Dear Cherished Interested’s,                                                                                           January 16, 2023

Given the limited reach of this blog, I can trust to share somewhat specifically about what and where here.  Kilala, a big church down low and very nearly on the big road has been assigned to other Mchungaji. 

Kilinga,  Moolala, and one other Parish are now under the shepherding of Mchungaji Ombeni.  These are more remote and rural parishes, closer to Ombeni’s home and I think even his huge heart.  The sun was coming up while waiting for him at the end of the road down the hill to his home.  This is a road I will try to avoid until I get the 4 wheel drive working.  He drove up and out with his sick but working 4 wheel drive then jumped in with us. 

I preached for him at Kilinga for the 7:30 Sawhili service and then we preached again at the Meru service following soon after which ran until about 12:30.  Mchungaji Ombeni translating my English, and then at the Meru service, Hilda’s English too into the language necessary for each service.  In between we had time with the Sunday School and were fed. 

Swahili service was full to about two thirds the church and went well.  Meru service was full.  Meru service Ombeni was hearing and translating the message for the second time inserting moments of direction and inquiry for the congregation to verify that they were following the message that together we were sharing with them from the mornings scheduled scriptures. 

I finished my part.  Ombeni called Hilda forward, walking down and back to meet her and then translated for Hilda as she turned the message already shared twice to adults and once to the Sunday School, by her, into a Sunday School lesson for the whole Meru service. 

I had their earnest attention.  Hilda had their love.  As Hilda moved and comfortably expounded through Ombeni I got to watch the women light up and bob and swing and beam and laugh in reflection to Hilda.  The men did too.  I can be overwhelming.  Hilda compelling. 

Ombeni said later that I built a foundation that Hilda nailed the message to by focusing on application of the message by everyone there.  It was a message of empowerment.  When Hilda was done, they wanted to believe it.

Near the end of service Ombeni called anyone wanting prayer to come forward, anyone for anything.  Of about 120 nearly 100 came forward.  I was directed to speak and pray for them.  My way is slow, demanding eye contact and where heartlessness, shame, fear, or disbelief that they could even be seen by an old white guy, an instant of prayer for each downturned face or side-shifted eye in the moments of quiet between spoken phrases.  The phrases were answering the spontaneous question posed first to these precious people of how can we know that the child of Bethlehem was given to them. 

The phrases given for up-river mountain-people who care for living things in order to live themselves, rang true tying them into the hilltop shepherds hearing Jesus’s birth announcement from Angels.  Not the wealthy, nor the powerful, nor the religiously approved.  Just people made by God.  God, who makes no mistakes, and still makes people to this very moment. 

Then Ombeni went full Swahili preacher for them.  He was Joyfully and intensely on fire.  This is someone they have known, many for their entire lives.  That rapid fire, almost auctioneer style of prayer for his people had nearly all eyes closed, many faces up-turned with loosening lines of stress as they rocked with each phrase he gave repeating it inside themselves.  There was hope, where it was worn thin.  There was Joy where pain and duty only had brought feet the long walk to worship.

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Me, and college stuff.  Each time another document is demanded by the local national governmental process, one my ignorance has not prepared me to expect, it costs time and over $200.00 to get it here by DHL.  DHL has been able to get documents here and in such a way as to provide a chain of custody of sorts that so far has been acceptable to those in government here evaluating my ancient background for acceptance for matriculation into a University program here.  My fixer, who knows those serving in the national government, needs resources to travel and work the process too.  Time will tell.  

As I seem to be the first to even try, those in the know of this discovery of process are few but dogged and definite in their assurance that we will win through.  I am ever deeply saddened for our shrinking North American church, so affirmational of my call yet, did not want to share in hearing a voice from where The Church, however imperfect, is still living and growing. 

Renewal, revival, reformation are required of living things when interacting with each new day, informed by yet irrespective of the days past.  Lives here can see benefit through healthy relationship with North America.  Eternal lives on the continent of my ancestors and children can see benefit through healthy relationship with where we are now as well.  Why is it difficult to walk with those who try? 

You are walking with us.  You are praying our steps before us.  Steps we still do not see even as some around us seem to. 

We’ve been requested to be with the Silverleaf children for Sunday morning worship time again.  This request by Tanzanians and not wealthier predominantly foreign nationals orchestrating the best they can, as best they can see, through NGO structures.  We will see.  We do currently plan to be with them next Sunday at 10:am.  Just as we plan to be with the littles and Mama’s at The Children’s Village each Sunday too.  Our feet are outstretched and coming down.  We’ll see what they find firm on.

 

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WE don’t fit the expected boxes..  The local folks have decided to either love us or hate us for that.  The ones who love us seem to be winning..  I think your praying has been a huge part in that.  God is listening, watching..  laughing some too?? 

Thank You for that.

Also please Pray for:

Visa situation..  Due soon..  two weeks until we are illegal..  May we be able to learn and be lead into what is best for the benefit of what God would have us do, how God would have us do those things and stewardship of the resources God has put into us for God’s purposes -

Gratitude..

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 our precious 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 –

Imbasenny school is one of two schools run by a Mchungaji here.  He requests prayer for Imbasenny school as that school has no external support and parents school fees fall short of what the job takes.

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

Our armed forces families, our leadership, our people, whole world round, all of God’s 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

 Dear Cherished Interested’s,                                                                                           January 10, 2023

Apologies for the over-long time between this post and the last. 

I had a wonderful moment of Joy this morning.  And this with Hilda right there to witness it.  We were together with two Meru sisters.  One I have been tutoring in English for a while.  The other has ardently refused to use English around me.  She will speak to Hilda in English, but not Babu(grandfather).

Today both sisters brought the local NIV Bibles in English we gave them and we had a tutorial.  This consists of reading scripture aloud to the small group trusting Babu to help with pronunciation.  Then Babu pauses the reading to question them about specific words.  We then define the specific words and discuss their usage in the text.  This is a new pairing as students and sisters can be competitive.  I still think they will work out well. 

On good days the elder sister will trust me enough to ask about anything.  Yes, anything..  It took time to come to that point.  The younger sister did extremely well this morning reciting scripture in English in front of Babu and Bibi(grandmother).

They are both products of corporal punishment in the school environment.  Consistent positive affirmation of each good portion of recitation combined, not with the stick, but calmly spoken pronunciation by me given and then repeated by me with a smile, broken into pieces even, so they can practice has been productive.  It has also created the safe place for questions, any questions.

Both of these young women have beaten the median age of 17.  They are both 20 something and neither has a child yet.  Yes, they are extremely intelligent polyglot people who seem to learn well in an environment of humor first.  Seriousness is present when necessary too but not first.  Safe place first. 

My quiet moment of Joy with them came when in 1^st Peter we came to where Peter says we are slaves to Christ.  These two beautifully dark Meru women were completely unfamiliar with the English word .. slave.  I pointed it out to Hilda while the two sisters were communicating in brief and Hilda’s head shook in disbelief as she affirmed that she had heard it too.

Where survival is paramount looking to the past for reasons to hate your neighbor makes no sense whatsoever.  There is most often no time for it.  Besides, local history here started getting written down only when the first German Lutheran Missionaries arrived on Meru from Kilimanjaro.  This around the latest 1890’s and early 1900’s or the time my grandparents were born.  Not all that long ago.   

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My Sunday Helper Elisha left yesterday to become a boarding student at his school, Makumira Secondary.  He is now of an age and disposition that it is deemed by his loving Aunt/Mama to be of benefit for his appreciation of structure and consequence.  Makumira Secondary is a church school owned and operated by the community through the local Tanzanian Lutheran Church.  Hilda and I have met the headmaster who is pint-sized amazing. 

No child on campus there flinches away from any member of staff.  Corporal punishment is banned in the Lutheran church schools.  The headmaster himself waters the vast garden maintained to feed the school, he has had the children dig tilapia ponds for protein to add to their diets.  They have cows giving milk and last year when we walked the campus with him he was bubbling about cow manure digesters soon.  Bio-gas from cow manure so the cooks don’t have to use wood or dry dung to cook with all the time.  An older man with white coming into his hair but total human dynamo.  They have two sources of water so nothing important dries up.  The sources are springs with ram pumps moving it to where it needs to go.  The last place on campus to get water and the first to dry up is the boys dormitory.  The girls get water first. 

With the departure of Elisha my last Sunday helper has moved along.  I am hopeful to find new ones.  God willing. 

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With the close of Hilda’s work with the three NGO’s as a contracted member of staff, we are feeling our way ahead in faith again.  This time though we have been given some amazingly precious people right here who have chosen to know and want us in their work and their lives.  We are praying that within the next 2 to 3 weeks we will be residing further up Meru and significantly closer to The Children’s Village. 

Local ones are making that happen.  Women have been talking quietly with other women and finding opportunities for us.  Miracles from impoverished busy ones seeking the slightly better off ones, they know and trust and might have an empty house.  We think one has been found.  The owners let us look and wanted a list of improvements they insist upon completing in the next 2 weeks before we move there..  God knows..  We sent a list..  All we heard back was that the list was fine.. 

The very same trust that sold the house, drove to Georgia and sold the truck is demanded of us again.  Only our crazy has attracted some unbelievably precious souls who feel we are theirs now too, Mama Mchungaji Ngakisali and Mchungaji Kisali..  Ki-Meru for big brother pastors wife and Big brother pastor.

Often these dear ones do not want our white faces to be seen until negotiations are complete.  They do not want us to be taken unfair advantage of financially or emotionally.  My first brother Pastor here reminded me this very week of our story insisting that to do what we have done to be here is meaningful somehow in and of itself.  It’s only meaningful if God’s love is the compelling impetus. 

That brother is Mchungaji Ombeni.  He put us to work doing pre-marital counselling of his own parishioners within three hours of meeting us.  He has been trusted with three new preaching points.  He saw the truck at work with me in it, stopped and insisted I preach for him again this coming Sunday several kilometers up the mountain at his most distant parish. 

That should keep me out of sight of those seeking to harass, yet, still at work for the Lutheran Church here.  Brave.  They are so very brave.

Did I mention that my almost Catholic-Priest-fixer who knows everyone in the national government and introduces me as “father” to folks he trusts signed paperwork for the national authorities that they could hold him responsible for any of my actions, good or bad?

I should be blown away, shouldn’t I?  

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Christmas Day we worshiped with the littles at the Children’s Village and then the Mama’s as normal.  Then, with others helping, we took all of them to where we stayed our first two months here, Two Mountain Lodge.  The Mama’s did not have to cook.  The children did not have to clean up.  We served them a good lunch.  Then the children got a big celebration cake.  Then the Mama’s each got their own celebration cake.  Our friends at the lodge had fun making it all happen too.

There goes the budget..  WORTH  IT!   Then one week later..

Dear close ones were going to an evening New Year’s Eve service in town, Arusha.  We asked if they wanted some quiet company as this whole year our church duties had prevented us from worshipping with them.  WE aren’t dead you know..  we can do a midnight service Saturday and still do church stuff Sunday morning, we’ll have the afternoon to catch up..  right?

The truck had four angels and one fine young man in the back seat on the way.  We collected another young man, husband to one of the angels, there.  The two young men rode in the bed of the truck on the way back to Nkoaranga though when that time eventually came.

The service was peopled by something between 500, we were among and could see, but simulcast to other nearby tents at just under a thousand.  It was this median age of 17 spending 9 hours of praising in a predominantly modern Tanzanian Joyful Pentecostal way. 

I counted four white heads beyond our own.  There had to be nearly a whole hour of singing and jumping to “Jesus Hop” among other praise song and dance performed live by the same musicians, singers and dancers for nearly Seven of the Nine hours.  Rapid-fire Swahili preaching and surprisingly slow moments of teaching through scripture took the rest.

We drove home with the rising sun. 

I got to 7:am English service New Year’s Day at the Cathedral before it started after changing my shirt.  Then went home after to collect Hilda and eat some.  We did our normal with the littles and Mama’s ..  Then..

Collected up nearly an identical truckload of angels and took them back into town for another praise time with the same praise team.  They had slept for a little bit.  It was blissfully brief anyway, only 90 minutes with communion. 

---------------------------------

WE don’t fit the expected boxes..  The local folks have decided to either love us or hate us for that.  The ones who love us seem to be winning..  I think your praying has been a huge part in that.  God is listening, watching..  laughing some too?? 

Thank You for that.

Also please Pray for:

Visa situation..  Due soon..  two weeks until we are illegal..  May we be able to learn and be lead into what is best for the benefit of what God would have us do, how God would have us do those things and stewardship of the resources God has put into us for God’s purposes -

Gratitude..

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 our precious 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 –

Imbasenny school is one of two schools run by a Mchungaji here.  He requests prayer for Imbasenny school as that school has no external support and parents school fees fall short of what the job takes.

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

Our armed forces families, our leadership, our people, whole world round, all of God’s 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