Dear Cherished Interested’s,                                                                                         August 22-24th, 2023

We lost power early this morning.  Because of that and the weather being warm and sunny, we pulled out the sewing kit. 

Hilda has spent the whole day repairing the hat my Dad gave me when we moved the folks off the farm in 2005.  It is a wonderful hat that is nearly completely perforated to let the breeze whirl around the top of your head.  The brim and the top patch are solid to provide shade.  The rim of the brim has had the worn open areas reclosed to contain the strands that hold the brim out and up.  She is now going completely around the rim of the brim for the second time with bright green thread to give the tan hat a green character.  Somebody loves me.

I’ve been working on the holey back-pack after re-securing the burst from the binding zipper of my Bible cover. 

Why would you care about two hands-on older folks taking advantage of beautiful weather to sit outside undercover on the porch where they can see to stitch stitches?  Well, with the gate open for the whole local throng of ambulatory to walk by and see their wealthy white neighbor’s managing needles and thread to fix rather than just pitch and buy new, we were once again visible doing exceedingly normal things for just folks to do.

I forgot it is Tuesday.  Mchungaji Ombeni and the visitation/prayer team were walking by too.  They saw Mchungaji Kisali and Mama Mchungaji Kisali both heads down over diligent stitching.  Without even a moment’s thought the visitation/prayer team came right on in to watch and use Mchungaji Ombeni’s phone to take pictures of their missionaries from America working together outside in the light. 

Their missionaries were somehow again doing the familiar yet completely unexpectedly normal person thing.  We stitched and read the Bible and prayed and shared insights of the moment and, after being prayed over with laughter, joyfully sent the team along with a sleeve of cookies and a couple bananas for Mchungaji.

Thank God the power failed this morning again.

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The permission came quickly for us to attend the children down at Makumira Secondary School [Mak 2] on Sundays at 4:30.  Requirements from Headmaster include that the message be given in English and that at least three songs be sung in English.

Two Sundays ago was our first time at 4:30 with the children at Mak 2, around two hundred of them.  The message was the same one prepared for the Mama’s at The Children’s Village so..  It was a grown up message.  A grown up message for Mama’s of littles who need them and teenagers at Mak2 [English medium Lutheran boarding school]. 

Two days ago the second time was a jumble of other things occurring at the same time so..  Let go and wait..  4:30 is not firm.. 

We got going about 5:30 and had only about 120 children.  I introduced the Kyrie, which they had never heard of and we sang:  The Kyrie as given in music from Ghana in the blue with-one-voice we brought along.  We also sang ’Gracious Spirit, heed our pleading’ as arranged by the Lutheran Theological College, Makumira, Tanzania [the university I am seeking acceptance into] also from with-one-voice and we sang ‘We are marching in the light [Siyahamba]’ as in with-one-voice and also the red worship book.     

That hour between plan and actual service time had about eight of the girls practicing the three planned English songs.  They then sat around Hilda and I and chatted in multi-lingual joviality about all sorts of things.  Somewhere, perhaps my whiskers, a lions roar entered the discussion so..  

I roared like a lion.  This I do nearly every Sunday for the littles up at The Children’s Village as part of the songs they have.  

That roar was a surprise to these teenagers.  After that roar, the teenage girls around us re-gathered themselves in laughter.  One literally up from the floor where she fell in shock, but arising laughing too.

Extra copies of the message have been left each time in both languages.  This thanks to the computer and internet allowing me to translate English into Swahili. 

Two nights ago, one of the teenage girls, who know us from The Children’s Village and are students at Mak 2, came to the truck before we left to say that all the attending teens in service wanted a copy of the message.  The Girls plan to see to that when the school office opens.   We can’t afford copies like that, thankfully they have a plan.    

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Stupid little truck had Monday to Thursday in town being worked on last week.  Brand new turbo [guts] same housings.  Bushings, ball joints, axle seals, alignment re-strung old-school.  Result is a truck that no longer smokes and climbs the mountain one or two gears higher than before. 

Took the stupid little truck back into town yesterday and will collect it again Thursday.  Praying that four wheel drive and diff-lock can take similar strides for the better.   

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So children of all ages have taken us into their circle of possession.  Many of those children are old enough to have children and, a few, grand-children of either their own, or of deceased siblings, now in their care.  How do I face this responsibility?  How do I face the millstone around my neck?

Every time I give a message, either myself or through a local indigenous voice, I remind myself that this may be the last message I ever give.  Let it be as truthful as God can help me make it.  

Your prayers are beautiful in their results.. Thank You..

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The Jewish, former Islamic, father of my Confirmation student has been back in Africa for 3 or so weeks.  He left this morning with his Tanzanian daughter to return to the U.S. and her school.  That father wanted me to know that he will be back in time to attend his son’s Lutheran Confirmation now scheduled for December.   

Pray, pray, pray..  Time for confirmation preparation is so often less than important here too.  Imagine how difficult for this young man whose faith is different from his parents.  Pray, pray, pray..

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August 25^th is another step towards Theological training here.  I can be rejected or accepted at this next step like all the others over the year and a half.  If I get through, if my name is still on the list, there is at least another step.  No further conversations yet with the university as I am not yet accepted.  Pray please.. 

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We have a white board and dry erase markers in the house.  It has rough plans for stairs I need to build if nothing more important appears to take the few resources first. 

That white board has residuals from lessons in Swahili we are taking from a local teacher who comes to the house twice a week.  Glory is competent.  Glory is intelligent.  Glory is curious.  Glory is kind.  Glory is consistent.  We love and are so very thankful for Glory.  

That whiteboard also has a space for names.  Names of books, and names of little ones from the neighborhood.  One shelf below the whiteboard is piled with books, many donated by our daughter Margretta and her two young sons.  Those books are still very valued here where devices and connectivity are extremely rare. 

Little girls appear at the door to see Bibi.  Some are very familiar now.  They come in, pick a book and sit to read.  Now, sometimes, they come to pick a book and watch their name go on the whiteboard along with the name of the book.  Then they go home with the book. 

So far, the books have all come back.  Older girls occasionally take out a book that is much below their own reading level to take home.  That is when I believe they are sharing this opportunity with a younger sibling, cousin, or neighbor.  Being a teacher starts early for some. 

Gratitude is beautiful among these little girls.  They will come and read then go be with Hilda in the kitchen.  They will grab all Hilda’s dirty dishes and clean them.  This all the while laughing and smiling and practicing English through questions and answers.  Their questions, Hilda’s answers.  Hilda’s questions, their answers. 

Your prayers are beautiful..

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Yes please …

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