Dear Cherished Interested’s,                                                                                         July 10th, 2023

Soup soup was what Hilda and the ladies had.  Soup was the ram sacrifice for a first born child that I bought three or so Sundays ago.  We gentlemen had goat soup.  Elders all gathered and got meat and soup.  Hilda and I count as elders here so we did too. 

Yesterday, we were back in the back of Mulala church with little ones who walked there from the Children’s Village.  It was nearly a three hour service.  That is fine.  People gather as they can.  The church bell starts ringing at 5 AM and rings for quite a while to let a mountain of people who do not have and likely cannot afford a watch know to prepare and come to church.

We then walked on up to The Children’s Village with those bright little ladies who sit with Hilda when we are here. 

There is an older pastor of some local denomination [likely Pentecostal] who is there at The Children’s Village every Sunday before us to pray, teach, and love on the children too.  He walks from much further up the mountain.  He walks from nearly the end of the road up where forest ends human occupation. 

A tremendous blessing has been his acceptance of me, indeed us.  A particularly beautiful part of each Sunday is a greeting of limited verbal communication beyond identifying each other as brother and pastor in Swahili and or English, a little Meru, and long handshake becoming trusted embrace with his head laying first against one shoulder of mine then the other. 

I am so thankful that these little ones see Christian brothers accepting each other no matter any dogmatic or polity differences. 

Given that this Meru Pastor’s wife is one of the indomitable Mamas of The Children’s Village who is not happy without my written message on her lap as my helper reads the Swahili out for all, I am not surprised. 

The reading glasses she got from us so she could read again on her cute little nose, sticker labelling strength and tag hanging from string telling brand still in place.  Many of the Mama’s wear their reading glasses with strings and tags still in place.  Meru Minnie Pearls, for those so aged reading this.   

I preach or present, thinking, that each time is going to be my last.  My life of rejections, big and small, woven into my expectations.  My desire to be ready for the next change God requires woven likewise like two differently colored strands, rejection darkness and service brightness more valuable when together. 

Again surprisingly yesterday, after literally calling blessing of God on me, the Mama’s said that they need my prayers supporting their work.  Their precious hard work.  They are prayed for.  We sing, we go through the message written for them.  They get the priestly blessing two different ways.  We almost always laugh. 

Then after I go collect Hilda and come back by where they are preparing food while we were worshipping, they drink in, shine on, and love Hilda so deeply. 

Children happily wave good bye without fear now. 

We have not disappeared but kept coming back for over a year.  Your prayers have kept us consistent for these children who have lost more than many can even imagine let alone live through.  Can’t thank you enough for that..  There are no words.  

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Had a young man come with us into town on a medical transport for another much younger child.  He did awesome with someone who is his littlest brother.  These young people who have lost everything, in time learn to share huge empathy for each other.  It was fun.  That littlest one goes back to the doctor on 8/7.  Doing well.  Really well.

Yes both of these young people are rare in that they actually have been all the way to our house.  More than once.  Caregiver’s trust is amazing. 

Having a teen fluent in both English and Swahili makes town trips so much more productive.  As a reward, after feeding them well, I took them to a special place.

There is a locally owned and operated business by a pair of young men that I have been made welcome at.  They recycle plastics.  They make plastic lumber.  They make items out of plastic lumber.  The head young man is from here but been blessed to go to college in the Pacific Northwest. 

I took the teen to visit these young entrepreneurs and walked in to find the white board in their office still with the pictures I drew there for them over a month ago.  It is so easy to erase a white board.  They kept them. 

This is one of those places where inventive people invent.  It is so very much fun to swing by and just talk with them about what they are working on and what they might want to work on and how and why. 

This is another place where I have received unexpected acceptance.  My hands understand what they are doing and they know this.  My pockets, as a missionary, are far too empty to help that way.  They do not care.  They like that I understand enough to participate with my experience and crazy creativity of my own. 

Yes, it turns out that they are Christian having gone to St. Judes School for gifted impoverished children.     

Your prayers have made this connection happen too.  Keep praying!!  Thank You!!!

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Just translated, by computer, the last possible message for the 2023 local church calendar.  New Years message for the first of January 2024 has been completed.  Every Sunday for the year now has at least one message prepared.

Your Prayers keep my feet to the fire and my heart longing for study of The Word. 

You save my life..  You do that.. 

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From last time…

I cannot describe the spiritual attacks we have been facing as the time hopefully approaches (coming soon we hope.. a loving representative of ours is engaged with University staff working our process for us so cultural and linguistic issues are sidestepped without more financial outlay on our part ) when we, ourselves, will engage with the University again. 

We now have a calendar of University Enrollment process days and verbal assurance that I will be attending theological studies in September.  I continue to breathe.  I’m not holding it.

Relationships here on the ground in addition to my imperfections and mistakes are being used to try to drive us away from our striving.  Each day is a sincere struggle.  Hopefully that means we’re on the right track.  Please pray for those around us.  Please pray for the local faces which fearlessly now smile and greet us as we walk.  

Please keep crumpling us up and throwing us at God.  That is where we need to be.  God will sort us out.

One day at a time.  Just like how you each live.  Just one day at a time. 

Thank you, each of you.

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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.. 

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 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 each and every one of you –

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

Prayers, Your Prayer, Even your groaning prayers makes 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