Dear Cherished Interested’s, April 28th 2024
It has been a very busy, nearly first world, almost, two
weeks.
Edited the book, being published by Covenant out of North
Carolina, through Hilda, for the third time.
Sent that on to the publisher.
Blessed to have willing hands, working with us right here, that could
stand in, photographically, for hands of major characters in the book. Organized a photograph and description and
sent that on too, for Cover Art direction.
Everything is done for that now, to date, turned in, and
successfully received back in the States.
Praying,
Praying, Praying..
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Fundi found a part for the stupid little truck up in
Nairobi. Part was held at the border for
bribes. Fundi sent friend to collect the
part. Part was wrong part.
When I last found my amazingly diligent fundi, and new
father, he had traveled to Nairobi himself.
And he was still there with the old part, looking for the right one.
I am ever reminded of my grandmother’s letters describing
the Islamic men coming to talk with my Christian Missionary Uncle, at nearly
any hour, about work they were undertaking together. That was 1950’s Cameroun.
This is 2020’s Tanzania.
There is something deeply and surprisingly compelling in our work, with
and for Jesus Christ. It stirs willing
partnership regardless of temple, mosque, or church.
I pray that, in spite of the choices of the selfish and
jaded of any faith, God uses any willing to serve our strivings after life,
together. That is what Jesus sacrificed
for. That is what God creates.
Mind blown!.. Here we
are as part of that?
Your praying hearts and minds faithfully work miracles, as
part of that!
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We have not missed a week delivering Sunday messages to both
the Mama’s on the mountain, and the children at Makumira Secondary School. They get taken when we can get there either
Sunday or before.
I walked the messages to Makumira Secondary School Friday or
Saturday morning early, each week, again these past two weeks. Sometimes Hilda goes for the walk too. It is a, closer, bush walk with none of the
Big Five, but full of monkeys, birds, cows, crops, flowers, trees, bugs and
people. So, in a marvelously non-virtual,
truly-actual way, stopping to sip water here and there, it is tremendously
enjoyable.
Without transportation, we have sent the messages to the
Mama’s on the mountain twice now through our loving house help. No matter the horrors in her precious life, those
messages have gotten there each time.
We have missed worship for two Sundays now. This too is a result of no adequate
transportation. Especially at the time
necessary to get to English service at the Cathedral.
We got a phone call from Mchungaji Daktari, between services
there, this morning. He insists to
collect us next week if we remain, truck-less.
Hilda filled her church bag with Bible and local lutheran
church worship book and walked onto campus to attend 10:00 chapel. She has never been told not to be on campus,
only her husband. So, I can’t wait for
her to tell me of the worship there.
Worship that I miss more than I can say.
Your prayer again.
Thank you.
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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.
MORE update on this:
I was up early and working on this again this Sunday morning, like most
mornings with power. I get woken up
often around 2-3 AM to work on the messages for this book. This is identical to the time, Dad and I
would get up, to go take care of the dairy and get them milked.
Today, after Hilda arose, I found her to weep briefly into
the hair on the top of her head.
The final scheduled readings have been worked into
message. All Sunday messages for 2024
have been completed. As has the last
message for the scheduled readings, this for January 1st 2025.
There is no more, local Sunday lectionary, to write
for.
Our editors struggle so diligently to greet their own
demands for my English, and their local Tanzanian vernacular for Swahili. They often get to the end, of the only 4 days
a week we work, eyes bleary, laughing crazily, so mentally taxed in their
beautifully willing, linguistic struggling.
Yes, this local book will have a glossary of terms, from and
of, both languages. These are terms from
the messages that the editors have chosen as most problematic to
understand. One of them is still in her
twenties, the other is in her early thirties.
Both are brilliant polyglots with hard earned degrees and hearts for
God.
They are consistently reminded to question me on everything. And even as they discuss and argue, like
devoted and loving sisters openly challenging each other, every word and mark
of punctuation in both languages, the glossary has but one directive. If, either of them, thinks a term needs to be
included, it is included. No discussion
necessary.
Long way to go. Your
prayer deeply sought for this work too.
Thank You.
------------------------------------
There is one, among the many, touched by Hilda’s walks and
talks to gather perishables for our daily consumption. This is another young woman, pregnant without
the father’s continuing participation, in her life. Hilda has nursed and taught both this young
mother, and that young mother’s mother, in such trusted sincerity, a surprising
question came to us last week.
Please know that I, do not know, this young pregnant
woman. Her mother, I greet in Meru, as I
travel with Hilda. I do not attend the
more intimate talks and trainings regarding pregnancy and motherhood shared by
Hilda. So this question that came to us,
is entirely the result of Hilda’s heart as seen through Hilda’s efforts for
this woman’s sake.
This young pregnant woman plans to try, once again, to have
the father allow her to use the father’s surname on the infant’s birth
certificate when the child comes. IF the
father refuses; the question of Hilda is if she would allow this child to have
Hilda’s last name on that birth certificate.
This in thanks, and deep appreciation of who Hilda is, and what she
does, often quietly; while speaking joyfully and loudly.
Hilda is not this child’s father. Neither am I.
But, two street women struggling in life for the sake of the unborn of
one of them, want to honor a woman, Hilda, who listens and cares. I cannot say no, even if I, perhaps,
should.
We may live dangerously, but we are alive. Thank you for praying us the courage to live
this way, if dangerously. We don’t see
it that way.
-------------------------------
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.
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
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