Dear Cherished Interested’s,                                                                                         October 23rd, 2023

We drove to the border and then on into Kenya, Maili Tisa{nine mile}.  This for Visa compliance once again.  There we turned north into the bush and overnighted at a facility before returning to brave the border and come back south.

This brief overnight was unwanted expense yet, awesome.  This one night was a return.  Last time, at this facility, I stayed up late as Hilda rested helping the staff find and repair water and power issues. 

They were sincerely glad to see us again.  We hadn’t given up on them and came back in spite of the problems on our first visit.  Perhaps that is part of why we were approached late in the afternoon on the balcony by someone who was not in our plans.

The owner of the facility is now another of that growing body of people whom we are protective of.

Protective of even as that protection is not needed.  The owner is beyond mandatory retirement age for Kenya yet is kept continuously contract bound to serve his nation.  As he is not black, but a very light brown Muslim, he will never ascend to the highest positions he is responsible to.  For this he is openly thankful, fearing for his soul should he ascend to the top.  Wise man. 

His facility for visitors is kept behind a fence so other government officials cannot simply enter and help themselves to its contents and services.  We get to enter. 

We spent the late afternoon, supper, and into the late evening with a soon to be grandfather who still calls his mother three times a week.  This done by this military man responsible for many things.  One of his joyful responsibilities is directing and participating in Game Warden duties.  Two days after we left, I got a video and pictures of successful giraffe tagging operations as part of confronting cross border poaching.  Cool..

This Game warden who does many other things built this facility with recovered and up-cycled discards, cast-offs, and it is beautiful.  It will fool you at first look into believing it is a much older facility that is in a process of slow renewal, but that is a consequence of the materials found and used in its construction.

The region is in the twelfth year of a drought and so this game warden finds ways of feeding the local wildlife.  Hilda fed, out of her hand, a young male giraffe.  There are Eland, Ostrich, and many other animals and birds.  Without internet except for near the pool and common house, the sounds of nature throughout the day are healing to this old farmer and logger. 

This Islamic game warden has been married for 35 years.  He is married to a Catholic Maasai woman who sounds like a dynamo equal to her spouse.  Because of this union, this Islamic game warden is an elder of the Maasai in that region and includes in his long list of duties conflict resolution for the tribe.

I do not know why God takes moments, I do not seek, and makes them immeasurably valuable.  Again it is people.  God makes moments but not for moments sake.  God makes moments for life and people.  I did not expect a five hour conversation with anyone, we went to satisfy Visa compliance by having our passports stamped out of country then back in, my fingerprints taken at the border each way and each time.

We were able to listen to an exceptional insider, who is also an outsider to the various cultures, he lives within the tension of, in the in-between.  He is the last of his generation still in Africa, so likely could legally afford to follow his parents and siblings elsewhere, but chooses to stay where he can make a difference in the wild places and supporting the service among the people of those places he loves.  I understand that.  A secular Muslim and a Maasai Catholic doing much of the work of missionaries to support and improve human lives without knowing all the scriptural basis.  Cool..

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

The Sunday after the trip north I preached in Kilinga again, a little further up the mountain, at 7:AM.  We waved at the Pentecostal Church on the way by as our Swahili teacher worships there.  She thinks it is cool that we preach among her people at the Lutheran church.  She has been studying my messages as part of our education and has never found fault with the challenges offered therein.   

Yes, Hilda preached too.  I leave them quiet and pondering.  Hilda they just adore, she can’t stand still and doesn’t.  She makes Mchungaji chase her around, so he can hear to translate, as she gets all her ‘students’ engaged by beaming love over everyone.

Yesterday was attending English service at 7:am, preaching only with the TST Mama’s, messages delivered to the children at Makumira Secondary, then we took a teen to boarding school way over on the west side of Arusha. 

On that trip we also took a young Italian woman, fluent in Swahili from studies at University in Naples.  And we took that precious mother to her sister’s children and grandchildren.  We then attended a Catholic Confirmation for a bitty little princess and her friend.  Huge deal here.  I was asked to use the truck to transport both children, inside the cab, and videographers filming from outside in the bed.

I was told I was to follow someone.  Then the tired mother of a confirmand got in the passenger seat and directed me to lead.  She directing to where she did not know and me taking direction in tired Swahili being spoken through her nose that I still don’t really know. 

How tired was she?  She was so tired that someone had to close the passenger door for her after she sat down in the truck each time.  That event lasted hours into the night. 

As the event was drawing to a close that tired Mama was energized by the music, dancing and celebration to the point of her and her husband coming to beam on Hilda and I with sincere gratitude.  

Gratitude for hauling 15 children, little princesses, in the back seat of the stupid little truck and letting videographers document from the bed while wandering dusty streets aimlessly going in circles looking for places we did eventually find.  Hilda and the ladies waited at the celebration venue while I wandered with children and videographers driving to directions mostly non-verbal and completely comical.  

I never seem to get video evidence but Hilda danced with all the African ladies like the world was on fire.  One Bibi coming to the table and making Simba dance with her too between joyful bouts with Mama Simba, Hilda. 

We got the two ladies we traveled with home, parked the truck at the church, and then walked home from there ourselves.  We did not get stopped until after midnight.

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

Hilda is planning to take on two swimming students.  One of those students is looking for places to affordably have pool access.  These are adult students.  One is our Swahili teacher.

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

Huge expenses again surrounding the school for Vern thing with last minute hurdles out of nowhere.  Thanks to Pastors here who really believe in who we are and Pastor Erik in Washington State who is also likewise supportive, hopes of clearing those hurdles have appeared.  We’ll see.  We are at work without the training.    

Hilda and I spent a few hours today around working those school for Vern issues with a German Pastor wanting to attend the same University also.  She was heartbroken at how she has been treated. 

Some of this is due to our developed world presumption that every type of communication is valued and equal.  That is not the case here where access to internet, phone service, e-mail, etc, is not common. 

Often only face to face communication works.  Now, good luck finding the faces.. 

I think of the Temple authorities as recorded in scripture.  I really do.   I’m sure that does not win any friends.  I hope it challenges a spiritual sibling or two. 

Two years after being told, while going through candidacy during COVID, that I was too stubborn to be accompanied in candidacy for listening to the call to come here, I learned that the candidacy committee did not think I would ever serve in a North American Congregation.  Because of that narrowness, their way or the highway, it may have become a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

Hilda and I still hope there is a small church somewhere in America desperate enough to let us live near the front door.  I hope it is in a blessed community with businesses running shifts.  We hope to have services either before or after shift changes, perhaps both, so we can be used to make some students among folks running as hard as they can. 

We hope there may be a church in farm country or along a trucking route so I can have coffee with folks sick of being lectured to by meta-thinkers with manicured hands that have never been broken by anything.  Not fair, I know, but needs are real as people.  Those needs are opportunities.  Like funerals are.  Like weddings are.  Like hunger is. 

Not all people who need God’s constant love can afford men’s and women’s retreats and special training programs or seeming adult play dates, entertainment as faith community.  They can’t afford my training.

Perhaps I shouldn’t buy that expensive and expected training that excludes the willing but come to trust my lifetime of suffering and miracles.  Both proof of God being with us and wanting us, forever.

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

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.

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

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