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 1st
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.
-----------------------------
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?
-----------------------------
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
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