down in sheets!  The street is instantly deserted, with everyone hiding from the rain in shops and doorways.  We sit for almost ten minutes waiting for the deluge to ease.

When it's finally slowed enough to not get soaked, Robert dries off the motorcycle seat and we try again.  We go about two blocks and the rain starts coming down again.  Robert pulls over again, this time at a soft drink depot crowded with people.  People are apparently shocked to see a white woman out in the rain, as I hear lots of "mundu" statements, and see lots of sideways glances and smirks in my direction.

As soon as the rain slacks off, Robert decides its time to go again, and we drive off… less than a block this time before the rain chases us inside again.  We take shelter with a barber who just smiles at the sight of a stubborn, dripping mundu.  Another ten minutes later, the rain has really slowed, and Robert decides it's time to brave the road one more time.  This time as we set off, the sky is clearing and the rain keeps slowing.

But now we've turned off the main, paved road onto a dirt road that hasn't been helped by the sudden downpour.  There's lots of mud, several small rivers crossing our path, and heaps of now-muddy garbage scattered all over the road.  We finally make it to Mandela, where my meeting really does take less time than it took to get there.  We travel on to Crane with no problems, but the day's ride surely isn't the most enjoyable journey I've had on a piki.

God doesn't promise us "enjoyable".  Or "comfortable".  There are times when we're pretty much guaranteed to be wet, cold, or muddy when we get where we're going.  Times when people will laugh at us.  Times when we see people around us getting stuck, scared, stranded, or even falling over.  Times when our plans get put on hold once, twice, or even five times before we finally get where we're going.  Times when we'd really just prefer to go home, put on sweats, and curl up with a cup of coffee.

But that's not what we're called to do.  He tells us to keep moving forward, even if it's just one step at a time.  Even if our feet are cold and muddy and our hair is falling in our eyes from the rain.  Even if it takes us three times longer than we expected.  The one thing He tells us NOT to do is to give up!

So here's the upside to my perseverance:  I get two more chances to share Jesus with girls at Mandela.  And when I got to the village where the Crane campus is located, 6 little kids came running to meet me and give me huge hugs.  What a blessing… definitely worth the muddy feet!

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

Galatians 6:9

In Need

I admit it.  The past few weeks have been rough.  I’ve been tired.  I’ve been frustrated.  And, to be quite honest, I haven’t liked Africa very much.  Things here that are completely common have been wearing on me.  Things like…

My friend Jesca’s sister-in-law had a miscarriage last year, and her body didn’t completely get rid of the baby.  She developed an infection, and treated herself with the wrong kind of medication for a year before she died.  She was 22.

I have a precious friend named Ayiko (“Happy”) who is 4 years old.  He’s bright, giggly, and such a joy… the kind of kid I would gladly fold up and put in my suitcase to bring home.  His toothless grin is just a small part of his charm.  But then you realize that 4 year olds aren’t supposed to be toothless, and the only reason he is, is because all his front baby teeth have rotted out.  Which just makes me sad.

My friend Irene runs a business and is struggling financially.  I’m working with her on how to manage her money and be a good steward of what God’s given her.  Buying her cooking charcoal in bulk would be one small way to save money.  Charcoal here comes in basins for $1.50, or in large bags for $10.  A bag should last at least two months, while the same amount’s worth of basins would only last about a month.  But if word got out to Irene’s friends and neighbors that she had a whole bag of charcoal, people would come to her, expecting her to share… and culturally, she would be obliged to.  The large bag wouldn’t last any longer than the small basins do.

I visited a village this weekend with a friend, and quickly bonded with a 5-year-old girl named Sylvia.  As we were preparing to leave, her mother asked me, a perfect stranger, if I wanted to take her with me.  I almost said yes.

My heart has been hurting for Africa.  I have been so pained over the way things are here, over the difficulties and struggles of life that really don’t have to be.  I’ve felt an utter helplessness for life here, for the sweet people I know here who work all day, every day, just to keep food in their bowls, a roof over their heads, and their children in school.  And I have been reminded, more than ever before, that the only hope for Africa is Jesus. 

When Ayiko, the toothless 4-year-old, arrived at our house the other day for volleyball, I went out to greet him and Carol, the student he comes with.  (Carol is one of our students and Ayiko is her neighbor.  He started tagging along with her to volleyball and Bible study a few weeks ago.)  As soon as Ayiko saw me, he went to Carol and took a big, fabric-wrapped something from her and gave it to me.  Then he got really shy.  I asked Carol what was going on, and she said he wanted to give me a present.  I unwrapped it to find a carving of two giraffes, one big and one small.  I was thrilled, stunned, and completely humbled.  I thanked him over and over, and then went to put my prize inside the house before I started crying.  When I came back outside, I asked Carol where this out-of-the blue present came from.  She said Ayiko told his mother “he wanted a gift for his friend.”  How sweet!

A few minutes later, when Ayiko had gotten over his unusual shyness, I went over to him and asked him, “Did you know that giraffes are my favorite animal?”  He looked at me, grinned, and nodded.  “You told me!”  (Well, at least there’s one male in my life who pays attention!)

Jesus knew that I’ve been struggling.  Been heartsick.  Been grieving over the way life is here.  And he knew that I needed to be loved on by my sweet, pint-sized friend.  To know that, no matter what, I’ve made at least a small impact on a small person in Africa.  And that Africa has made a big impact on me.  He knew what I needed.   And He made sure I got it—in just the right way, at just the right time. I have to remember.  I have to trust Him.  And I have to believe that He loves my friends and all of Africa more than I could ever begin to.

“…my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.”  Philippians 4:19