Dear Cherished Interested’s,                                                                                           Oct 27-28th 2022

We’re still without Passports.  They are in capable Tanzanian hands and being taken to high immigration authority for renewal of our Visa’s, God willing.  .. Somebody knew that..

Local immigration came onto the Academy site as I was leaving for a meeting on Monday this week.  Four or so angry men wearing suits in a new Toyota Hilux.  I had pulled over between trees so the children could have right of way as they walked to the dining hall.  The herding teachers had to gather the children off to the side anyway as the Government pick-up was not waiting for anyone. 

I was headed out.  They were headed in.  My truck off to the side surrounded by little smiling children all happily high fiving “Babu” through his always open window.  The immigration men glared at the white guy who studiously ignored them speaking instead with those children and a brave teacher or two.  I left knowing that I was leaving Hilda very nearly alone in the office. 

We communicated as I went about tasks off-site.  Hilda had with her a very recent Tanzanian Mother, again, and cook who loves Hilda.  Hilda was also with the gardener and caretaker who looked after Hilda’s cats and things while we were gone.  They both love Hilda.  They may be young people but they are survivors with strong backbones and appreciate what Hilda does..  and how she does it.

It was good I was not there.  Once again they left cute little Grandmother Hilda mostly well enough alone.  As other staff arrived they took turns being questioned predominantly about me.  My experience working in the Washington State Park System taught me about petty authorities being the ones most vigorously puffed and self-professed.  Fortunately these immigration men do not carry firearms. 

I don’t know who I have offended, but given how evil it truly feels, even some of the children were concerned huddling close to Hilda’s little truck, I am glad to have offended evil no matter how difficult it makes life.  We must be doing something good if we’re still here doing it ..and without paying bribes. 

To be as completely fair as I can, though, we are unaccompanied missionaries.  We do not have the protection or overt sanctioning of any church organization.  The fact I was off to meet the East African Representative of an American Lutheran Denomination, remains unknown to immigration.  He too is a foreign national, from Kenya I believe with a Ugandan spouse and several children, and does not need hassle in his job.  But being unaccompanied leaves suspicion of large white males of European origin logically at the front of minds and hence efforts.

The local Church who know, trust and use us, are Tanzanian Nationals and simply ignore immigration.  They pray for government every Sunday but otherwise strive to stay as far away as possible.  Immigration is not likely to ever know us in any deep way.  Local folks don’t trust them, don’t share about us with them, and don’t want them to know us. 

I have a helper who used to run one of the larger regions of the Tanzanian National Parks and one time almost Catholic Priest who smiles and calls me “father”, every time we meet.  He does this slightly louder if anyone else is around whom he wants to share me with.  Another precious local one choosing to be in the difficult thick of things.  Yes, he gets paid, however here where everything is paid for in advance whether there are results or not, he has consistently said he would tell me how much to pay before starting but doesn’t seem to get around to it until after results come in.  Yes, it leaves you on pins and needles, especially as he takes flights to the Nation’s Capital to handle things high enough up the food chain that higher salaries are freed, somewhat, of the graft that lower salaries are often not free of.

It’s complicated.  It’s hard.  Your Prayers keep us with people who care.  Thank You!!

I tend not to use too many names because only I should take any fallout from my communicated impressions.  But, if you would pray for those many dear ones you have prayed us among to serve and be served by it would mean the world.  Yes the world, our little world here and the connections around the world from here. 

That un-named East African Representative has read my hopes of having pastors and missionaries come for training here among some of the world’s deepest endemic poverty.  Once again I have convinced an individual, like two North American Bishops before, but, a cog in the machine.  Please pray for protection from the mechanisms of religiosity that Jesus faced.  They still live in our precious systems of faith everywhere and are tremendously jealous for the status quo, whatever that is. 

Yes, I have been given yet another brother in this young father too.  Did I mention that I did not have to read my proposal to him in person?  This very busy man took active interest reading it from what he was sent on-line and then chose to communicate on his own that he was convinced and would research further.  Did I mention that the connection was made, the meeting insisted upon, and I was taken to it by, a local Tanzanian Pastor of the local Tanzanian Lutheran Church?   

When we strive to not pour presumptions on those of us without the narrowing constraints of much higher education and it’s often divorcing influence from whole groups of God’s kids, we may get a chance to inspire each other into something more like growing living things.  I’m sure that sentence will earn me a lecture or two. 

Going to put shoes on and go talk briefly through an instructor with some littles about God.  Then I think we may even sing.  Hilda will be here soon to collect her long time problem..

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When walking from Hilda’s little house to her office we pass behind the big dining hall.  I was in transit last week and my well–used/much-abused hearing detected being called.  I looked over to see four of the little Islamic girls twirling and waving and wanting Babu to wave back. 

They know I am a Christian missionary.  The Staff know too.  The school leadership tolerates and some even like us.  Still, those little girls didn’t call me Baba/father or Mchungaji/pastor or Evanjelisiti/evangelist or Christian or Mzungu/white guy or mzee/old..  they called for Babu/grandfather, the same name all folks around here use.

Do I self-sensor when I teach?  Today, we left out one song.  It will be back.  They got a blessing made with the sign of the cross though and the sung part I wrote years ago from a prayer based on the blessing in Numbers Chapter Six. 

I am not excused.  I am not excused from including everyone I can into my day.  Am I perfect?  No..  Long ago working with people I did not choose in various occupations I had to come to grips with the fact that even folks with a Christian label may not feel like family, may be challenging, even difficult.  I am not excused. 

When others are imperiled I dust off my sandals and stay away.  If only I am imperiled then I am not excused. 

I am a sibling to everyone in the universe by virtue of being created in a common creation.  I am a sibling to everyone on the planet by virtue of being created for life here on the earth we have in common.  I am a sibling to everyone of this point in time by virtue of being created for it too.  I am a sibling of anyone of any faith that does not imperil anyone but me. 

I am also a sibling of those of the other Abrahamic traditions because The God of Sarah, mother of Abraham’s second born son, and the God of Hagar, mother of Abraham’s first born son took care of and loved both women and their sons.  That is the same God who sent his own son to die and through that adopt me into Abraham’s star-filled sky numbers and God’s own eternity with him.  I am not excused. 

Jesus is not an excuse.  Jesus is a challenge.  Should I be stupid and un-discerning?  No.. 

But I would never have the one on one conversations with people of other Abrahamic traditions that I have, giving trusted testimony because they knew me, I had been open, vulnerable, and walked through tough stuff with them too if I was sure that I was excused.  Something about sinners and prostitutes going into forever before me and my excuses just might keep me awake to hope for others.  Even those who have some violent, merciless siblings. 

Hagar’s children, Sarah’s children, God made them all.  We barbarians adopted in by God-self on the cross?  Aren’t we born of the worst violence?  Violence against Jesus?  The hands may have been the hands of the time, but the need is still mine, and yours too.

But they don’t believe Jesus is the Son of God!  Then what are we waiting for?  They’re family..  If no one else is imperiled, there really are no excuses.  Jesus died for me.  Can’t I be willing to walk with a sibling?

Please Pray for me as somehow I am sure that my many excuses exclude truly horrendous numbers leaving Abrahams night sky of numbers far darker than intended.

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Also please continue to Pray for:

Gratitude for Travel mercies for Hilda and I.. 

Gratitude for our time in the Pacific Northwest and over to Colorado for those dear children and grandchildren who miss us and whom we are overjoyed to have had time with.

Makumira Secondary School, my brilliant helper Elisha’s school, is looking to share stories and partner in some way with a foreign school, Great leaders, teachers, students, programs, strong backs, minds, and hearts –

Hilda’s invisibility to those who can only see their own authority –

Visa situation, crunch time..  We are now without our passports as we must trust them to locals who try to keep us from much assumed-bribery-associated-with-wealthy-white-visitors and impoverished civil servants -

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 –

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 our health to stay ahead of whatever is before us, for us to let our health fail so others can shine –

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, skipping stone and even groaning prayers make all the difference..

If we should ever cross your mind, even if we are strange and confusing, just grunt, crumple us up and throw us at God.  That is where we need to be.. 

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