Dear Cherished Interested’s,                                                                                         September 12th, 2023

Noon again on Tuesday. 

The staircase for access to the much smaller upper floor is assembled and just this morning sanded.  Land lady, precious Aunt to that precious mother and grandmother to the offspring of her sister just arrived and took the stair up and back down. 

She arrived this early afternoon with her hair free and loose, like Hilda’s hair.  She wanted to show Hilda.  The stairs?  Approved.  This is part of how we pay rent.  Things like a stair, not hair.    

The stair goes in a space that demands a very large rise is overcome within very little run.  So, I built a very simple yacht stair.  Three stingers/risers with split staggered treads/steps.  The steps let into, dado’s cut into, the risers enabling the number of treads/steps to be doubled in the same rise. 

The rickety eight rung rough ladder that left to never return a couple months or more ago has now been replaced by a sixteen step stair that rises steeply but surely and comfortably.  The left foot has eight steps.  The right foot has eight different steps.  They are offset from each other but sharing the center riser which has offset dado’s cut on both sides.    

Quick moment about availability of tools.  My circular saw is really decent.  Chinese but built well, solid, and 220v verses 110v means power is really decent. 

The sander, same manufacturer, is a different story.  I bought what I wanted, a larger random orbit sander, but had to return it for a refund.  The sander is available.  Nowhere, locally or Arusha, were the right size abrasives available.   Ended up with a small square one with abrasives labelled 150 but are more like about 60 grit.  Durable abrasives, inexpensive abrasives but no super fine work possible with them.  The stairs, though beautiful local hardwood, will be painted.  Sometime..

I groused a little while Hilda was brushing the dust off the steps and she said she was sorry.  Well, not her doing.  It is the way it is and if we really want to be identifiable in any way for the local folks we need to live with the same stuff, same problems, same tools or lack of as they do. 

Thank you for praying my head on straight. 

Having built tools for a cabinet maker whose cabinets were not only supreme but art pieces, I can be really anal for details.  But I am not here for that. 

I am that sander that does not work well.  I am that mislabeled abrasive that can’t do fine work.  Sometimes maybe I’m the saw.  Sometimes I’m the writer.  Sunday’s this logger preaches.  Whatever it is I am.  Keep praying my will to the back. 

Keep praying me into the hands of Jesus.  The king of all master craftsmen who seems to love a challenge.  The challenge of using even broken, mismatched, and ill-defined tools like me.  Thank You!!

Whenever I do something with my hands or teach something like driving or stop in the road to help a motorcycle courier right and re-load his over-loaded bike, it attracts attention.

Locals here find it very hard to believe that first world folks know how to do anything with their hands and bodies.  Given what I have met here for European and North American representation, that is sadly the evidence locals have been given.  Mouths that work and lecture and demand.  Not much else.

Our shoes are each being washed by hand by that mother of three who comes here to help.  The shelf they go on by the side door has been washed too.  This is how she takes care of her own family.  That is how she takes care of us. 

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Sunday was Cathedral, then last minute celebration cake for the Sunday school and confirmands delivered to Mulala church by us on the way to the Children’s Village and Sunday school and Mama Worship service there.  Then we chilled a while and ate before going down to Makumira Secondary School to deliver Sunday message there as well.

That last minute celebration cake got thrown into my Saturday around teaching English and taking a truck load of ladies to the wedding of a cousin of that precious one mothering her sister’s offspring. 

The cake ended up being delivered to Hilda at home by motorcycle courier while I was taking that truckload of angels to the wedding.  No, I do not know all of them, but that is normal.  You just do what you are told and laugh at any linguistic or cultural consternation trusting that forgiveness will be given. 

It does get given here.  I know that about Tanzania.  That is why Hilda is here.  The people of Tanzania are kind.  At least the ones we have been sent to or, have been sent to us.  Thank you for that prayer.

At the wedding, their driver, me, sat at one of about a hundred round tables with eight angels.  I sat between two women with the same name.  One, our land-lady, the other her precious brilliant niece who is raising her sisters legacy, working a full time job, running her employers household, and helping another family with a one van mountain taxi service, and several other women with a small storefront, and a small micro-farm, and a couple cows, and still loves and takes care of Hilda and I. 

These are people to work with.  Luke 10 verse 7, stick it out, don’t get chased away, don’t get enticed away, stick it out and thank God for it because.  Because working together is rare blessing. 

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Sunday before last was a fund raising Sunday at Mulala church for the elders.  Older than Hilda and I. 

They came with what they could bring.  It was our day to be there for early worship and I preached, Mchungaji Ombeni translating.  After, outside, before the close of worship, two cows were auctioned off as offering along with much produce. 

Yes, you can laugh at me.  I bought a smart looking straight backed red and white bull calf with good legs and feet.  That in support of the elders and in memory of my mother and father, aunt and uncle.  Loaded it into the stupid little truck.  Hobbled it until it laid down.  Took it to that precious one on our way down to Makumira Secondary and worship there.  She was overjoyed.  She and Hilda have named it “Kimo.”  

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I am pleased to report that Hilda continues to be significantly better.  She is walking up the hill without significant discomfort. 

As I write this she is working with Mchungaji Ombeni on the other couch to write a proposal for the purchase of tents, chairs, and trike bike truck for event rentals.  Serving people with nearly nothing requires something.  We are sought to help figure that out because we have technology and ability. 

I’m trying to write to you.  Hilda keeps asking me questions.  Mchungaji is laughing as I continue to direct Hilda to let me work.     

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Nothing yet about the latest government kufuffle vis-à-vis Tumaini University Makumira.  I have had verbal reports that the university indeed wants me..  No idea about how they want me or how much it will cost. 

Government and big elite education..  Luke 10 verse 3 it is, lambs among wolves.  They plan, I know nothing, those who have gathered to help us, shepherd us by engaging the wolves and keeping us out of it.  Wild..  Your praying does amazing things.

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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