Dear Cherished Interested’s,


I answered a Dear Mentor’s questions this last week. Interested ones often think alike so here are some of my answers.

Seminary is at a full halt at the moment. It's in God's hands. I have been counseled, regarding my education, by Reverend Dr. Mungure a graduate of Makumira, to attend instead the Open University of Tanzania. This is an on-line school and internet is poor at best. So, I have been unable to access the website. There remain Government entanglements that cannot be resolved without internet access and payment by phone for services as well so my palms are open to the earth and I am letting go of that for now.. must wait to see what comes.

The week before last week Bishop Kitoi, who was a missionary Pastor from here to both urban and rural Wisconsin for over 15 years, preached every service at the cathedral in Usa, TZ. Even though busy, and at the age where he has been having the deaths of his wife's parents and his own this spring, he went out of his way to look Hilda and I in the eye and speak about our common ground, not only as missionaries, but as people who love both Tanzania and The United States.

This he fearlessly did as part of service. He also asked us to share one of our fears for the world of our present moment. It is easy to feel helpless with war is once again in Europe. Eighty years have passed since the European war my parents’ generation survived at tremendous known and unknown cost.

As Hilda and I had been talking already, I spoke not of war but a faltering economy. A faltering US economy and a monetary policy that devalues the US currency inflicts tremendous harm to the citizens of the US. Also, that degradation of the US dollar, also devalues many local currencies around the world tied to it. So as the US economy degrades making life much harder in the US, that same faltering economy literally kills people around the world who have no access to safety nets of any kind.

Bishop called our nation, the US, “That mighty Nation”. If the US economy catches a cold, people around the world die. Our choices affect others whether we know it or not, whether we see them or not.

The only reason Bishop Kitoi left his mission work in Wisconsin was that his fellows at home voted him in as Bishop in his absence. And then they called him home to serve them here. He is glad to be home however I am sure of a few things from brief conversations with him. He is still a missionary. He misses that hard work he was doing in the U.S. The job of being pastor to pastors is vital but difficult. Changes he is trying to shepherd into place for his folks here are coming slowly, but he is not a quitter.

Makumira University may be one of those changes that has to wait for now. Restructuring his church of charge to free up his pastors and motivate them into deeper evangelistic outreach through being and walking with the people in their poverty, hunger, lack of health care, and all the seemingly unnecessary death, is serious work. Education is all part of that however that involves the national church too. Generations of presumptions can build even in just the little over one century that the church has been here. These are my thoughts. I share them in confidence with you. We face similar with our own layers of church so comfortable with familiar presumptions in the US too.

I did preach again last Sunday, for Reverend Mungure, at the cathedral in Usa. On my way to service, I got the text that his scheduled pastor was unable to be there.

I can only preach knowing that I am not enough and that I am therefore not alone.

Somehow I can get their attention and keep it. I don’t just remind and declare Grace but I challenge and read aloud always scripture after scripture about this Jesus who made and makes everything except ”easy” possible.

I am aware that, as a large white man from the wealthiest nation in human history, I am able to speak plainly about not only the salvation of everyone in service but the salvation of everyone that every one of them is to be part of. I pray and prepare with whatever time I have. I have citations marked with little bits of paper in my bi-lingual Bible. Then words are given and I let them go. Somehow I am able to go from eye to eye in front of me, and last Sunday even a few outside the windows who were leaning forward to listen. God can and does use anyone.

Hilda was sick Sunday. So, I preached in the big sanctuary downstairs at 7:00 am for English service, drove up the mountain to collect our mostly regular two local teenage polyglot helpers and had praise/Sunday school with the boarding students at Silverleaf. Then back up the mountain to The Children’s Village for praise/Sunday school with those living there and singing and preaching just with and for the Mamas who are there 24/7 with the forty or so who still need to be in residential care.

Hilda and I are serving with only each other among adult young ones still trying to figure out how to keep children fed and receiving an education, and how to help others do the same. This in a context within which the church seems significantly irrelevant to keeping children fed and receiving an education. That is not a completely fair representation. It is muddy waters at best.

There are the casual thoughtless contempt’s for the work we do as missionaries, the same ones faced at home. There are, so far, fewer legal hurdles here. I do not have my job threatened as I did consistently at the State Parks for acknowledging God and not the state as ultimate authority. I remain unemployed here but for the free work that the world sees no value in. If it did, everyone would be doing it. It is that important.

Also, we are seen locally as elders who are not to do physical work. We are seen as not needed for such things and are not to displace local workers who know “the right way” of doing things. It’s a constant vacillation between the unwilling discovery that Vern can do things that were hitherto thought un-do-able and Vern being in the way. As you know, survival can leave even the most competent running in circles without them knowing it. Patience.. patience.. patience..

Most importantly though is the Children who know and trust us. Hilda, known as a teacher monitoring and teaching teachers on campus, is a lead in that.

However last Sunday without her showed that I have become accepted by the children as well, and not only as someone who consistently reads the Bible to and with them. This is a responsibility. The littles at The Children’s Village come from the hardest of situations and bear the many traumas. Some who are now boarding at Silverleaf Academy come from similar.

You know.. just walking into the impossible moment by moment and there to see God’s irrepressible surprises. Like last evening and Hilda walking home after Story-time at Silverleaf.

Story-time is where volunteers from the US or Europe brave the vagaries of technology and try to read aloud, live over a zoom call, a story sent them. They read this story to the children living right here. This happens Friday night at Silverleaf and Saturday night at The Children’s Village.

Hilda has yet to completely remove herself from this non-science education piece and likely won’t from Friday night story-time on campus near the house. This because, well.., she gets escorted home by some particularly precious and curious people. She is not allowed to carry her computer or anything else and the last two Fridays she has gotten swept home by a group of young women/girls who won’t even let her carry her own hands. The number has been growing over time, somewhere about a dozen now.

I’ve tried to meet them outside to look each in the eye and thank them for taking care of Hilda and seeing her home. Then they hand me Hilda’s things while looking up at me like they’ve never seen me before, which they have at least two times a week.

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As we are most significantly tent-makers, we don’t have any tracking nor reporting mechanism for donations. If tracking and reporting is important, what I’ve asked those who are listening and responding, with us in mind, to do is to please give through their local church. That gives folks records for tax purposes and maybe even opportunity to share a little about what’s going on with whoever may be interested. So far, individual folks have and are pitching in. .. amazing, just amazing ..

I am sure we can do this part better but unaccompanied by an organization, as we are, leaves us lacking some types of support that would enable us to better and more fully respond in this area. I apologize. I go dizzy with what I cannot accomplish at all, let alone well.

We are however grateful for the work we find before us; and what happens in spite of our not being enough, yet are here for none the less.

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I met another amazing Islamic man this last week. He is a fourth generation gemstone magnate who has met US Presidents and has the pictures to prove it. He is literally called the king of Tanzanite, a locally only found gemstone, rarer than diamond. He and his wife continue to build museums while supporting the drilling of village wells. He and his wife support outreach to schools, orphanages, and the Tanzanian albino community who are isolated and even targeted in some areas.

I mention this extremely wealthy man because he was at work with his employees at their cultural arts museum in Arusha on a public holiday. He happily showed us gemstones we will never be able to purchase, carefully describing the chemistry and means of geological manufacture of each. He was happy and engaged bragging on his crew of cutters, polishers, and fitters, artists all and many, like him, having learned their trade from their fathers and grandfathers.

What is most important about this man is how he really came to life when discovering we are Christian missionaries. This knowledge of us allowed him to talk about his family’s involvement in and for the community. He knows every person his business supports, their spouses and children, their community involvements, their joys and concerns. That is what brings both him and his spouse life. Their treasure is not gemstones, it is people.

I needed to meet this man of tremendous wealth whose family could, but has chosen never to flee but instead stay and strive within, the poverty of their immediate world. He seemed very happy to meet me. I wanted you to meet him too.

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That brave mother of three from last blogpost is recovering. Thank You. Please keep on –

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What to Pray for:

Our armed forces families, our leadership, our people, whole world round, all of Gods kids -

All the tough and blessing expressed above –

The love of folks –

Whatever is on your hearts and minds for us –

For our children and grand-children who miss us.. we miss them too..

I continue to be under much harsh spiritual attack concerning my sense of self-worth and those many things I have yet to get to, please, only as you are comfortable, remember me, indeed us.. the world doesn’t like what we are doing out of love we don’t own.. yet have none the less -

For Makumira Secondary School looking to share stories and partner in some way with a foreign school, Great leaders, teachers, students, programs, strong backs, minds, and hearts –

For our health to stay ahead of whatever is before us –

For a way for us to invest with our experience and even financially in support of local industrious people so we can afford to stay and continue to make a difference one face at a time –

For those who have braved the donate button to discover Kajun Crofton, our daughter who helps getting each one of your donations to us and every blogpost to where you can read it –

For you who find other ways to uplift and support us -

For each and every one of you –

Each and every one of your prayers, your precious conversations with God –

Prayers, Your Prayer, Even groaning prayers make all the difference..

Vern W

May Life be as Music to your Heart - May Music be as Heart to your Life 

- May Heart be as Life to your Music -