Dear Cherished Interested’s,                                                                                         April 2^nd 2024

May we start off with a Miracle?  Just a little one?  A very important one, yes; but like most miracles that happen every day, could be easily not seen nor acknowledged.

Today was second treatment day for a beautiful young lady pastor from campus.   

Last week I took her up the mountain to Nkoaranga Hospital, the Lutheran hospital founded by German Lutheran missionaries over 100 years ago.  X-rays were taken, no surgery was required.  Treatment was to last, at least, three weeks. 

This morning, cortisone shots scheduled to accompany treatment, were dropped, un-administered, and treatment, with shots, scheduled for next week were also cancelled.

Nope..  real miracle.  X-rays were taken, viewed by at least two local doctors last week.  X-rays still available today with visiting medical student from North Carolina, fresh from America today, to see the miracle for herself through hands-on examination of most affected foot.

Young Lady Pastor’s ambulatory has been rectified with unbelievable healing in just one week.               

One Holy week.  I love God’s humor.  Young Lady Pastor had traveled the length and width of Tanzania during Holy Week with her choir too.  All jammed up in bus seating.  Still wearing only the poor shoes she can find.  We did find a neoprene foot brace, we had brought with us, and made her wear that. 

We still need to find and acquire good, supportive, shoes for beautiful young Lady Pastor whose feet are nearly as out-sized as mine. 

We have tentatively scheduled a trip to town for two Saturdays from now. 

As moved, please pray for shoes: 

My feet are European size 48-49; beautiful young lady pastor’s feet are European size 42+.

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Our faith is no mistake.  Please, let’s use that faith here too.  Thank you! 

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A crowded open-air hospital on moist mountainside slopes, of deep green growing things, started over 100 years ago.  What does that look like? 

Busy..  very busy..

Aside from that medical student from Carolina and myself, there were two other European types on site this morning.  One must be a doctor I have seen there several times now.  Always on the run but happy to acknowledge my paleness, and perhaps Cross, with a simple low key nod without stopping between urgencies. 

The other was a tiny older woman in traditional Meru dress.  Her only yielding to vanity at all may be the coloring of her elderly, thinned, white hair.  Henna is local and inexpensive so her stern solid narrow glasses over unsmiling lean European features had a close cropped halo of red neatly combed over top.  This long-time white one was as brown, from exposure to equatorial sun, as some of the biological Meru present.  She stood strait, refusing to sit, waiting her turn patiently alongside others in wheel chairs or seated on benches or seats probably as old as she is, or I am.  I do not know her but to me that stoic refusal to be catered to but instead, quietly be with, makes her a hero.  She too simply nodded at me, or the cross hanging around my neck.

Other, Heroes, are little ones with malformed legs from malnutrition of one form or another.  Barely big enough to walk on their own, they hold mama’s hand and saunter painfully like miniature elderly people. 

One waiting little one was throwing up, feeling completely miserable.  He saw the other little ones moving around, like tiny well-worn rodeo champions, and jumped off mama’s lap to run around with his fellows.  All in pain.  All feeling bad.  All running in circles together playing, joyful in each-others company. 

Pain management is still nearly not a thing here.  Hence, beautiful young lady Pastor coming to us to express concern is something that indicates deep trust and should immediately be attended to.  She is not an alcoholic, like me she doesn’t drink.  She does not have money nor access to pain meds.  She doesn’t smoke pot. 

This is the same for most here.  Broken limbs endured without pain management.  Surgical recovery often the same.  Doctors may prescribe, but who has the money? 

Still, waiting covered atrium, is full of all ages suffering deeply but nearly none showing any of it.  Humor behind scarves, draped humbly to hide it, is far more common. 

Staring at the big white guy is far more common.  When a little one decides to get close and gets rewarded with a smile and, surprised, runs away laughing to run back and try again?  That is pain reduction for nearly all. 

This little one bravery doesn’t just happen.  Mama’s, and other care-givers, worn weary with patient care, don’t have much patience left and expect a white one to demand preference ahead of them and their loved ones.  None of those whites were present today. 

While we waited for over four hours, in one line after another, an Evangelist ran up to greet me in both Swahili and Meru, then Mchungaji Ombeni, in three languages, then a local elderly Meru man in western clothing, who knows me, joyfully greeted in impeccable English.

A young father came in smiling with his sick, first child, and came straight to me so I can meet the child, and the child can meet Babu, grandfather.  Then a couple nurses, who probably remember me from church somewhere, looking up to beam comfortably, and at least two other local Doctors on their way to serve needs smiling big and greeting with one or two words in passing too.

Little ones see these things.  Little ones are curious, even sick little ones.  Even sick little ones, with worn out care-givers, see these things.  Then, around struggling to move, or between vomiting, their curiosity overrides fear.  That is beautiful too.  That is good medicine too.      

So, overt, almost hyper-cleanliness, as expected elsewhere, does not get energy wasted on it here.  Paint is worn, faded, and chipping.  Tin roofs are rusting.  Medical equipment, I have seen, is mostly older than fifty years in style. 

However, as I had blessing to converse with local Doctor and Medical student from Des Moines Medical School in Iowa; local Doctors here have much indeed to teach as practical clinicians.  Local Tanzanian Doctors who have to use their eyes, ears, hands, intuition, deduction, experience and empathy to make up for, significantly fewer, tests and machine based evaluations and interventions. 

Both of those Doctors are women.  The American one is more used to being acknowledged.  The Tanzanian woman Doctor is not.  A Tanzanian woman Doctor is especially unfamiliar with being held up by anyone for a brilliant young American Doctor to watch, listen and learn from.

But if you give examples and reasons coming directly from the local physicians environment and associated work form.  Work form necessary to provide any care at all with tremendously limited resources, these local professionals working away from big centers in town, just glow.  Perhaps, that is part of why nurses, doctors, guards and janitorial staff smile at me.  Everyone likes to be seen for their effort and work.

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Yesterday, Easter Monday, we had three young men from where we served children and Mama’s, on-site with them, for over two years.  They had been attending church symposiums and training on a holiday from work in Ngyani, where I preached once, one of the three translating for me.  They came quite a way for food and we stuffed them good.  After eating very well, they headed back to church for more education, study and serving. 

We were happily informed that the Mama’s have wept that we are no longer allowed to be with them, heart-breaking.  We were happily informed that the children have wept too, heart-breaking.  We were also informed that the children continue to shout and cheer in prayers of gratitude like we gave them permission to learn and do while with them.  Humbling, infinitely hopeful and hugely wonderful..

Keep praying please: for those serving them who are most full of, only what they know to be best.  Our faith is on purpose.  All need eternal hope, especially when financial resources and programs dry up; and locals get fired sending ripples of desperation out from a place that was once a beacon of hope and service.

Trust the local ones.  They continue to come and find us.  I was able to send next Sunday’s message with one of those hungry young men too.  Apparently, it is awaited for quite expectantly in our absence.  Humbling, infinitely hopeful and hugely wonderful.. 

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The book, which is completely the fault of, and doing for, local Mama’s; is being edited in two languages and we pray that it will be affordably printed here before we, likely, head back to the states.

I know, absolutely crazy to think we can afford a printing, but we have to try

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April 3^rd --

Got a message this morning at 4:AM from the honest mechanic given to us by another rare honest one.  He has found a water-pump for the Lister-Peter diesel gen-set located at an Evangelist training College at Oldanyosambu, bush country on the way to Kenya.

The only part, found on the continent, is in South Africa and costs, with shipping to us here, $632.00.  You are right, that is expensive.  We live and work where there are no NAPA nor other like suppliers. 

This bush College, for older people serving, their own bush people; has no power and local power authority could care less. 

I ordered it, asking this diligent Islamic mechanic to get it coming before going to Prayer this morning.

Do your awesome praying thing you-all.  Thank You!!

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You who read and pray and suffer along with us.  Please believe what we get to see.  Thank you for praying our strength and guidance for each moment with each face.   Folks like you are beyond precious.  vwilliamson@sprynet.com

Really blessed while deeply under attack..  all of it is spiritual..  I wish I could teach that to everyone so they could truly know it.  I didn’t know it for far too long. 

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 –

Pray for YWAM, YWAM families, Tanzanian families who choose Joy, over and over in defiance of death - 

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