Our BIG News

We're pregnant! We are very happy and excited for this new blessing in our lives and wanted to tell you about it. July 12 is our baby's due date. And in just two more days, we'll be 12 weeks along. Our plan is to return to the States for the birth. Stay posted for further news and details of our travel/speaking schedule.

Christmas

It used to be different.

Christmas was a season. And it wasn't just that, either. It was a mood.
It was a complex mixture of feelings and tastes and smells and sights.
Even the weather changed from warm summer to brisk autumn to cold winter
in preparation for the Christmas season. It was a time to enjoy the
warmth of the wood stove. It was a time to hang pretty strings of
lights. It was a time to be together with siblings and parents.

That was then. But now is different.

For the most part, the cues to signal the Christmas mood are absent.
There is no warm, apple pie in the oven. There are no Christmas lights
hanging in the window. There are no shopping trips to the mall where all
the shops are decorated and playing Christmas music. The weather is not
much different. It is too hot to be near a fire. Siblings and parents
and other relatives are thousands of miles away. Christmas comes and
goes, and we hardly seem to even notice.

Now is different. But is that bad? Or does it help us in a small way
understand the sacrifice of Jesus, of Whom this Christmas season is all
about?

Jesus was used to a life of peace and bliss. The angels sang praises and
honor to Him. He had wonderful sights and smells and enjoyed delicious
food. His close family were nearby and He enjoyed continual
communication with them. He lived in a perfect, sinless environment. Yet
He was not completely comfortable.

That was then. But things changed.

Sin entered the world. Then things were different. Everything was not
all peace and bliss, and His creatures were suffering under the affects
of sin and were unable to correct the situation. "I will go and
experience their misery. I will go and live among them and give them
hope," Jesus said. So Jesus left His family. He left His home. He left
His culture. He left familiar comforts and smells and sights. He left
everything to come here to give everything so that we could gain eternal
life.

Jesus did not complain. He remained focused on His mission until it was
finished. And what indescribably wonderful results!

No, I can't complain. Yes, I miss the way Christmas used to be. And so
does my wife. This is the fourth Christmas in a row in Africa for us.
But we are privileged to be doing the work God has given us. Our
sacrifices are nothing compared to those of our dear Jesus.

Life here is not ideal. But it never will be until Jesus comes again.
Until then, our work and your work is to prepare ourselves and others
for His return and for eternal life. The eternal reward infinitely
exceeds any inconvenience or sacrifice we can face in this life.

Jesus, thank You for your first coming and for giving us hope and
assurance that You will come again. Our work here on earth is brief, and
after it is done, we may live with You forever! I want to accept Your
offer of salvation and commit my life to you once again.

Cauliflower

We just enjoyed a taste of cauliflower for the first time in over two
years. I didn't know Africa made cauliflower. What a yummy treat!

Seedpods

Bang!

I awoke with a start. Was that a gunshot? In this country it would
certainly not be unlikely to hear a gunshot. But why at this time of
night? It's only a little before midnight. The light of the guard sweeps
across campus. I'm a bit nervous.

As I drift off, I hear the noise again. Bang! And I hear what sounds
like an echoing.

I'm half asleep and I cannot make sense of what I hear. I reassure
myself that it is fairly distant still and go back to sleep.

The next night I hear the same sound. And I hear it again. This time I
am more awake and analyze the sound better. Maybe the bang is a seed pod
exploding in the treetops and maybe the echoing sound is the seeds being
dispersed like raindrops onto the thick jungle bushes below.

Just yesterday I found a tree that had a pod close enough to pick. The
pod is about eight inches long and three inches wide. It is super stiff
and under tension. I pick it, then throw it on the ground on its tip.

The pod pops open and disperses some seeds.

Mystery solved.

Lots of Questions

Yesterday, after driving for about 1 hour and 40 minutes Jonathan and I
arrived at church. The rest of our group was going on 10 more kilometers
to the next church. When we arrived at our location we found out that
the elder had just finished doing church with everyone but as soon as he
heard that Jonathan had a sermon for them he eagerly called the people
back to church. After Jonathan finished his sermon on Jesus' soon return
the people had lots of questions. Since we had plenty of time because we
were waiting for Tammy and Keith, Luke and Chantee, to come back
Jonathan started answering their questions. For the next probably 1 1/2
hours he answered questions about salvation, baptism, and lastly the
state of the dead. It was a blessing to be there. I felt like God was
blessing this church service with sincere people who wanted to know the
truth. It was a couple non-adventist visitor who happen to stop by that
asked most of the questions. At the end of the service I told the story
of Jesus' birth to the eager kids. Jonathan and I were blessed in doing
the Lord's work.

Our Prayer for Chad

Will you join us in praying that God's work in Chad will prosper and
that His way will be known in all the earth?

"God be merciful to us and bless us, And cause His face to shine upon
us. Selah That Your way may be known on earth, Your salvation among all
nations." Psalm 67:1-2

Evangelism

I've been reading through the book Evangelism and I highly recommend it.
This time I'm reading it cover-to-cover and am greatly blessed and
motivated to work more enthusiastically and with more focus than before.
You should read this great book, too! I'm around page 300 and hope to
finish the 700+ pages before the end of the year.

Green Papaya

I've discovered the wonderful yumminess of green papaya. Papayas are
plentiful here in DRC. A papaya tree recently blew over in a storm and I
got a bright idea. I've had green papaya before, but have never prepared
it. Nobody here knew what to do. But I chanced on a pretty good recipe:

grate one green papaya (peeled and seeds removed)
grate one onion
mince some fresh garlic
blend one coconut with some extra water

Put all of that into a fry pan. The natural oil in the coconut helps it
fry up into a very yummy dish. Good on rice.

Grated green papaya tastes similar to grated zucchini.

Koumra Adventure August 31

We awake early yet again, load the vehicle, get fuel, and head slowly
down the road. Our research tells us several things. There is a good
mechanic in Doba who can probably fix our brake issues. Also, there are
reports that another road previously closed by flooding is now open and
that it might be better than the road between Lai and Doba. We ask God's
direction and continue down the road.

The paved road is as good as some I have seen in the States. It is
amazing. I'm not sure who funded it, but I think European Union and
maybe the Chinese oil drillers.

At Doba the brake problem is fixed. We fill up on fuel and continue.

After Mondou, we leave the paved road and begin the last leg of our
adventure. The road slowly gets worse and worse. At one large mud pit,
the locals had cut branches and logs and demanded a fee before allowing
us through. I gave them 100cfa, or about 20 cents.

When we were just about 20km away from home, the road widened into a
massive spread of black slop. I chose what looked like the best route,
but got stuck in the mud. We had made it through so many obstacles and
so much deep mud, and now we are stuck in a shallow slop? I am not
feeling well. Melody takes my temperature and I am 100.7 degrees. I just
want to get home at this point.

We pray earnestly to God to help us and for the angels to push and lift
us. We dug ramps and put a board under one of the tires. Spinning and
slinging mud, I barely pulled out and got the vehicle back onto some
more solid ground. Thank you, Lord!

We arrived home, tired and exhausted, but awed by God's protection and
help on our long journey. We had passed over 500 kilometers on African
roads, about a third of that over mud and sand, and we are safe. The
vehicles arrived safely. And we left behind a happy congregation who I
ma sure worshiped joyfully last Sabbath for the first time in their new
church building.

P.S. My fever was caused by malaria. I am currently on treatment.

Koumra Adventure August 30

With another early start, we depart for the church site one more time.

Though our start is a bit late in the morning, we make good progress.
People are helpful and happy and there is a sense of excitement in the air.

Not a single piece of steel is missing and we complete the church.

A guy looked for parts to fix the vehicle, but did not find any. We
wonder if we will have to go back on public transport.

In the evening, adults and children gather together sing several songs.
There is a speech or two, thanking God for the donors and for the gift
of this new church.

After our baths, they feed us a meal of rice and black-eyed peas. Peanut
oil and sugar were the two provided condiments. Sweet beans are actually
pretty good.

It is night now, but the prospective Bible students for our Bible school
want to have a meeting with me. I answer their many questions as best as
I can and tell them to keep in touch.

We are all grateful to God for bringing us this far and for allowing us
to be successful in constructing the church. We do not know how we will
make it home tomorrow, but we go to sleep and leave that decision for
tomorrow.

Koumra Adventure August 29

We awake early and load the vehicle with supplies and get some fuel. We
head out of town about 15km and arrive at the church site. The people
had built walls for a church before, but the wind had blown the walls
down. We see some corners of the old structure and a pile of twisted
rebar, cement crumbles, and brick heaps obscured by brush and weeds.

I ask, "Can I see your cement and sand and gravel please?" They seem
bewildered. "Didn't you get my SMS message about that?" one person
inquires. "Well, I didn't see any." "Must be the problem of bad signal,"
another concludes.

We are ready to turn around and go back home. Nobody is ready. No
materials are here. We only have foundation stakes with us. But we
decide to do the best we can with the circumstances we find ourselves
in. I say in no unclear terms, "If we do not get cement and gravel this
morning, and if we do not have a site ready, we cannot finish your church."

All of a sudden, the church members get moving pretty quickly. They cut
and clear and move bricks. They crush old cement and extract enough
gravel to use for our foundation holes. The ladies go with bowls and
collect sand from the road. A man comes back on a motorcycle with the
two sacks of cement.

We measure out the foundation, and by late afternoon, all the stakes are
perfectly set. We still have no materials to complete the church.

Throughout the day we were given gifts of raw peanuts in the shells, raw
eggplant (to eat like an apple), and boiled corn on the cob. These
filled some cracks in our stomachs.

Because there is not sufficient water at the place where we are staying,
we all bathed here. The "shower" was a combination toilet/bathing area
surrounded by a meek and feeble grass-and-sticks "fence" about waist
high. Indeed, we note the interesting challenges of living in the bush.

When we return to our sleeping house back in town, we are half happy and
half dismayed to find a heap of material for three churches scattered on
the ground. It is late. We are tired. But if we don't push, it won't get
done. So we sort all those pieces -- about 370 of them -- into piles of
church 1, church 2, and church 3.

After 10pm, we finally get to grab a few bites to eat. White bread from
the market with peanut butter and some nuts and dried fruit we brought
from home. We quickly fall asleep.

Koumra Adventure August 28

We have a long-standing request to build three One-day-churches in the
area of Koumra, a village about 230km south-east of here. Because of our
schedules, we determine that this week will be the week to go down
there. We have been assured that the materials are going to be there
already and that each site has been prepared and that there is cement,
sand, and gravel for the foundations.

Last evening we loaded up the hospital Land Cruiser with the materials
after double checking that everything on the list of tools was there. I
decided to throw in an extra bag of each type of screws in case some get
stolen or for some reason we need more.

We were rolling out before 5am, and had been told to expect about a
4-hour trip. I decided to take our motorbike to help with any troubles
we might have with the vehicle. Almost right away, we encountered a
large, deep puddle. We went through with the motorbike, but it was
almost too deep. The truck made it through, barely, and we continued
toward Lai.

Then, less than an hour into our journey, the brakes got weak. We bled
the front brakes and cleaned and adjusted the back brakes. In the rice
fields beside us, naked fishermen were checking their nets and hooks for
fish. Our brakes were significantly improved, so we decided to continue.

Upon reaching Lai only 22km along our journey, the road near the river
was swamped in areas. The level of the river was higher than the road.
Once we got on a more built-up road, progress was slow, but OK. We
encountered lots of mud and mud puddles. Sections of the road were
wonderfully smooth.

Then we got away from town and the road got less wide and was not built
up anymore. We were now out in the bush. I kept thinking, "If the road
gets much worse, we'll have to cancel the trip." Then I thought, "If we
turn around, we have to face all the obstacles we already have been
through." On we pushed, through small towns, through hundreds of mud
puddles, over deep ruts and gullies.

We pass a vehicle coming from the other direction. We ask him about the
road ahead. He said, "There's a little water but nothing bad. No
problem." We are encouraged to push ahead.

Around 11am, we encounter a vast stretch of water. We ask the people,
"Is it deep?" They say, "The truck is fine, but only put one person on
the motorbike." Darren and Joanne were on the bike at the time, and they
decided to both go ahead and test it out. I followed in the vehicle.
Ahead, I saw them sink deeper and deeper until the water was almost knee
deep, close to the level of the air intake. Darren stops the bike, and
the man zooms up with his dugout canoe to "rescue" Joanne. She hops into
the canoe and is ferried to the other shore. Darren verifies the path,
and the vehicle makes it fine.

As we mount the next hill and view the other side I comment, "This may
be the end of progress for today." Ahead is a low area of land
completely swamped with water. We cannot see anything but water ahead. I
decide to walk this section. It started shallow, but deepened until
almost waist level on me. There is no way we can even push a motorbike
through this. It would be mostly submerged. "We can put your motorbike
in the canoe," the men eagerly suggest. "For a fee," I think. But what
are we to do? Is it wise to put a new motorcycle in a tippy dugout? But
these guys know how to operate a canoe. So we load the canoe with the
motorbike, and Joanne gets in, too. Eventually, both the vehicle and
bike cross this section of probably 500-700 meters of water.

The people say this is all, and that the rest is fine. We encounter more
water across the road and more mud pits, but eventually we make it to
the paved road at Doba. We are half-way on our journey now.

Because of increasing brake troubles, we progress slowly. Eventually we
make it to the place where we will stay for the night. We ask some
questions and begin figuring out some discouraging news. "The pastor is
not here yet. He's the only one that can show you the church land." "The
materials are not here yet." "The land for the second church has been
taken back by the government." "The land for the third church is
inaccessible because the roads are under water."

What are we to do now? We have been promised that everything is ready.
Now we are told that two places are not even an option, and we have no
materials yet for the one place that might be an option 15km away. We
wound not have come if we knew this. Maybe that is why they didn't tell
us. We leave this situation in God's hands and sleep, not knowing what
tomorrow will bring.

Protection

Our motorcycle has been fairly reliable since 2009 when I arrived in
Chad. Until recently. Over the last few months, we have spent a fair
amount of money trying to repair it, yet it still continues to be
unreliable. The roads are full of puddles and wet, muddy holes. Last
Sabbath we pushed our motorbike about 3km back home after it quit on our
way to church. We decided that it was time to get a new bike.

On Sunday, I took advantage of a flight to Moundu. Gary and Darren were
along also. The plan was for us to get two motorbikes - one for somebody
else and one for me. Darren and I would drive them about 130km by road
back to Bere.

Purchasing the two motorbikes and doing the paperwork took a number of
hours, but it was finally done. As we did one last check over the
motorbikes before beginning the journey back home, Gary pointed out a
nut on the brake mechanism that needed to be safetied. I found a strip
of wire on the ground and tied the wire around it to keep it attached. I
clipped the two extra pieces off. Then the Holy Spirit spoke to me
and said, "Save the rest of that wire. You might need it." I promptly
put the wire in the pocket of my backpack, even though it was only about
three inches long.

The trip started fairly well. A few minor problems showed up, but we
fixed them and continued. The bike seemed very low on power until we
discovered bubblewrap covering the air intake. It worked fine when we
removed that. The road heading North from Moundu to Kelo is much
improved from what it was even a couple years ago. It is paved and
well-maintained, at least according to African standards. We were
rolling along at a pleasant 40-45mph most of the way.

After reaching Kelo, we turned East onto the dirt road headed to Bere.
The first section is very rocky and quite bumpy. The sun was setting,
and with all of our delays, we knew we would be driving the last portion
of our journey in the dark. This road is full of puddles, some of which
are shallow, some of which are very deep. Even in the day time, it is
hard to identify deep puddles. At night, it is much more difficult. But
we were committed at this point and kept going.

All of a sudden I heard a "clink", and then a few moments later,
"clatter, clatter, clatter" and lost power. Either the chain was broken
or it had fallen off. Getting upset or frustrated does no good, so we
started to look at the problem. My Leatherman came in handy as it does
almost every day, and we soon had the chain back on the bike. A rubber
piece got chewed up, so we just removed it and the bike worked fine.

As we were working on this smaller moto, Darren was commenting on the
larger one he had been driving for the past half-hour or more. He said
the steering felt wobbly or loose. We thought that maybe it was just the
feeling of the new suspension of a new bike over the rocky road. Then
Darren pointed at the wheel and said, "Hey, look at this!"

The large nut had fallen off of the front axle bolt. This is the bolt
that holds the front tire onto the steering fork. And this bolt was
hanging several inches out the other side. It was just through one of
the sides of the fork. If the tire had come off while we were on the
pavement going 45mph, the accident would have been terrible. Even if it
came off on the dirt road where our speed was slower, it would have been
a dangerous situation.

Darren and I thanked God for protecting us and for keeping the front
tire attached somehow.

"How are we going to fix that?" I wondered aloud. We do not have a spare
nut. A few people came from the huts nearby, but none of them had nuts
or even wire.

Then I remembered the small piece of wire I had put in my backpack. "Let
me try something," I said, as I fished around for that little piece of
wire. "I hope it's long enough." Finding it, I discovered that it was
just long enough to go around the circumference of the bolt one time
with enough extra to twist. Using my Leatherman, I twisted the wire
firmly onto the threads of the bolt right where the nut would normally
sit. Then I pulled a piece of string out of my pocket and tied it
tightly around the wire and bolt as a second "precaution."

Night had fallen by now. Praising God one more time, we turned our
headlights on, and started down the muddy road toward home. At least
another 40km of road lay before us. The repair held perfectly, and we
arrived safely at home some time later.

Life experiences teaches me and reinforces important lessons:

When God speaks, listen! Even if He says, "Save that piece of wire. You
might need it sometime," obey.

When "bad" things happen, thank God. We do not always see why, but we
got to see why on this trip. Having to stop and fix a chain was
inconvenient perhaps, but allowed us time to notice a far greater danger.

All inspiration comes from God. I do not claim credit for the fancy
twisted wire trick, but credit God for the idea.

Thank you, God, for showing me Your care and protection over me once again.

Red, Our Monkey

Today something very sad happened. My favorite pet I have ever had, a
monkey, got bit by a dog and died. We have had this pet monkey since
March 2011. He was just a baby then. He grew up to be a very fun,
loving, and mischievous, pet. He would ride on my arm when Jonathan and
I went for walks in the bush. He also loved going on the motorbike to
the river with us, clinging to me all the way. He played a lot of pranks
too. He would race into the house, grab a banana and run out for all he
was good for! The locals used to call him my baby when he was little
because I would carry him around so much. Even my husband says "Red" was
his favorite pet he has ever had.

Sabbath

Darren and Joanne are still sick, but Darren is doing somewhat better.

Melody and I traveled down to Dabgue this Sabbath. On the way we picked
up a girl who wanted to come again, but her mom was sick. The road was
quite wet and we had to drive through a lot of muddy water.

Today, instead of preaching, I played a few selections from the audio
Nangjere Bible. I think I will do this again, as the people seemed to
connect better. They really appreciate hearing the Bible in their own
language. Melody told a Bible story on Jesus and the storm, and we
played the associated passage from Mark 4 Nangjere Bible.

The former chief's wife is gravely ill. We visited with her last week
and this week we returned to see her and to pray.

After that we continued with the girl to her mom's house. Her mom is
sick. She has been to the hospital and purchased medication, but is not
using the medication. She wonders why she is so sick still. She says the
medication makes her dizzy. "Malaria is deadly," I said, "but the
dizziness should only last a week." We tried and tried to convince her
to use the medications she had purchased so that she can regain her
strength and health again. After prayer, we returned home.

In the afternoon, we drove to Kasire, the branch Sabbath-school Darren
and Joanne normally lead. The road was bad, especially in one deep
section where Melody waded/walked and I weasled through on the moto. At
the village, we presented the story of Jesus in the storm and Paul in
the storm (Acts 27). As we play audio Scripture, we are finding that
people really connect with the passage better. Nobody really knows how
to read well, and by the time somebody struggles through reading a few
verses, nobody can really remember what the passage said. But with a
smooth reader, they can easily listen to a whole chapter at a time. We
returned home just before the rain started to fall.

Please pray for this group of people that they will continue learning
and growing.

Another day...

This Friday morning I awoke and made plans for the day. By now I know
that plans are rarely carried out exactly as designed, and this day was
no different.

Darren is sick with malaria, so is unavailable to help with work today.

The old lady with crutches came wanting a new shirt because the
under-arms were worn out from the crutches. She also wanted her crutches
repaired. Melody got her a shirt and I repaired her crutches. Several
other people wanted this or that. Once they were dealt with, I welded a
few things.

My plan was to go out to the nutrition center property to repair some
windows. The design is bad and they leak terribly in the rain.

Then I got a call. One of the malnourished babies has died. The family
is digging the grave already and wants me to come say a few words before
the burial. I hop on our moto, but the chain is loose. The "mechanics"
didn't do such a great job. I tighten the chain and then Melody and I
meet up with Bronwyn at the parents' house.

There is only a small crowd there. The women are seated on a couple mats
surrounding the mother. A relative is holding the dead baby there on the
mat. We great the sobbing mother and the others who have come to
sympathize with her. The men are standing around the small fresh hole,
which is only about eight inches square and about two feet deep.

I talk briefly with the dad who says that they are just waiting for me
to arrive. He said a few words. Then I shared a few words, perhaps for
only five minutes. I reminded them of the resurrection. I reminded them
that although this life is sometimes harsh, heaven will be a place of
peace. Their baby may play with lions. They, if faithful, will get to
see their baby grow up in heaven. Then we prayed.

"You take the baby," they say. So I kneel down next to the mother and as
I reach out my hands her sobbing increases. I take the baby in my arms
and carry it to the hole. The hole is lined with some cardboard and we
put the body in feet first. After packing the hole with dirt and
covering it with bricks, the job is done. The whole process took maybe
fifteen minutes.

I join the men sitting under a tree and we talk about this and that.
After a while one man says, "You Adventists do not believe in Jesus,
right?" A bit confused, I reply, "Jesus is foundational to what we
believe." He explains his question more and so we launched into a good
discussion about what the Bible teaches about several topics he had
questions about. I believe that God used this opportunity to bring me
and some village men together to talk about some things and to challenge
some long-held beliefs of theirs.

Next, Melody and I go to the market to get some salt and matches and
peanuts.

Upon returning home after 1pm, Melody starts preparing lunch. Roland and
I go out to pump water at the nutrition center. This involves hooking up
the generator trailer, adding some diesel fuel, driving it out to the
center and running the pump for about 40 minutes.

We just got the pump running when Melody calls me. "There's a man here
with a snakebite..." I drop everything, hop on the motorbike, and race
back to our compound. The man is sitting on a bench. I ask a few
questions and find out that the small black snake bit him three hours
ago while he was working in his rice field 12km from here. He got here
as fast as he could. The pain was mostly near the groin area. His toe,
the bite site, was mildly swollen. Melody and I gave him charcoal
internally and externally, and I gave him the moto-shock treatment. Then
his friend took him via moto to the hospital. I do not know the rest of
the story.

By now the time is close to 3pm. Sabbath is coming and there is a lot
left to do.

Gary arrives from his trip around 3:30pm and I help arrange to park the
plane. I still have to fuel the motorbike, lock containers, pump and
haul water for Darren and Joanne, pay one of my mason's for his work,
bathe, and do whatever else needs to be done before sundown.

By sundown, everything was squared away and we peacefully began the
Sabbath. My plans never materialized. The windows are not fixed. All day
I was busy doing other things.

But sometimes that is what happen when we commit our plans and goals to
God every morning. God gives help to keep from getting frustrated when
our plans fail. But if God's plans are accomplished, the day is a success.

A Painful Night

Some of you may have heard about Yaga's son dying. From what we know he
died of diarrhea and malnutrition. It was so sad. Jonathan and I were
awaken by and phone call and got up at 10:30pm from a sound sleep and
went to his place. People were dancing and drumming loudly. Others were
wailing in sadness including Yaga. Jonathan shook his hand then I did
the same. From there I went and sat with the women and Jonathan sat with
the men. I prayed several times for God's protection while I watched the
people dance. It made me feel uncomfortable and afraid because I knew
that this kind of dancing invites Satan. There was a short break in the
dancing for reading in the Bible and singing, but then the dancing
started again. After about an hour or so they had the hole dug to bury
the boy. It was so sad to watch. Lots of women were wailing. Bronwyn
told me that someone told her that they cry like this because it
reminds them of their own babies death when they see others being
buried. Yaga also was wailing and wailing. I have never seen a man cry
so much. It made me feel like I had to leave and go sit down but I
waited until they buried the baby and then I went a little ways away and
sat down. I felt sick. When Jonathan I got home we prayed together
before going to sleep for Yaga and his family and God's projection.
Around 1:30am we went to sleep.

Smoking Taxi Man

On our way back from Moundu, the man driving the car started smoking.
Here is a summary of our conversation.

"My brother," I speak to him, "is smoking good for your health?"

"No," he nervously chuckles. Then he chucks his newly lit, unfinished
cigarette out the window.

I say, "My grandmother died early due to her smoking habit."

"Yes, and me too. I will probably die young," he said.

"Then why do you smoke?" I asked. "You are paying the cigarette company
to kill you."

"I've tried and tried to quit many times. I have a bad cough, and I am
sick inside. I do not really eat much anymore. I just smoke. I really
want to quit..." He shakes his finger and his head and clicks his
tongue, obviously quite discouraged. "No, no, no. But it doesn't work. I
can't."

"If I could invite you to a program to help you stop smoking, would you
be interested?"

His countenance turned from discouragement to expectant hope and he
said, "Yes, yes. I really want to stop."

"Stopping is difficult. You might feel like you will nearly die, and the
struggle might be hard, but it is possible. I'll contact you sometime
soon with more details." We exchanged phone numbers.

I've never taught a stop-smoking class. I've never smoked. But we have
an opening to help this man. And we can point him to One who has more
than enough power to help him stop smoking and return to a more
healthful life. Please pray for him.

Yage's son

"Who's calling me at this time of night?" I wonder as I try to rouse
myself out of a deep sleep. I don't recognize the number, but pick it up
anyway. I don't understand the mumbling on the other end of the line, so
I hang up. My cell phone rings again. Same number. I ignore it, thinking
it is just a wrong number.

Then later we get a call from one of our team. It's after 10pm. "Yage's
son just died." I begin to awaken better and think back over the past
few weeks. His cute little boy became sick. He went to the hospital, but
he didn't get better. So Yage tried the local clinic. That didn't work.
So he went back to the Adventist hospital. The medication didn't help.
After spending nearly $70 (a large sum), the boy got sicker and sicker.
Now, he is dead. I can hear the drum beating in the distance.

Melody and I hop on the motor bike and drive out to Yage's home.
Probably a couple hundred people have already gathered. There is an LED
light hung from the tree branch. The continual drum beat has attracted
the children and adults who instinctively crowded around the drums and
dance and shake. We are led to Yage. He is sitting on the ground,
wailing out loud, devastated. I sit next to him and Melody goes to find
the mom and sit with the women.

Yage says that he has done everything he knew to save his baby. Now his
baby is gone. He does not understand, but seems to have faith that God
is in control and that God sees what is happening.

A few men gather to dig the hole in the compound. About four hours after
his death, the boy is in the grave. It is after midnight now and people
begin heading home.

Why? Just this year alone, Pierre buried his girl. Aaron buried his boy.
Ossa buried his boy. And now Yage buried his boy. Please pray especially
for the new believers here. Satan loves to attack those who have made a
commitment to follow God completely. Someday soon, sin and suffering
will end. May we remain faithful until then.

Dust Devil

"That's a dead person traveling," said somebody in our group, pointing
to a fairly large dust devil passing nearby. "He's on a voyage."

"Yes," added another person, "that is what our parents taught us and
what their parents taught them."

"What do you think?" someone asked, turning to me. "Is that somebody's
soul?"

"Where is he going?" I asked innocently.

"We don't know. Just that way," they reply.

We are just leaving the hottest part of the year now. Temperatures are
cooling down to a more comfortable 100 in the day and 90 at night. But
for a while, we would see several dust devils every day. These
mini-twisters are not very dangerous unless there is large items like
tin or planks around for it to throw around.

"I can tell you what I think. And you can tell me what you think. But
how will we know what it really is?" I asked. "The Bible tells us
whether or not this is the soul of a dead person traveling. The Bible
says that the soul who sins shall die (Ezekiel 18:4). On the day that a
person dies, his plans die with him. He doesn't plan any more voyages
(Psalm 146:4). The dead do not know anything, and they do not work
(Ecclesiastes 9:5,10)."

"That's right," piped up a lady who finally had the courage to speak her
thoughts. She had studied this topic before and knew what the Bible
teaches. "Those dust devils are just some wind blowing dust and sand
around."

I am amazed at how often the people cling to their traditional beliefs
when they know from Scripture that those beliefs are false. African
culture is fine to the extent that it does not conflict with truth. This
culture has many good things to teach us. But the people choose to
continue living in fear of the spirits and in fear of revenge from their
dead relatives and friends.

May God help us to bring freedom and peace to the lives of these dear
people around us.

How to Make a Brick

First, get a bucket and a rope and haul up a bunch of water from the
well. The water is about 30 feet down. Dump the water into a basin until
it is full. Then put the basin of water on your head, walk over to where
you want to dig dirt, and dump the water on the ground. Bricks are made
in dry season when the dirt is very hard, so the water will help to
soften the ground.

Barefoot, so you don't ruin your cheap plastic shoes, dig with a hoe or
pick or shovel any dirt that is soft enough to move and pile it in a
heap. Continue until you have a large hole with a large pile of mud
beside it. Mix in some straw with the mud.

Now, take your wooden form for two bricks at a time, lay it on the
ground, and fill each side with mud. Level the mud with your hands and
fingers. Then lift up the form to leave two rectangular piles of wet mud
to harden in the sun for a few days. Continue the process over and over
again until you have rows of mud bricks drying in the sun.

After the bricks have sunbaked for a few days, look for a scrap of metal
- a broken knife, a piece of a hoe, a scrap of an old motorbike,
anything to scrape with, and chip off the rough edges and the mud that
oozed out beneath the form when you were forming the brick.

Now it is time to make a pile to fire the bricks. Arrange the bricks in
layers in the shape of a square or rectangle maybe 10 feet across. Every
third layer, shuffle the bricks so that there are empty spaces between
the bricks. These spaces are for the charcoal. Continue making layers
1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, ... until the bricks are used up. Layers 1 and 2
leave small holes to fill with charcoal so that the fire will travel up
the stack and find the layer 3s. Layer 3, leave lots of spaces all over
and fill with charcoal which will burn and heat up the stack.

Once the stack is all built, it looks like a square pyramid. Now coat it
with a layer of wet mud all around to seal in the smoke and heat.

At night, so you don't bake in the sun, light a fire with sticks at the
bottom of the stack. As the fire follows the charcoal strategically
placed all through the stack, it eventually heats the whole stack until
it glows on the inside.

After a few days the bricks are cool enough to remove and use.

What a lot of work! Each brick sells for about $0.08. Transport via
oxcart to where you want it is about $0.02 per brick.

Old Lady

Jonathan and I arrived at church early today. As we sat and waited for
people to come so we could start church I noticed an old lady sitting
next to her hut. She looked like she was eating. I believe I felt
impressed by the Holy Spirit that I should go and visit her. Why not?
I'm just sitting here not accomplishing much. I continued to watch her
at a distance and waited until it looked like she had finished eating. I
didn't want to interrupt her.

This old lady lives very close to the church. When sitting on the
benches at church we can see right into her yard yet it is a little ways
away. As soon as she got up and started walking around I got up and
walked over to see her. "What shall I say to her? She doesn't understand
French," I thought. We shook hands and said, "Lopia, Lopia" several
times. I repeated after her as she spoke some more Nangere words that I
didn't understand but she seemed to be happy that at least I was saying
something in her language. The old lady pointed at the pile of bricks
that are being made for the church. Then I pointed at the bricks too and
said, "Brick". She said, "Brick." "Good" I thought, "at least she knows
the word for brick in French." I tried to tell her in French that the
bricks were being made for the church but of course she didn't understand.

Next I tried to talk to her about the mangoes. This time of year
everyone is eating mangoes because there are mangoes everywhere.
Pointing at the mango tree I said, "Mango, you eat lots of mangoes." and
I motioned with my hands putting my hands to my mouth. I was trying to
talk to her about how everyone is eating mangoes and she must be eating
a lot too. To my surprise she started saying many words that I didn't
understand and then she disappeared behind her succo wall close to her
hut. Then the thought hit me. "Oh, no, she thinks I'm asking her to give
me some mangoes!" Sure enough, a minute lady she came out with three
green mangoes while washing them in some dirty water. I tried to explain
to her that I wasn't asking for mangoes but seeing this was impossible
to communicate, since she basically doesn't know a word of French, I
took them with thanks. I said, "Merci beaucoup (thank you a lot), merci
beaucoup." and she repeated after me, "Merci beaucoup, merci beaucoup."
Repeating after each other was one of the only ways to find words to say!

Then pointing at the church I tried to convince her that I wanted her to
come to church. After a little bit she disappeared behind her succo
again and then appeared again this time with a stick in hand as to say,
"I'm ready to go now!" I walked slowly with her following me toward the
church but about half way there she hesitated. She pointed at her dirty
old shirt and then at my dress which I'm sure she thought was very
beautiful. "Ca va, ca, va" I said, meaning it is just fine; she can come
to church even if she doesn't have nice clothes on. At the church she
shook everyones hands but then immediately turned to leave. I was
disappointed. I wanted her to stay and enjoy church with us. Quickly
pulling a nature picture book out I motioned for her to sit down and
look at pictures with me. She did and seemed to enjoy it for a short
while but she was eager to leave so after about 4 or 5 pictures she got
up and walked back home.

Next week I plan to bring her a new shirt and give it to her. I hope
that this will help her see that we care about her and hopefully she
will then feel comfortable coming to church in her new shirt.

New Church!

This Sabbath morning my husband I a left home extra early for church at
Dobgae. We wanted to do church at Dobgae and also go to church at the
new church that we just built recently. We have been wanting to put up a
church close to home in Bere for a long time and recently we finally got
the land and put up a church. Praise the Lord! Today was the first
Sabbath for that church to have a full service and naturally we felt it
important for us to be there too.

As we drove up to the new church that is only about a 10 minute walk
from our home we were very happy to see lots of people in the church. It
was nearly full! Of course a lot of people probably came mainly out of
curiosity but hopefully they will become members some day. It was so
nice also to see several people there that we have been personally
working with. Fredrick preached a very good sermon. God has given him
talent and we praise God that he is using it for God's work. We are very
excited about this new church. It is surrounded by lots and lots of
people that need to learn about Jesus. Please pray the Lord's blessing
on this church.

Who Sinned?

"There's one question," the man said at our Bible study, "that I don't understand. When an innocent child dies, whose fault is it? Is it a sin of the mother or the father or is it some sin of the uncle? I've asked a lot of people and nobody seems to really know."

In this culture, people believe that when a child dies, he is being punished for the sin of somebody in his family. After the death of a child, the family and neighbors chatter about which person they think has some hidden sin and what that hidden sin might be.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter what I think, although I'm happy to share my opinion. But let's look at a couple Bible texts first to see if we can find an answer."

John 9:1-7 Now as Jesus passed by, He saw a man who was blind from birth.  2 And His disciples asked Him, saying, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"  3 Jesus answered, "Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but that the works of God should be revealed in him.  4 I must work the works of Him who sent Me while it is day; the night is coming when no one can work.  5 As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world."  6 When He had said these things, He spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva; and He anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay.  7 And He said to him, "Go, wash in the pool of Siloam" (which is translated, Sent). So he went and washed, and came back seeing.

With excitement, he realized that while the exact circumstances in this story were different, the question and root issue were the same. This passage helped a lot. I suggested that he read the rest of the chapter when he got home, as it discusses this question in more detail. At the end Jesus brings out a lesson on spiritual blindness.

"But if your neighbors came to you with this question, what would you tell them?" he persisted.

"What I say can be helpful, but others can argue that they think something different. But if we approach people with answers from God's Word, they can't argue with that. Let's look at another verse," I suggest, as Melody points to a passage in Ezekiel.

Ezekiel 18:19-20 "Yet you say, 'Why should the son not bear the guilt of the father?' Because the son has done what is lawful and right, and has kept all My statutes and observed them, he shall surely live.  20 The soul who sins shall die. The son shall not bear the guilt of the father, nor the father bear the guilt of the son. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself."

As he finishes reading this passage, a big smile of surprise and satisfaction spreads across his face. "That's enough. It couldn't be clearer. Now we know the answer to this difficult question! Thank you!"

"Thank God," I reply. "It is the Holy Spirit who brings texts to the thoughts and gives us wisdom."

(We did briefly touch on the topic that sometimes innocent people do suffer from other sins. For example, an alcoholic pregnant woman harms her baby. The son may be affected by his parents' sins, but he does not bear their guilt.)

This Week

Jonathan and I are happy that it is almost Sabbath. It has been such a
busy week and Jonathan is feeling sick again. He is so tired. I hope he
doesn't have malaria or something.

It's really hot here now. Today it was 105F in the house! That's fast
becoming normal as this hot season is really here now.

Joanne broke her ankle falling off a bad horse. In her words, "he just
wouldn't stop!" She is in a lot of pain. I helped her this morning with
things.

Tomorrow we start church in Bendele for the first time! We put up the
One-Day-Church this week! We are so excited to have this done and start
church there. We will still continue church in Dabgue.

New Church

This week the land papers were finalized for the new Seventh-day
Adventist Church in Nergue Anna (a section of Bere like a "suburb"). The
location is within a five-minute walk of our compound and is well
placed, surrounded by population. A big tree near the church will also
serve as a nice shade shelter under which to do Sabbath School programs
for the kids.

Construction began Monday. Because of the intense heat and sun mid-day,
we decided to break the work up into three half-days: foundation, main
structure, and roofing. People are amazed when they walk by and see a
church structure where there was only a rough field a few days before.
We thank God for the blessing of safety during the construction. And for
the mangoes that gave us energy as we worked.

The days have been hot, about 105 degrees in the shade in the house. Out
in the sun, it is considerably hotter than that, especially when
roofing. But our crew worked well and happily together. Pierre is
especially happy.

I'll try get some pictures and post them soon. Brick walls should start
next week. Matthew is working on getting some benches ordered.

Grounded!

Our Cessna 172 has been working hard. We've been treating the engine as
best we know how. The plane was booked full of flights for the next
three weeks, some of them even international flights. But now the engine
oil temperature sensor is telling us some bad news: oil temperatures are
running abnormally high. The oil filter is also telling us bad news: it
has caught a small pile of magnetic metal shavings. Metal shavings tell
us that something is being slowly chewed to shreds in the engine. Gary
suspects it is a spun bearing.

Now we are grounded. We do not know the final solution, but it will
eventually involve shipping this engine back to the States and ordering
a newly rebuilt one to install here.

What is God's plan in this? Why did this have to happen just at the
point where we are beginning to depend more heavily on the airplane?
When will we be flying again - in four months? in six months? next year?
God knows. And He cares.

We choose to continue work with what resources we have. Please pray for
the ministry here as we face this challenge and continue seeking God's
wisdom for the unknown future. The devil is attempting to discourage us,
but we choose not to become discouraged. "I press toward the goal for
the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." Philippians 3:14

Dental Work and Health Talks

Lately I have been more involved with medical work. I have decided to go
to the hospital every Monday morning to listen to the consultations in
the ER. This will help me learn more French and learn more about the
diseases in Chad. It is quite a challenge sometimes though. Only a third
of the time are they even speaking French and often the patients mumble
the words out. I can hardly make out what they are saying sometimes. But
it's good for me and I am slowly learning.

Around 12:15pm I leave and eat lunch, do a few things around the house
and then I'm off again. I'm doing a charcoal health talk every week.
Each week I do it in a different location. A bunch of the SM's at the
hospital have decided to help on a project called, "Project 21". Monday
through Thursday every week we are teaching basic health to the locals.
I have decided to help with this project so my health talk on Monday's
is just one of many health talks that are being presented.

On Wednesday mornings every week we (Project 21) offer free dental
service. I'm helping with this also. 15 or more locals come each
Wednesday to get their teeth pulled. I'm not a dentist of course but
back in December 2009 a dentist trained me how to pull teeth and so I'm
happy to have this opportunity to get comfortable doing this again.

Frederick's First Sermon

I have asked Frederick a number of times if he would present a sermon,
but each time he declined saying that he does not know enough. Well, the
other day, I loaned him one of my two French concordances and explained
to him how to use it. I told him that this is what pastors use to
prepare sermons and Bible studies. Then I asked him if he would present
the sermon the next Sabbath. He accepted.

Today 17.March.2012 Frederick preached his first sermon! The topic of
his choice: The Two Covenants. His presentation was well studied through
and well delivered. It was a moment of joy for me to see how far he has
come in the last couple of years - from being baptized to preaching his
first sermon on the two covenants! I'm sure I'm a little biased, but it
was probably the best sermon I have ever heard from a Chadian.

His closing remarks at the end of the services were: "People will mock
us when we chose to accept the New Covenant. Absolutely, our friends
will mock us because we are Christians. Our families will mock us. But
keep your courage. Be strong. Be persistent. What matters is our loyalty
to God and heart obedience to truth. Maranatha!"

Thursday Tourne

We awoke early and I departed solo just about sunrise to verify the
strip at our next destination. Upon arrival, I circle the strip and note
the location of a few things to avoid: truck ruts at one end, a hole
near the same end, and a few rocks sprinkled around. Determining that I
could land safely with plenty of room, I descended to a smooth touchdown.

Crowds of children and adults came running toward the plane as I quickly
make a radio call and shut down. Walking the runway, I found quite a
number of rocks ranging in size from a few inches to a few about a foot
in diameter. These are not friendly to airplanes. So a whole team of
children lined up across the runway and together we "swept" it clean of
rocks. Rocks and sticks were flying everywhere, almost hitting several
kids. But all went well and a big job was made light and happy by
cheerful volunteering children.

I returned to Bere, fueled up, and picked up my passengers - this time
including Melody! We rolled to a stop, parked the plane, and began
walking toward the big lake, about a mile distant. The health clinic is
in a village on the other side of this lake. Arriving at the beach,
Melody and I are excited to see a large, wooden boat with a motor on the
end. We pile in and wait for our guide to start the motor. We talk about
the hippos and crocodiles that live in this lake. Later we hear about
the mystery monster fish that gives milk to it's babies. Huh?

On the other side, Melody and I meet the people at the clinic and are
offered the usual tea and gato snack. "No tea? How about Coke? What? You
just drink water?" This is the usual response wherever we travel and it
gives us an opportunity to teach these "health professionals" a bit of
simple health concepts.

When they start their meeting, Melody and I go explore a gully/wash and
eat some lunch. Dried bean flakes re-hydrated on bread that Melody made.
Then we walk down to the lake where there is vivid green grass. We
haven't seen such green for months, and it was quite refreshing. The
village children came in large numbers to surround us and to sing and
chant and be happy.

Finally, it is time to go. I had given our passengers a strict time
limit. If we are not at the plane by this time, we can't go home. We
have to stay in this village. Pressed for time, they opted to eat a
rushed rice-and-meat meal in the boat on the way back.

On the way to our their final stop, the pastor again picked up the
French Steps to Christ from the seat pocket. He was always either
reading 1 Samuel or Steps to Christ in the plane. I gave him a copy, and
gave one to the doctor as well.

We part ways with our health team and hope to meet up again in a couple
weeks to finish some more work. But for now, Melody and I need to find a
place to stay in Mondou for the night. It is too late to fly back to
Bere today. Dr. James and Sarah host us wonderfully. We enjoy the luxury
of a shower with running water!

Thank God for safe travels this far. We pray for all the literature left
behind and the influence of conversations and life in the various villages.

Wednesday Tourne

This morning I was served a breakfast with the group. They had rice and
sauce "with eyes" and I had my own little dish of seasoned rice "without
eyes." I was grateful for this meal. The rice was seasoned nicely with
onion and tomato.

I found a tub of half-icky water in the room where we bathed, so I got
my water filter and filled my bottles for the day. I am so grateful for
this little water filter.

The pickup truck for the local government officials arrived and we piled
in. After a quick stop to say hi to the government people, we were off
to the airstrip, maybe 5 kilometers distant. As I did preflight and
verified fuel and oil and security of various components, my passengers
were getting a little impatient about how long this process was taking.
I assured them that this option was better than dying in the bush after
a crash, and they calmed down.

I tried to contact base on the radio, but got no response. I try to
contact the people at our next destination, but no response. Cell phones
aren't working for now. So I take off anyway and head to Tchaguine. We
make good time with tailwinds and find the strip nicely cleared, but a
bit sandy.

While the doctor and pastor do their activities, I walk the runway and
get the GPS point for a newly erected cell tower near the runway. Then I
spend a pleasant few hours with a missionary couple based here. They
show me their solar-powered radio station and their house, designed to
catch and funnel cooling wind from any direction into the central living
area. We share a meal of local beans and rice and then head back to the
airplane.

Now we are bound for Bere, where my wife is eagerly waiting for me. It
was really good to get back home and eat a home-cooked meal. Melody and
I fuel the plane in preparation for tomorrow's travels, then crawl into
bed for some well-needed sleep.

Tuesday Tourne

I wake up during the night here in Bailli. Melody is not with me. I miss
her.

I do not hear any sounds. Must be around mid-night.

Later I wake up and hear roosters. I know it is after 4am, but not light
yet. Later, I hear bees humming in the trees. I know that dawn had
arrived; bees awaken with light. I read, pray, eat a few munchies
(including some dried apples), call Melody, filter some water, pack my
backpack, and walk out to the runway.

A man comes on a moto and insists that I must have some coffee. On the
way, I explain to him that plain water will be fine. Not tea? No coffee?
What? How do you find "la force" with just water? I sit down in a
plastic chair in front of a little table under a sticks-and-grass
shelter. The others arrive shortly. More food arrives, but I'm told that
this food has eyes in it. More hearty laughs.

I see my same platter. White bread, mayonnaise, and this tub of strange
stuff. At least I get a look at this strange stuff. Is it some sort of
sesame thing? I think so. I sort of like it. I sort of don't.

Back at the airplane, I do preflight and prepare to leave. I leave a
French book with the guard. He slept by the airplane on a couple of
cement sacks sewn together. He mumbled something about a disturbance at
three in the morning, but it was mostly Arabic and I didn't understand
everything.

Finally it is time to leave Bailli for Kourno. I talk to the runway
maintainer and tell him he has done a good job. Then I complain about
the bicycle man who drove out onto the runway. "That was me," said the
guard with a big grin on his face. "I was trying to get to the parking
spot before you got there." I told him that the airplane is very
dangerous and that it has a large knife spinning around in front. He
wasn't impressed.

After departure, I radio base with flight info and estimated arrival
time. It is nice to have radio following when flying out over the bush.
We cross miles and miles of vehicle tracks from the oil company. Here
and there are oil wells dug but capped off.

After landing at Kourno, I help the guys for almost three hours to fill
in holes in the runway. Some animals dug burrows under the runway and
they have collapsed, leaving some pretty big pits. Thankfully, they are
off the center. That done, I am escorted on moto about 5km to another
village nearby.

As I sit here typing on the porch area of an uninhabited former
missionary house, curious kids pop their heads around the corner to peek
at this stranger white man. As I turn my head to look at them, they duck
back behind the corner and giggle. Finally some of them get up the
courage to greet me. I invite them over and show them some pictures of
American animals.

I am served a nice salad with onions, lettuce, and tomato. A lady comes
and gives me a Pepsi. I reply that I prefer water. I tell her why, and
she is interested. She wanted to know what I eat. She somehow heard that
I don't eat anything with eyes. She said she would take a portion of the
rice and put just tomato and oil in it. I told her that would be fine.

She asked about our mission with GMI. She asked about my family and
children. I asked about hers. I said, "In my village, sometimes the
girls get married at 13 or 14 years old." She said such an age is too
young and not good. "You should be at least 15 years old before getting
married." I told her that I waited until I was 27 years old and my wife
was 23. "You were wise..."

The day is cooling off. They tell me my bath water is ready. Then we
will probably eat.

Tonight I will share a room with the two other guys I'm flying around.
We each get a thin foam mattress about 2 feet wide. Luxury.

Monday Tourne

Monday I picked up a Chadian doctor and pastor to start a medical
tourne. The plan is to go from village to village to check up on the
medical clinics already existing and to do administrative stuff.

From Ndjamena, our first stop was the village of Bailli. As I was on
short final, I saw a man racing toward the runway on his bicycle. I
thought that surely he should stop but that surely he wouldn't stop
before crossing the runway, so was prepared to do a go-around. Sure
enough. He looked up, saw the airplane coming, and pedaled even faster
as he entered the runway just about the same time and place I would have
touched down. I just extended my touch-down point to beyond where he was
and landed safely with plenty of time.

Shortly after shutdown, hundreds of curious people came to see the
airplane. We unloaded the packages and the doctor and pastor went off to
work while I stayed behind with the airplane. Once finished, I walked
the runway and got the GPS points for ends and center. Then a man took
me by moto to the health center.

After a while, we had boule to eat. The sauce looked even more real than
snot itself, and it was very long (up to a meter). Chunks of bone and
tendons and veins protruded. The rice boule and the millet boule were ok
and I ate a bit of each. Then I went with one of the EET church
officials and got GPS points for two new cell phone towers in the village.

Next we visited the large church of 300+ members. The church building
was of course mud-brick and dirt floor, but quite large. Inside were
several benches and a termite-eaten pulpit supported by a brick on one
side. Then I visited with this man's family at his home. He wanted me to
pray for his mother-in-law who has been ill for 8 years.

Then we visited another home where a "doctor" operates a clinic. We
discussed snake bite and scorpion sting. I explained to him how to apply
moto shock and charcoal. He was quite interested and willing to learn.

I was served another boule meal. This time the sauce was not quite as
long, but full of bones and fish meat. I opted for the rice part, which
was better than the first time.

At the end of the day, I relaxed back at the house by the clinic and
talked with the family there. The boy wants to be a pilot someday. I
told him he needed to know mathematics and physics and geography and
climate and other things to be a good pilot. We talked about praying
that God would direct him in his studies.

The girl came and knelt beside me and said, "Your bathing water is
ready." Before, they had asked me if I wanted warm water or not. I
assured them that I was used to cold water. I'm not that whimpy.

I'm ready for bed. But the last meal has yet to be served. They finally
realize that I am not a meat-eater. They give me a special platter of
white bread, mayonnaise, and a small tub of something off-white, hard,
crunchy, stringy, sort of sweet-tasting, sort-of-good-but-strange. The
writing is in Arabic I think, but it is so dark I can't tell for sure
what it is. I decide to put that on my bread rather than the mayonnaise.
The chemical content is probably less. I determined that the substance
was probably a sesame derivative.

We talk about diet. "You don't even eat fish?" they ask. "Nothing with
eyes," I reply. They all thought that was hilarious. Then out came the
salad, which contained tomatoes. I had to ask them if the slimy things
inside the tomato were eyes. "Ha ha ha ha." Funny.

Finally, I get a moto ride to where I will sleep. I am prepared to sleep
under the plane. But I get to sleep in a former missionary's house with
tin roof, mattress, mosquito net, and even an outhouse with a sit-down
toilet (gross)! Inside my own room, I sneak some homemade crackers,
dried fruit, and a couple biscuits Melody had packed for me to bring
along. I drift of to sleep.

RIP Ella

Ella has been sick for several weeks now. She is the baby "sister" of
Matt, one of our SMs. The baby was perhaps about a year old and has been
somewhat malnourished, and came down with malaria and other issues. She
was at the hospital for a long time until the doctor said, "There's
nothing more we can do. Just take her home." Soon thereafter, she died.

Pierre came to find me, but I was out working at the Nutrition Center.
When I came back, I heard the news. "Ella is dead." I finish up a few
things and head over to Pierre's house. Melody is still not well enough
to accompany me, so remains behind to rest.

Upon arrival, I see the usual groups of men and women wailing and
carrying on. The women are all surrounding the little body of Ella on a
big mat. I join Matthew and Pierre on another mat and say a few words. A
little later Ella's uncle returns from a trip to the market with a small
plastic bag. He kneels down in front of Ella and unfolds a white cloth
which which he covers her. Then he breaks down and weeps.

Several people dig a small hole. It is next to another tiny grave.

I go get Noel and we do a short funeral service. Pierre speaks a few words.

Then the wailing picks up again as the little body is carried just about
ten meters to the hole. They sprinkle some perfume on her, cover her
with a piece of a mat and fill the hole back in. The mound is rounded
and covered with bricks. Then they wash hands and pour the water over
the top of the new grave.

It all seems like a routine now. Another death. Another funeral. Another
person who escapes further suffering and hardship to await Jesus' soon
return in peace.

Some people morn and wail hopelessly as if this was the final time they
will see Ella. The depth of others seems to be more shallow - as if they
know that this is not the final end. There is hope and life beyond the
grave.

I can hardly wait for Jesus to return. I must be faithful to share Jesus
with as many people as possible.

Culture Disconnect

Before we begin our Bible study, I sometimes ask if anybody has a
question on their mind that they would like to study. We now have two
French concordances, so the people who come are learning how to use
those. Thursday evening somebody asked for Bible responses to three
questions:
1) Can I find eternal life after I have sinned and asked for forgiveness?
2) If I kill somebody accidentally (as in a moto accident), is that
something God can forgive?
3) If I kill somebody intentionally, is that something God can forgive?

So we looked up verses like:
1 John 1:9 "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive
us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."
Isaiah 55:7 "Let the wicked forsake his way, And the unrighteous man his
thoughts; Let him return to the Lord, And He will have mercy on him; And
to our God, For He will abundantly pardon."

God cleanses us from _all_ unrighteousness. He will _abundantly_ pardon.
And so on. The Bible is clear that God forgives sins - all sins that we
ask forgiveness for.

"But what about big sins? Can God forgive those?" somebody asked.

Sometimes we tend to judge the badness of a sin by it's immediate
consequence. When a person commits murder, he is thrown in jail and
fined. "Big sin." When a person tells a lie, it is not likely that he
will face any immediate consequence. "Little sin." But God defines sin
as the transgression of His law (1 John 3:4). That means in God's eyes,
sin is sin, "big" or "little."

We continued with our discussion. "Can God forgive intentional murder?"
I asked in an effort to test their understanding. "Yes." "No." "Yes."
There was a bit of disagreement. Jesus prayed for those who were killing
Him, "Forgive them, for they know not what they are doing." David prayed
for and found forgiveness even after intentional murder and adultery
combined.

Everybody agreed that yes, God can forgive all sins. So I give another
question to test their understanding: "Is there any sin that God can not
forgive?"

"Well, in our culture, it is a terrible thing to sleep with one of your
parents. That is so horrible that God cannot forgive you if you do that.
Also, if I plan to kill somebody and go out and kill him, that is
something too horrible for God to forgive."

I can hardly believe my ears. But here is somebody who knows clearly
what the Bible says, but chooses to believe his culture instead. For
many, even among churched people and pastors, culture is a higher
priority than God and His Word. I am continuing to better understand an
important key to the work here. Brain knowledge does a person zero good
without heart acceptance. People can know the truth and yet its power is
ineffective for change in their lives. "Yes, that's what the Bible says.
I agree with you. 100% BUT... my culture says..." It is no wonder with
this attitude why the majority of "Christians" here are only half committed.

How can I lead a person from brain knowledge to a deep-seated love of
the truth? Only through the work of the Holy Spirit is this possible.
Please pray for wisdom for me to know how to lead people to a true, deep
level of commitment. Pray for this work to take place in your heart and
in my heart. Are you committed to truth as it is in God's Word above
anything else, even above your culture?

Church tidbits

Last week we began the official process of purchasing land for the new
church in Bendele. We have been looking at a certain piece of land that
seems to be very well-placed, yet the price has been way too high.
Finally, the owner has came down to about 20% of the original price and
if the paperwork goes well, that land should become church land. We have
been praying for months about this, and we are excited to see progress.

Last Sabbath at Dabgue, a lady was walking down the road and happened to
hear us singing. Curiously, she came in and sat down. Afterward, she
told me that she believes that God brought her to hear a message from
Him and thanked me for sharing. My talk was on studying the Bible:
1) First, we recognize that Scripture is the source of truth. It is truth.
2) We ask the Holy Spirit to give us understanding. Since people wrote
Scripture under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, it makes since to
ask Him for help in understanding what we read.
3) We compare spiritual things with spiritual and build truth on a
foundation - not just on one verse.
4) Before we read, we commit to obedience to whatever God asks us to do.
Then, whether we find the change in our lives to be easy or hard, we
have already decided the path of happiness: complete surrender and
obedience.

In another village, Kasire PahKoulieng, a small minority group had a
meeting and decided that we were not welcome in their village. Yet, we
have been asked by others to be there and to continue sharing and
teaching. With prayer, we made an appointment to meet the village chief.
Upon arrival at his compound, we were given a seat on a palm log under
the mango tree. Many others gathered around to witness the outcome of
this meeting. As I explained our project and what we could bring to his
village, the old man seemed a bit gruff at first. But soon he smiled and
turned out to be a pleasant man. "The doors are open. You may come to
this village any time you want. And if you have any news or something to
share, please come by and visit me."

All around us people are hungry for truth. Often we face challenges, but
truth always moves forward with opposition because the devil knows his
time is short. Be courageous. Share your experience with Jesus with your
friends and neighbors. When you face difficulties, double your efforts,
knowing that even though our time is short, it is truth that triumphs in
the end.

Culture

Today my husband and I went to a funeral. Franco's brother died. After
going to the burial site we walked back to where everyone was gathered.
There were hundreds of people sitting on mats. The women and men don't
sit together. So I respectively went to sit with the women even though I
would have preferred sitting with my husband.

While sitting on the mat with the women I talked to Naomi. "Why wasn't
Franco a the burial place," I asked. "He is looking for a goat because
he has to feed all these people," she responded. She told me that
actually Franco was there but left right after they lowered the body
because he was in a hurry to find a goat. Franco and his wife have to
feed all these people. I looked around with amazement. Everyone here,
hundreds of people, are waiting to be feed, and that's the
responsibility of the dead person's family. Why? That is terrible. The
family is the one that is hurting the most yet they have to carry this
burden.

I also learned from my friend Bronwyn who lives with Franco's family
that last night the mother of the dead man was up and down throughout
the night. Visitors were coming and coming. The poor mom was so
exhausted that she eventually decided to just lay down on a mat to try
to get some sleep. But the people just kept coming, they would even go
over and shake her awake just so they could shake her hand.

Sometimes it is difficult for me to understanding some of the culture
here. I believe that some things about Chadian culture are good and some
things are bad. That is true about every culture. Today I think I saw
some bad culture. It is so sad to me to see what the family has to go
through when one of their loved ones dies. Not only do they go through
the heartache of loosing their loved one but they also, at the same
time, have to be hosts to hundreds of people. They don't have to feed
hundreds of people the day of the funeral only, but they have to feed
them 3 days!

Another Funeral

After walking down the sandy paths to find the older brother's house, we
find that the casket has already been carried away. The graveside
service was scheduled for ten o'clock in the morning. Although events
are nearly always late in African culture, this event was early. It is
not yet ten o'clock, yet the burial is already happening.

Today, Franco's 24-year-old brother Boaz is being buried. He was feeling
fine Sunday morning and attended church in Ndjamena where he was
attending school. Then he vomited and was dead within a couple of hours.
Hundreds of people have converged at the cemetery and the casket has
already been lowered into the hole. Several guys shovel dirt and pack it
down with the handles of the shovels.

I see my friend Aaron, one of the older brothers. He had come the day
before to ask if we had any scrap metal to make a grave marker. We
helped him cut and weld a little sign. Now Aaron puts it into the fresh
earth. We make eye contact. He motions for me to come talk with him
briefly. After the people leave, could I stay to sing a couple songs and
pray together?

The dirt is now arranged over the grave and the men call for a basin of
water. Two women carry it over and set it on top of the fresh mound of
dirt. The men splash the water around and wash their hands and feet, and
in so doing wet down the fresh mound of dirt.

Now a woman's choir arrives, each with a branch of leaves or seed pods
in her hand. These are the female relatives of Boaz. At the lead, a
woman carries a tall stick maybe 8 feet tall. Attached to the stick is
money they have donated to the family. This is their way of showing that
they love the family.

Most people leave, and there remains about 8 people. We clasp hands,
encircling the grave while Aaron leads out in a song. It was a typical
African song, simple melody, repetitive.

"One day he will be in Paradise
One day he will be in Paradise
There, he will be happy.
There, he will be healthy.
One day he will be in Paradise."

We sang this song several times. Then he said, "We will sing one song more."

"For our brother, it is finished.
For our brother, it is finished.
For my brother, it is finished.
For my Benjamin, it is finished.
For my Benjamin, it is finished.
One day, God will come for you.
But for my Benjamin, it is finished."

Families here often call the last-born their Benjamin. It is not his
real name, but a way to refer to the last child born. It was a touching
moment as he changed the words of the song from "our brother" to "my
brother" to "my Benjamin."

After a prayer in Nantchere and one in French, it was done and we
returned to the older brother's house.

There, I sit down on a tarp with a group of 50 or 60 men. Melody joins
the group of women. We sit and talk. Then we get up and leave. Back to
welding for now.

Scorpion

Months ago, scorpions used to share our house. We used to use a
flashlight any time we got up to get water or go to the bathroom. Melody
still does, but I have grown tired of using a flashlight and often just
feel my way along. I haven't seen a scorpion or centipede or snake on
the floor for months.

Last evening after dark I was thirsty and decided to get some water.
This time the Holy Spirit said, "You should grab the flashlight." I
thought, "I don't need a light; we don't have scorpions here anymore."
The thought came more strongly: "Jonathan, grab your light." So I
grabbed the light, and as I pulled up the mosquito net to put my feet on
the ground, I shown the light on the ground. There, right in the middle
of the floor, was a scorpion, stinger poised. I would have probably
stepped on it had I not used a light. Immediately I thanked God for
saving me from this little beast.

Listen for God's voice. Heed it. He is even interested in the "small"
things of your life.

An Open Door

For almost three years now we have been helping a mother with children
at a small village 10-12km south of here. Her husband is gone most of
the time and does not take care of his family. Wendy Roberts has been
the primary one to take interest in this family, because one of the
children in particular was severely malnourished. Over the years, he has
grown more healthy because of Wendy's work.

Recently, we have started weekly visits at her house and around 50
neighborhood children gather around to hear Bible stories and to sing
songs. Normally we go after Dabgue church, as her village is only about
3km further down the road. Last week, however, a message was sent to
inform us that we were not welcome at her place any more and that she
did not want us to come. "Is this message true?" we wondered together
after the church service was finished. "She didn't seem hostile at all
last week when we were there," we remembered.

The decision was made for just Frederick and I to go down that week and
check things out. When we talked to the woman, she expressed her
concerns. Other people were spreading gossip about her and giving her
trouble and she became scared. The chief of the village said, "You have
foreigners at your place each week. If trouble happens, you are
responsible. They have not come and talked to me yet."

So we happily agreed to return and visit with the chief. Any time a
foreigner enters a village to do something more than pass through, it is
customary to announce his presence and intentions to the chief. This we
had neglected to do.

We brought the matter before God in prayer, asking that His will be done
in all of this. These troubles are only complications from the Devil to
distract and disrupt the work. We sensed that God was still in control
and were not concerned.

After finding the chief not at his home Thursday, Frederick and I
finally arrived at his compound to talk with him Friday morning
(yesterday). The chief seems to be a kind man and welcomed us warmly. As
I explained our mission to him in French, Frederick translated into
Nantchere. The end result was his thanking us and saying, "Any time the
Word of God comes to this village, I will not hinder it. You have an
open door. There are people in this village who are unhappy that you are
here. But others are happy. We do not force people. If they want to
worship the trees, they can worship the trees. But if people want to
come, maybe I can help arrange a place for a church someday. For now,
you may meet there under that big tree." Before leaving, we thanked the
chief and invited him to visit our meetings sometimes.

Praise God!

Today, swarms of children enthusiastically followed our moto as we drove
into the village. More adults came than usual. Even the chief's wife
came and listened to the story and singing.

At the end of the service, a man by the name of Joseph approached me. He
would like to attend our church. Normally he is busy teaching elementary
school Sabbath morning, but he wants to rearrange his schedule so that
he can worship with us. He also wants to help with anything he can to
set up a church. If we need help transporting benches, he can help. His
brother wants to come. "You are teaching things that no other church
here teaches, and I want to learn more!" he said.

The chief's wife has been sick for 8 years and came to ask us for help.
We pray that we will know what to do, but we do not know a solution at
this time.

A cripple boy asked us to fix his crutches. He has outgrown his crutches
and they are too short for him. We told him that we would try to get him
some more wood to fix his crutches.

Please pray for this new outreach project. We have more open doors than
we know what to do with. We desperately need more workers. The work is
great, yet we do not know how long we have. Let us work quickly in times
of relative peace and ease!

The Nightjar

I was showing one of my masons my bird book for Africa, and several of
the birds that I had recently identified. We looked at shrikes and
herons and ducks and other birds, and he recognized a number of them.
When I flipped to the page of Nightjars, I commented that I often see
these sleeping on the runway at night. These birds like to fly around at
dusk. During mating season, the males fly around with a long streamer
off of the trailing edge of both wings. We identify them by silhouette
usually.

He replied, "Ahhh, those birds are very dangerous. My parents taught us
that we must be very careful about these birds. It's the problem of
their eggs. If a horse steps on the eggs, the mother bird will return
and see horse prints. That is no problem. But if the mother bird sees a
human footprint, and if it was that person who broke the eggs, the
mother bird will come for revenge. She will bite the children in your
family and they will all die. That's what our parents taught us."

Sand Viper Inches from my Foot!!!!

I am so thankful to God this evening. With a sigh of relief I walked
safely into our hut.

As my husband and I walk home from our walk this evening we are talking
and enjoying out time together. Nearing home, suddenly I hear the sound
of hissing in the grass right next to my foot. "Sand Viper!" My minds
quickly reacts and I run away barely escaping my closest encounter of
getting bit by a very deadly snake. Whirling around I shine my
flashlight on the snake. Jonathan, my man quickly gets a brick and kills
it.

We have seen many of these sand vipers before and this evening we have
decided from now on to exercise even more caution. We are going to stick
to the bigger roads from now on.

Praise God for His protection yet again!

Aaron needs prayer

Please pray for Aaron. He is feeling very discouraged. Since acquiring
his degree in 2006, he has been trying to pass the test to become a
government teacher. Each time he tries, he fails the test. Recently he
attempted this examination for the tenth time. He thought the test was
easy and that he did well. But he failed. Again. For the tenth time.

This year is also a tough year for everybody because of the drought.
Fields that normally produced 50 sacks of rice produced 7. Somebody
else's field which normally produces 25 produced 3 1/2 this year.

Now Aaron says that everything in his life has been a failure and that
going to church and coming to Bible study is not helping him. He wants
to give up on everything spiritual.

If he gives up on God, what else is there left? I asked him this
question and he responded, "There's nothing more."

Please pray for him that he will someday give his life to God and
understand that God knows the big picture.

Jonathan and Melody

Health Talks

I'm working on making printable health talks. This is a lot of work but
very needed because I need something to teach with during the day. Power
point health talks (which already exist) have to be used at night. I'm
so excited about having these health talks to use for the mobile clinics
some day! I'm trying to do my best to prepare to work as a nurse in
these primitive areas. I have so much to learn so I've decided to start
working at the hospital at least once a week.

Melody

Dust Devil

A dust devil just stormed through our property. One of our volunteers
and a welder were up on the roof. I heard a shout of delight, from them
enjoying the wind. Then there was the sound of something falling. Then
something else. Then "bump, bump, bonk, thump, clank...." I was in the
house, but rushing out, Melody and I saw a swirl of dust flinging grass
mats and 15-foot planks around. Thankfully nobody was hurt, but it was a
sight to see.