Eunice Chidenga - A Story of Injustice

Eunice Chidenga was once a normal happy Zambian woman. She was married and had 6 wonderful children and a loving husband. Then her husband died in February 2010 at the young age of 39, and her nightmare began. Eunice lived in Siambani village in the Gwembe Valley of Zambia an area that is still extremely traditional and notorious for witch craft. As the custom goes after her husband died she was inherited by a relative of her husband.

There are many reasons good and bad for why a relative might inherit a wife. The good side is it is meant to make sure that a widow is cared for. Like Boaz being a kinsmen redeemer for Naomi it gives women the chance to keep family land. The bad reasons are numerous. For one thing there is a belief that your husband's ghost will haunt you if you are not "cleansed" (essentially raped) by one of your husband's male relatives. Another bad thing is the widow is often given no choice when she is inherited. What it often comes down to is that when there is poverty adding an additional wife with children who are not your own will most likely lead to abuse and neglect.

The man who inherited Eunice works on a kapenta boat meaning every night except during the full moon he is out on the boat. When he goes on land it's for 2 things, booze and sex, which consequently waste all of the money his family needs to survive. He would regularly arrive home and find no food because he hadn't given the family any money, so he would beat Eunice and some times the children blaming them for his money problems. Eunice's children are the sweetest kids anyone could ever hope for. They started calling their step father "Batata" a respectful word for Dad. He yelled at them screaming "Don't call me father. You have no father. Your father is dead, and I will never be a father to you!" Two of Eunice's children were teenagers, but of the youngest 2 were boys and 2 were girls. The step father didn't treat the girls too badly. He refused to allow them to go to school and used them for hauling water, washing clothes, and cooking food. He hated the boys. He refused to allow them to eat from his food, go to school, or pay for them to get medical treatment. Eunice started selling fritters and using the money she made to keep her children alive, but the money was never enough.

When I met Eunice and her 4 youngest kids Lasteria, Mashombe, Fleza, and Meter my heart was broken. Fleza and Mashombe were skin and bones. They came to my house in the morning and I saw the children shivering from the cold since they had neither long pants nor sweatshirts. Eunice bore scares of witchcraft on her chest and explained her husband had tried to kill her. She told me with tears in her eyes that she wanted me to take her children at the orphanage. She said she was going to leave the man who had inherited her, but she wouldn't be able to feed her children.

Helping people is more difficult than it seems. If I take in children who have a mother at the orphanage I'll be in hot water with Social Welfare, and I could jeopardize my project. Not only that, but I'm setting a precedent and will soon have dozens of mother's on my doorstep demanding that I also take their children and accusing me of favoritism. I could easily lose the respect of the community which could lead to the collapse of my whole project. Furthermore as amazing as I believe the orphanage is, I also believe if a child's mom is alive they'll usually be better off with her. I don't want to encourage people to abdicate their responsibility to care for their children or their relative's children. For even more reasons than I can put here I knew there was no way I could take in her children at my orphanage. I also knew that I had to help Eunice.

So I got her kids sweatshirts to help with the cold. The kids came by every day and Fleza and Meter would fight over who got to help me pump water for the garden. They won me over with their desire to help out in any way they could. Eunice moved to her parent's village about 4 kilometers away with her children. The man who inherited her didn't care at all. We decided to help her with food while she tries to get on her feet. Eunice loves her kids so much and is happy to have them with her and the kids love being around their grandparents who love them so much.

heaven to earth, to fight for justice, and fight to end suffering, so I've tried. What I know is that Eunice and the children's lives are no longer in danger, they are no longer cold, and they are no longer hungry. Please pray for Eunice and her children as they try to get back on their feet.

 This is a picture of Eunice receiving soem food after she moved to her parents place. She is pictured on the left with her daughter Lasteria on her left and Meter on her right. She is holding Trison her son from the man who inherited her. Her sister is sitting on her right.

 This is a picture of Fleza and Mashombe the first day I met them. I can say they are all smiles now.

School of Dreams

We named the orphan sponsorship program in Congo "Masomo ya Ndoto" the School of Dreams because orphaned children would tell me their hopes and dreams and then explain that it would never happen because they weren't able to go to school. Many African nations have found ways to provide free primary school education within the past fifteen years. In Congo nothing is free and it's the poor who suffer from it. Orphans are usually the poorest of the poor and ranked at the very bottom of whatever family member happens to take them in. In a world where people are choosing to either put food on the table or pay school fees, no one is paying school fees.

When I lived in Congo I had a desire to help orphans. I was working in an area of Likasi called Shituru and through a series of events found about 100 orphaned children. I was living without electricity or running water and had no means to help all those kids. I remembered the story of Peter and John meeting the lame man at the gate saying they had no money to give but they would give what they had- the gospel. I started a weekly program where the orphans could come and hear the word of God. I used to have the kids memorize scripture and summarize stories. One day five year old Jean Paul explained the story of Elijah and the Ravens like this "God loved Elijah and he saw his hunger so he sent some birds to bring him food. I know that God loves me too and sees me when I am hungry and now I know he will somehow bring me food too."

I bonded with these kids week after week and prayed for some way to do something more tangible to help them. I talked with their guardians and asked what was the one thing they needed help with the most. They almost all answered school fees. I did the calculations and it seemed nearly impossible to raise enough money for all of the kids. I started aiming to just start with grade 1 and then hopefully add from there. School starts in September and by June I had nearly given up. Then in July I had a meeting with some friends who run a Christian school. They said they heard about the orphans and also wanted to help. They told me they would allow the kids to go there at half the normal price and consider the loss they would incur their Christian contribution to the orphans. I still didn't have enough money but all of a sudden it felt doable. That week someone gave me $2000 and before September the project was fully funded and has been ever since.

It is a Christian school and the person I trained in Children's ministry still does the chapel services every Friday. While I was last there I got to do them myself. It was so much fun to see the same kids so excited about the things of God. They came up to me one by one expressing their gratitude for the opportunity to receive an education. Their teachers all sang their praises and explained how much more seriously the orphaned children are about school than their peers.

Being able to visit them was such a blessing to me. I am so thankful to everyone who has given towards the project! The story is such a good reminder to me about how when we step out in faith and give what we can, God will make a way even when it seemed impossible!

Public Transportation

After years of living in Africa without a car I've mastered the local forms of public transportation. We have nice comfortable coach buses for long distances, but also crammed buses with chickens, luggage, and people everywhere.  Minibuses cram between 19 and 30 people into a 15 passenger van and tend to have the most aggressive and frightening drivers.

To travel short distances on a main road hitchhiking is your best bet. Although minibuses will take you they are not always there when you need them. Hitchhiking in Zambia is completely safe and normal. Everyone knows the rates minibuses charge to go places and ask hitchhikers to pay the same amount to offset their fuel costs.

In Zambia for going into the rural areas we use lorries or 3 ton flat bed trucks. Going into the bush is always crowded and uncomfortable. The tricky part is you are actually sitting above the sides of the truck a lot of the time and as the roads are terrible you are bouncing around and leaning quite a bit. It's easy to fall off.

In Congo just about the only way to get places in the bush is with a motorcycle taxi. Congo is filled with laterite clinging dust so after every ride we look like a new race of orange people. With bugs flying into your face and dust obstructing your vision it's not terribly pleasant, but it sure beats walking.

There are obvious downsides of public transportation, but somehow I've come to genuinely enjoy it. I love meeting random people along the way to where I'm going. There is a true sense of community in the back of those lorries. I enjoy eaves dropping on conversations about politics, education, and life in general. I love the freedom of being able to go places without having a vehicle. I take pleasure in being able to read while I'm traveling and not having to drive. It's also usually cheaper which is always nice.

The Tragedies of Child Birth

Yesterday I saw a friend while I was in town buying supplies for the orphanage. She lives only a few kilometers from our orphanage in the bush. She has such a big personality and speaks good English so we've become friends. I saw her in town decked out in her best clothes. She was grinning from ear to ear and almost skipped as she walked. She greeted me and asked about my family all the while bursting with excitement to tell me her news. "My daughter has given birth today... and it's twins!" She went on and on about how beautiful the girls are and how much they look like her family and how proud she was of her daughter. Neither she nor her daughter had had any idea her daughter was carrying twins so it was a surprise. We didn't talk for too long because she was off to buy more supplies for the unexpected second baby. Before we parted ways she told me they were naming the girls Linda and Sheri after me and my mom.

Then today when she came by my house I thought she just wanted to invite me to go to the hospital to meet the girls. Then I saw the distress all over her face. As I put out my hand for the general greeting of a handshake she grabbed me and forced me into a hug which is very unusual in Zambian culture. Then I felt her tears on my shoulder as she said the words "My daughter has died." I held her in an embrace as she recounted the story. Her daughter began to bleed and the doctors couldn't control it. They can't perform surgery in Kalomo so they arranged to transport her to Choma Hospital about an hour's drive away. By the time they arrived in Choma it was too late and her daughter died.

Child birth should be such a joyous occasion, but far too often it ends in tragedy. I've seen so many mothers die because of pregnancy and child birth not to mention how many of the babies have died too. I read Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn's Half the Sky and it explains that so little is being done to improve maternal health because it is not cost effective. For the same amount of money you could provide malaria medicine and other medical assistance that saves far more lives so money simply isn't being invested into maternal health. As the book goes on to say even though it may not be cost effective we should do it anyway because it is the right thing to do.

One of my sisters had complications with her delivery and needed a C section. Because she was in America it was pretty simple. Mother and baby were in distress, the doctors recognized the signs and took her in for an emergency c section, and my sister and her baby are fine. Had my sister been a village lady in Mapampi she wouldn't be alive today and neither would my nephew or my niece. It's not fair that my friends here in Zambia die of complications that are so easily treatable in the western world.

I know there is no simple solution to the problems of maternal health. I do want to see less money being spent on mosquito nets that end up being used for fishing instead of to prevent malaria which most people don't even die of these days, and more money being invested into maternal health. I am so happy that I have a few friends who are midwives with the desire to work with women in rural areas to improve maternal health. I'm so happy to know people who are contributing to solutions to this problem.

Fairford Farm

Last Sunday my church decided to take church to a new location- Fairford Farm. It's a neighboring farm to Chabwino Farm where our church is located. So people walked as far as 8 kilometers to reach this new location and meet with strangers there.

It's rainy season here in Zambia. This year we've gotten more rain than usual and this past week has been one of the rainiest I've seen in my 20 years here in Zambia. Rainy season means growing season for Zambians in the rural areas. Even the employees on large farms keep a small field of maize during the rains in addition to their regular jobs. For example Pastor Muchinga is the head butcher at Chabwino farm, but he along with his wife and children have a one acre maize field. Employees working for large farms work 6 days a week making Sunday their only day off and in rainy season they have to use that day to care for their fields.

I had never been to Fairford Farm before Sunday. All I knew about it was that there were no churches on the farm and ours was the closest being only about 3 kilometers away. We pulled up to find a large area of dirt that had been swept clean of all leaves, sticks, etc by Pastor Kaomba who had arrived early to get things ready. The entire pastoral staff including myself had been fasting and praying for this meeting and hoping not to be rained out as the dark clouds lurked above us. As we began singing the people began to trickle in. They kept coming until we numbered more than one hundred people.

As the service began so did the rains. Thankfully it wasn't hard rains just a steady constant drizzle but enough to make you wet and cold. I looked out at all the people sitting on the dirt ground and wondered if they would retreat to their homes to avoid the rain. To my amazement the people refused to leave. They found umbrellas and huddled together to try to avoid getting soaked, but no one left. I could see how hungry they were for the things of God in their eyes. It was obvious how much they were enjoying the opportunity to worship together.

After the service was over people came up to us one by one and thanked us profusely for coming and giving them the opportunity to go to church. They begged us to not forget about them. Their words hit me straight in the heart. There are so many places in rural Africa were there are no churches. I was amazed by their excitement and hunger for church as it should be. Not a building, we were after all meeting outside in the rain, but a community of people who can worship and grow together while supporting one another.

As soon as we started off in the vehicle to return home it began to down pour. If the downpour had come earlier I doubt anyone would have even been able to hear what was going on even if they had decided to stay. God's grace, faithfulness, and timing are more wonderful than words can describe.

We've invited everyone at Fairford Farm to take the walk and meet at our church on Sunday mornings. It will be a sacrifice for any who choose to do so since it will be giving up half of their only day off when their fields are crying out for cultivation, but I know many will make that sacrifice because they understand the parable of the pearl of great price.

The Meaning of Christmas

I was asked to speak at a friend's church about the meaning of Christmas. I've been thinking a lot about it and what would be a good sermon. Christmas is so rich with meaning, beauty, glory, and power. After much thought I decided that at least for this year the meaning of Christmas is sacrifice.

Jesus sacrificed everything to save us, to show us the way, and to destroy the works of the devil. Because he gave up everything we gained everything. The magi sacrificed to travel from the east to see a baby they somehow new would change the world. And they gave that baby gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Why did they give the baby they believed would save the world something used for burial? They must have known and grasped that Jesus would be a suffering servant. He would save us by sacrificing his own life.

When we think about giving things up or sacrificing it tends to leave a bad feeling in our gut. But we're told Jesus endured the cross for the joy set before him. The story of Christmas is a celebration. The kingdom of God is so radical because it teaches us to put ourselves at the bottom. The way of the kingdom is to consider others more important than yourself. What if we stopped working so hard to build our own lives constantly defending ourselves, talking about ourselves, spending our money on ourselves, spending our time on ourselves, and started working hard to build up others and not only our friends but even the undeserving. After all can any of us say we are deserving of Christ's sacrifice? What if our attitude was one of sacrifice, one of willingness to give everything for those around us for the sake of God's Kingdom?

Perhaps you've sacrificed in the past and it left you miserable. Perhaps you want to sacrifice because you feel guilty or because you want to win points with God. Those reasons have nothing to do with the Christmas message. What we need is transformation, and our only motivation should be love. God wants to change us so that sacrificing for others is a joy. So this Christmas I'm remembering that the way up is down, that giving is so much better than receiving, and that it's not about me and my rights. It's all about Jesus.

Only by God's Grace

I've known Kelvin and Azuriah Siabukandu for over 5 years now. I can't tell you how many things they have taught me and how much they have encouraged and inspired my relationship with God. One of the biggest lessons I've been learning from them now is humility. Kelvin is an uneducated man from the bush who had no interest in God or church. Somehow over the past 7 years God has completely transformed his life. He can now speak English, is a shop owner, and a pastor. When he opened his shop he named it "Choolwe" (Lucky). I was surprised he hadn't selected a Bible verse or a family name or something less common. He explained to me that he had selected the name because there was no good reason why he, an uneducated man from the rural area, could be a shop owner. "I'm telling you it can only be by the grace of God."

Grace is something I've been contemplating a lot lately. Some times it's easy to think that I've gotten where I am by pulling myself up by my own bootstraps. I work hard therefore I see good results. I'm a Christian striving to follow God and have been consistently from childhood because I'm intelligent, I work at it, or maybe I just have more faith than others. But it hit me that kind of thinking is completely void of grace.

Kelvin could have said he had worked really hard to learn English and that had helped him get ahead. He could have said he started reading books and trying to educate himself. He could have said he did his research from other shop owners to learn how to do the job. He could have said he managed his money wisely and scrupulously saved every penny to afford to open a shop. He could have said he just had more faith than other people and read the Bible and prayed more or that he had a better grasp on spiritual truths. But instead he proudly proclaims to anyone who will listen that he's just a nobody who got lucky. Of course Kelvin is always quick to couple his explanation with how everything good in his life is only by the grace of God.

So I started to think about what happens when we attribute all of our successes to our own goodness and ability. We become judgmental and proud. But people like Kelvin have an unshakable confidence and a deep seated humility, because their confidence comes from Christ not from within.

I'm not really a Calvinist, but in this area I think Calvinistic theology may be a bit more on point with my experience. If God hadn't called me how would I have become a Christian? If the Holy Spirit hadn't worked in my life how would I be striving to follow Christ? If God hadn't given me revelation and strength how would I have not stumbled or fallen away from God at some point? If God wasn't leading my life and blessing me with gifts and abilities how would I be intelligent, or gifted, or successful in any way? Apart from Christ I truly am nothing, but with Him I am everything! If I truly view every good thing in my life as something I haven't earned but just a blessing from God because of his unmerited grace how can I ever be prideful? How can I look down on anyone unless I feel superior to them and how can I feel superior to them unless I forget that anything that may make me seem superior is unmerited on my part, just a free gift, just me getting lucky? I thank God for His grace and pray that others may experience it too.

Just Another Day at Church

I grasp my hands together tighter as I desperately try to keep the flailing woman somewhat still and upright as she forcefully attempts to knock herself, me, and several others down on the dirt floor of the small church in Chabwino (a chinyanja word meaning "it is good"). She's probably around my age, but much smaller. At that moment she seemed to have the strength of 10 people though. Luckily she was more interested in taunting us than escaping. And by "she" I don't actually mean the woman who is named Prisca, I mean the demonic spirits who have taken over her body.

Demon possession and exorcism may seem more like topics for horror movies to many Americans, but having grown up in Africa demons manifesting in church seem as normal to me as flowers blooming in spring. Prisca isn't a member of our small church in Chabwino. A friend had convinced her to come since we had a special guest worship leader, Keswel Malimba, who thanks to Namwianga radio has become popular in the area. We had a powerful service and the pastor invited those with special needs to come forward for prayer. Prisca along with dozens of others came forward. She knew she was possessed and came forward to ask for deliverance. As soon as Keswel started praying for her I guess in a sense literally "all hell broke lose."

Because dealing with demon possession in a Bible believing African church becomes so routine we have it down to a science. Our faithful members spring into action to help. If it's a woman she probably has a baby tied to her back who needs to be removed and cared for first of all. Sound easy enough but when the woman has supernatural strength and is flailing around it takes a few people. We need the men for their strength. You would never believe how strong these people get unless you've experienced it. We need the women because of the modesty issues. Women tie chitenge material at the bottom of the woman's skirt to try to keep it from riding up. They also wrap chitenge material around the woman's waist to keep her stomach from being exposed. Woman push down the woman's knees and thighs to keep her from hurting herself or others and also to keep her from getting away. Men hold the woman by her arms desperately trying to keep her somewhat still.

By the end of it I sat down with Prisca who was visibly shaken by the experience. I asked her in my broken Tonga about her life. She thanked me for casting out the demons and asked if I'd be in prayer for her family. She told me she was going to become our member and be in church every Sunday and that she wanted me to pray that her husband would agree to start coming with her. She thanked me, we shared some chibwantu (a genius drink made from water, maize porridge, and a root called munkoyo), and then she went home.

There were over a hundred people in our tiny little church on Sunday. Our church 6 months ago had 20 people on a good Sunday. It's been so encouraging to be a part of it. I also thank God that although we still deal with plenty of demon possessed people they are nearly always visitors and not our members. I think we are doing something right and the people are learning a life given completely to Jesus is the best way to live.

Rain

Although I lived in Maryland when I was very young, I have mainly lived in Zambia, Kenya, Oklahoma, Texas, and Congo. Where I lived in Zambia is on the border of being a drought area. Most of my friends and neighbors were farmers so we always prayed for rain and thanked God each time it fell. Somehow the beautiful afternoon showers that cooled down the weather always left you wanting a bit more. I then moved to Kenya when it was going through a period of drought. We rejoiced when we would get randomly soaked through and through because the rain was such a blessing. Then I moved to Oklahoma and Texas while they were experiencing drought. The rain seemed to rarely make an appearance and whenever it did I was always grateful. Of course I could have done without the snow.

But now I live in Congo when the rain shows up far too often and seems to accomplish nothing. By the time August comes around there is so much dust everywhere it’s almost unbelievable. Having spent nearly all of my life on the African continent I’ve become well accustomed to dirt and dust, but Congo dirt is special. Somehow there is just more of it and it sticks and clings to you unrelentingly no matter how hard you scrub. I’ve literally walked in dust over a foot deep here. So when September rolls around and we get a few rain showers it’s beautiful. It cools things down, gets rid of the dust, and miraculously turns brown into green nearly everywhere.

October is fine, but there is always a point in November when the rain becomes annoying. Now is that point. It starts to rain through the night and nearly every afternoon. The temperature never seems to get higher than 75 (which over here is winter weather!). We have crazy lightning storms that hit mostly trees but occasionally people. Mud is everywhere! The roads become impassible (even the main highways since they aren’t paved) without 4 wheel drive and even then people are getting stuck everywhere you look.

Then when you don’t think it could get any worse December comes along. It starts to rain some mornings as well as every afternoon and most nights. Usually January seems to be the worst but some times it carries into February. It rains all morning, all afternoon, and all night. We literally had 3 weeks of straight rain last year.

Almost no one in this area is a farmer. Nearly everyone does mining. The rains causes hand dug artisanal pits to collapse killing lots of people. The rains drive up the mining companies’ expenses because the roads cannot transport the minerals they are producing, dilutes acid used for producing hydroxides, and prevents machinery from running safely. People can’t get their clothes dry on a clothes line. Mosquitoes are breading in every nearby puddle taunting us all with their malaria and dengue fever carrying potential. Cholera and typhoid fever break out all over the place due to the water run off spreading sewage. Because people are inside more to avoid the rain colds and the flu spread like wild fire. Satellite internet goes out due to the storms. Our jobs come to a stand still, everyone looses money, people are unhealthy, and it’s just plain miserable.

My wise friend, Albert, a Congolese businessperson, informed me “We have only 2 seasons in Congo, the dust season and the mud season. I don’t know which is worse.” So for the first time in my life I’m hoping the rain will go away! March cannot come soon enough!

Hospital

On Monday I started to feel sick after lunch. I figured it was nothing. Sadly, the pain became worse and worse and I couldn’t sleep at all. It hurt to stand, to sit, but even worse to lie down. I had fever and chills and the worst pain in my abdomen. Finally at 2pm I couldn’t take it any longer so I got our on site doctor. I had to walk about 300 yards to our clinic and I barely made it. It hurt to breath and much worse to walk. The doctor thought it was appendicitis. He gave me a shot that did absolutely nothing for me. The pain just kept getting worse. Finally when my boss woke up I told him I had to go to a hospital. At 9am we left.

It’s rainy season and the main highways here are dirt roads so that means the roads are in terrible condition right now. Every bump was excruciatingly painful. I was wincing and grimacing like I never had before. Then the car broke down for no apparent reason. We were stuck in the middle of nowhere with no plan for what to do. Luckily, not 10 minutes after we broke down an expat friend of mine was driving past and offered to take me to the hospital. I endured more terrible bumps and slipping and sliding in the mud until we finally reached the hospital.

I went to Mumi Hospital which is run by Glencore, a Swiss company that is the world’s largest mineral trading company. It was supposed to be the best in the area and happened to be the closest as well. I filled out the paper work and then started answering questions in Swahili. The problem is when you’re learning a language if you’ve never been in a situation before you won’t have the vocabulary to deal with it. It was so frustrating trying to communicate what I was feeling in Swahili. All I could say was “My stomach really hurts!”

They ran some tests and concluded I had an infection that had caused the inflammation of my abdomen muscle. They started treating me with antibiotics and anti inflammatory drugs. They wanted to keep me for 4 days until I had finished the meds they needed to inject into my veins. Since we have an on site doctor I convinced them to release me into his care.

So the next day I went back to the mine feeling better. I woke up on Thursday morning with pain in my back. I hoped it would go away but it just got worse and worse. The pain continued to be terrible until Saturday. From them on I’ve felt human again. I am so happy to be feeling better!

I’ve had a lot of strange, scary, stressful experiences in Congo, but I think this one takes the cake. It’s horrible to be alone when you’re sick. It’s horrible to be in a third world country when you’re sick. It’s horrible to deal with health care in a foreign language. The worse part was just not knowing what was wrong or how serious it actually was. I am so grateful for all of my friends who prayed for me. I know God healed me from whatever it was that I had. Thank you all and thank you Jesus!

Rock of Ages Part 2

Nothing in my hand I bring,

simply to the cross I cling;

naked, come to thee for dress;

helpless, look to thee for grace;

foul, I to the fountain fly;

wash me, Savior, or I die.

Nothing in my hand I bring reminded me of something I was taught while at college. I was taught the concept of “receipting” and no I’m not making it up. Apparently if you want God to heal you or bless you or give you more money you need to do good things like tithe, pray, read your Bible, help the old lady across the street, etc. After you do a good deed you need to write it down. Then when you pray you can show God your “receipt” and tell Him He has to bless you since you did good things. In case you didn’t catch that it’s called salvation through works and probably more resembles the idea of karma than anything Christianity teaches. But what makes Christianity so beautiful is grace. Jesus didn’t heal people because they deserved it! Jesus healed people because he had mercy on them and because they had the faith to receive it. Jesus didn’t die on the cross because we deserved it! There is nothing in my hand I bring but simply to the cross I cling! It would be like if someone brought filthy rags to pay for gold! I don’t come to God with anything in my hand or with any need to remind God of my righteousness. I come clinging to the cross. I come hidden with God in Christ.

Naked come to thee for dress will always make me think of the letter to the church in Laodicea from Revelation 3. “You say, 'I am rich and well off; I have all I need.' But you do not know how miserable and pitiful you are! You are poor, naked, and blind.” God is saying to all people regardless of your material wealth you can still be poor, naked, and blind spiritually. “I advise you, then, to buy gold from me, pure gold, in order to be rich. Buy also white clothing to dress yourself and cover up your shameful nakedness. Buy also some ointment to put on your eyes, so that you may see.” Only God can provide the solution to these spiritual problems.

Helpless look to thee for grace makes me think of Romans 7. Paul says “For even though the desire to do good is in me, I am not able to do it.” We must all recognize how hopelessly lost we are without God, the sacrifice of Jesus, and the power of the Holy Spirit. The church has taught us to be people of discipline. We are told to use will power and discipline to prevent ourselves from sinning. We will do better, but we will never succeed. The only hope we have is that the Holy Spirit will transform our hearts so we can desire the right things. By ourselves we are helpless but with the grace of God nothing is impossible.

Foul… how often have you thought of yourself as foul? You know people say when you’re drunk you’re always the last person to realize it. I don’t know how many conversations I’ve had with intoxicated people who swore they were sober. There are so many people Christian and non Christian who swear they’re righteous but none are righteous no not one. We need a wake up call to see ourselves as we are- foul. And only after we see just how disgusting we actually are we will “fly” or go without hesitation as quickly as possible to the fountain of God. When we see our sin as disgusting we will run from it and allow Christ to save us from it. My favorite line of the song is “Wash me Savior or I die.” We far too often think “I’m a good person.” “God’s lucky to have me.” But the truth is no matter how evil or how good you consider yourself unless you’re washed in the blood of the lamb you will die spiritually in hell the second death. And consequently if we have seen how fowl we actually are we will no longer be able to judge the horrible sinners out there. We would accept what the Bible teaches us in Romans 2 that we are just as bad as those we are judging with disgust. If we could only be people who recognize apart from Christ we are foul we could lose our reputation as judgmental people and be seen as people of love as Christ foresaw.

While I draw this fleeting breath,

when mine eyes shall close in death,

when I soar to worlds unknown,

see thee on thy judgment throne,

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

let me hide myself in thee.

The Bible is clear that all people will be judged after death. Again we see the same theme of this hymn. On that judgment day I do not come with my own list of good deeds. I do not come saying “you can’t accuse me devil because Jesus forgave me.” On that day I’ll have nothing to say and nothing to offer God. All I will be able to do is look to Jesus and ask if I can hide myself in him. Only by the grace of God through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ my Lord will I be saved from sin and hell.

Rock of Ages Part 1

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
let me hide myself in thee;
let the water and the blood,
from thy wounded side which flowed,
be of sin the double cure;
save from wrath and make me pure.

The first point I noticed was the idea of salvation through grace and not by works. Somehow now a days some Christians seem to have an almost Pelagian view of salvation. Of course if asked we’ll all say “grace through faith.” But then we go around saying “maybe I’ll go to hell if I don’t repent before I apologize for some unconscious sin of omission.” Or we say “they’re not good enough to enter heaven, ‘you’ll know a tree by it’s fruit’” Some even get angry when someone on their death bed gets saved without having lived all 80 years as a Christians. I wonder if we’ve actually grasped the reality that it’s only by grace. All I can hope for is to hide myself in Jesus and have his righteousness save me! My righteousness is as filthy rags!

The next thing I noticed is “let me”. It’s not I will it’s let me. Again the idea of respect and realizing I don’t deserve it but by God’s mercy I might be allowed to hide myself in His son.

The third things that struck me was the “double cure.” The blood and water which is to say the atonement and the spirit heals us in 2 ways. First, it saves us from wrath or hell. Our salvation is made possible by the death of Jesus Christ on the cross. But the second thing is we are made pure. Throughout history the gospel has been presented as “fire insurance” or a ticket out of hell into heaven. We’ve all heard someone say “I’ll get saved on my death bed.” But somehow people don’t realize that it’s a double cure first from the wrath of God and secondly from sin itself. If you think you have salvation without purity or personal holiness you’ve missed it. It’s a pill that heals your head ache and stops your runny nose. You can’t have one without the other. And furthermore the salvation experience we can receive by grace through faith because of Christ’s sacrifice is a cure not a curse, freedom not slavery, a key not a lock. God loves us and wants to save us, help us, and set us free from every chain that binds us. He makes us pure to save us from what is killing us- sin. Just as much as we come to God to save us from hell we must desire he save us from sin.

Not the labors of my hands
can fulfill thy law's commands;
could my zeal no respite know,
could my tears forever flow,
all for sin could not atone;
thou must save, and thou alone.

I have Jewish friends who work so hard to keep the law but fail continually. They eat kosher, respect Shabbat, never even so much as turn on a light bulb on the Sabbath, honor every holiday, go to temple, fast on Yom Kippor, and so many other things. They’re always telling me “it’s so easy to be a Christian.” At first I was a little taken aback by that statement but then I realized that’s right it’s so easy to be a Christian! Christ died to make it so easy. What I can do myself could NEVER be enough. I’m one of those people who found Jesus very young and never had a rebellious phase. I really haven’t done anything on the big list of no no’s for Christians, but I’ve sinned and without Jesus I’m just as lost as the mass murderer. Tim Keller, my favorite preacher, often says if every word you said was recorded and God judged you simply upon what you actually said at some point in your life was right and wrong you still wouldn’t live up. Even if I am the most “of fire” Christian in the world and dedicate every moment of my life to the Kingdom of God it could never be enough to make up for my sin. Even if I was repentant and cried all day and all night in sorrow for my short comings it could not save me. Only by the grace of God. Only by the blood of Jesus can I be saved.

Hymns

I have a deep love and appreciation for hymns. I was raised in the modern worship music age back when the cool churches were rocking it with “He has made me glad.” Then I moved to Africa where we rocked it with “takwaba” but also “Yama, yama” (What a Fellowship”) and before long I knew far more hymns in foreign languages than I did in English. When I was a teenager Hillsong and Vineyard seemed so much cooler and more relevant than old hymns. As I grew up I started listening to more hymns- really listening to the lyrics. I was awestruck by how deep, how profound, and how beautiful the carefully crafted words truly are. Before long I was hooked. I couldn’t help but recognize that the modern cool feel good songs lacked a theological basis and became disgusted by how the songs were all about me and not so much about God.

In college one of my most hated songs was “Friend of God” because the whole song is me focused instead of God focused. Anyone who has experienced other cultures will recognize that US culture lacks respect. The whole Word of Faith movement where we demand that God give us what we want is unthinkable in most places because it’s so ridiculous. Who am I that I could ever demand anything from the God of the universe. Let’s just think about it for a moment. I support a pastor’s kids through school. I’ve made a commitment to him and I’ve never not made good on it. But that pastor would never dream of coming up to me and saying “Give me money for school fees because you have to!” instead he always comes in humility and asks for my help and he always says thank you. He recognizes that he doesn’t deserve my help but he gets it because of grace. The same is true with us and God. We could never deserve God’s blessings but only receive them by His remarkable grace.

So my next entry will be going through my favorite hymn stanza by stanza to show it’s depth, beauty, and power in understanding Christianity. Can anyone guess what my favorite hymn is?

Congo Disorder

Some people call it Congo Disorder other Congo Dementia, or Congo Disease but we all say CD for short and we all know exactly what we mean by it. I don’t know what it is about this place (or maybe I do) but it seems to literally drive a person mad. I’ve spent years in other African countries without a break and it never bothered me. I admit there have been plenty of times even while living in America that I needed a break or was sick of life as usual but CD is very different.

When a foreigner first gets back to Congo after having been in some other more normal country Congo’s backwardness is extremely irritating and impatient sets in. After a week or 2 you get used to it fall into routine and Congo’s nonsense feels normal. After as short as 3 weeks for some or as long as 2 months for others CD starts to set in. You stop thinking like a normal person and start acting foolishly. There is a definite linkage to the onset of CD and the amount of time remaining before one leaves Congo.

Here are some common symptoms of CD

• A short fuse: even the smallest of problems are just too much and an explosion is likely to occur
• Throwing caution to the wind: being careful about not drinking contaminated water or eating food sure to make you sick, driving too fast too late etc
• Pessimism: thinking Congo will not change and projects will not be successful
• Insensitivity: not caring about other people’s feelings or situations
• Daydreaming: it is difficult to stay focused on the projects at hand since your mind is constantly wandering to better places

I am currently suffering from CD and need to get outta here! Hopefully tomorrow. As I’ve been telling some of my friends “I’ll be nicer when I get back.”

Everyday Adventures and Miracles

“Hey white person get back to the back!” a man angrily yelled at us. We were driving the Kolwezi road at night, never a good idea. The Kolwezi road has been financed 3 times by outside donors to be paved. Despite the millions of dollars given the road is still unpaved and undoubtedly that money went straight into a few people’s pockets. It is now a toll road so the government makes maybe a million dollars a day off of not fixing the roads.

We didn’t mean to be traveling the road at night. Unfortunately a meeting that should have lasted 10 minutes turned into a 3 hour meeting and through off our carefully planned schedule. There was a truck stopped with its engine off in front of us so we passed. That’s when the man started yelling about how there was no way through. I translated for my boss who doesn’t speak Swahili, but he figured we could find a way through. Then we saw another truck and another truck and well too many trucks to count- all stuck. After getting out and searching for a way around my boss returned and said “Get comfortable. Looks like we’re spending the night here.”

So as we tried to get comfortable for the long night in a cramped space I asked God to help us out of this mess and let us sleep in our own beds that night. After 2 hours the engines came back on and cars started moving until finally we were on the move again. It had taken the people 2 hours to dig and push out one of the stuck trucks and then direct all the chaos of parked cars so a vehicle could pass. We were all shocked we didn’t have to spend the night. I told my fellow travelers I’d asked God to help us and He had. They obviously didn’t believe it was God who had gotten us out of the jam but from then on have always asked me to pray for their travels so it did make some kind of an impact on them.

While I was in Likasi my friend was trying unsuccessfully to start his newly designed copper production plant. He spent tens of thousands of dollars searching for the hang up but each day just became more frustrated. On Wednesday I went to a prayer meeting and we prayed for his plant. Sure enough the next time I saw him he said he had found the problem and his plant was working perfectly just after we had prayed for him and his plant. I told him about our prayers and he was in disagreement about the source but thankful for my efforts none the less.

It was just such a good reminder that God hears our prayers and cares about things that are in so many ways unimportant. Last months we had a measles outbreak and there were 8 funerals for kids under 5. Pain, suffering, and funerals have become such a normal part of my life and it’s good to see prayers answered and little miracles take place. It’s good to remember that for every child I’ve lost 10 or even thousands more were helped. The fact that of well over a thousand kids less than 10 died in these conditions is a miracle in and of itself. The death counts were far worse in other areas. But for whatever reason it is easier or maybe more natural to focus on what has gone wrong and just assume that was has gone right is simply normal. Little reminders of the unnoted miracles are always important. God is love, God is good, and God never left Africa and never will.

Avant

Recently we’ve had 3 Belgians move onto the mine. They were all born in Congo in the 50’s. They don’t really speak English so we usually communicate in Swahili with some French and English shoved in along the way. A few days ago we happened to be around some foreigners who don’t speak Swahili so it was mostly French. It’s amazing how bad my French has gotten. It’s pretty easy for me to understand because I haven’t actually forgotten the words but it’s so difficult and unnatural to form sentences. It’s kind of like when I go back to Zambia and my friends talk to me in Tonga but I have to respond to them in English because I just can’t put sentences together. I’m guessing being around these Belgians will change that at least for French.

So one of them decided to tell us stories of Congo avant (before). Meaning before independence. I’m not so arrogant to believe I know more about how things were back then than he does from merely reading books but it was so obvious to me from what I had read that he was romanticizing things. Things were much better back then for whites and blacks alike no doubt the Congolese destroyed things. But the people weren’t free and they weren’t treated fairly by any stretch of the imagination. They were given free education and free health care in fact the best health care in all of Africa. But they were third class citizens behind the Portuguese and Greeks who weren’t even allowed to live in the center of the city. Talk about racism.

I’ve thought a lot lately about what would happen if all the foreigners left this country. Or if they had never come in the first place. There have been so many injustices and so much suffering here by the hands of foreigners and natives alike. Some times it just feels like too much. Overwhelming and seemingly impossible to change.

Today I saw the street kids I’ve become friends with. One of them showed me his cut up knuckles. He said the Catholic sister who cares for him beat his knuckles because he didn’t bring her any money from his begging. I was about to give him some food when 20 kids bombarded me and asked if I’d buy them a soccer ball. One kid tripped and started crying as his arm started bleeding. I took him to the nearest store and bought a bandage for him. Then bought the kids a ball to which they decided to give me a round of applause. It made me so sad. Here are these great kids whose parents either died or threw them away. Now they have nothing. When the boy fell down the first thought that came to my head was “I don’t have time for this.” It took me maybe 20 minutes to get him bandaged up and then buy their soccer ball. How pathetic that I considered not helping him to save myself 20 minutes. I wonder how many other people walked past these kids today and did nothing to help them. I wish there was a magic button I could push to give them a decent life, but there isn’t so I do the little things that I can and I wonder what Jesus would do if He were here in this awful place.

A Typical Day

So people always ask me what a typical day is like in my life. It’s hard to say because everyday is different and because this is Africa you have to expect the unexpected. Few days go as I think they will.

For example I woke up this morning at 6AM after all the night sounds had disappeared like the howling monkeys and hooting owls not to mention chirping crickets and loud frogs. I took a shower then read my Bible for a while, made some coffee and headed to the all purpose room (dinning room, living room, and office) around 7:30. My coworker beat me there and had the TV on Sky News so I poured some coffee and he drank his tea while we heard about what was going on in the world. I turned on my laptop and started working through some paperwork when one of my workers came in to give me a status report on his project. After I had drunk all my coffee I headed down to the other office building where there is internet. I checked my emails and sent out some responses and reports.

I just reopened our clinic here so I went down to see how the doctor was doing. We chatted about some of the issues and ideas until a man came by who was sick. I sat outside on the dirt and chatted with the patient’s wife and daughter about all the basics. They giggled with glee at the thought of having had an actual conversation with a white person in Swahili no less. When the doctor had finished we talked for a while about reports statistics ideas etc then I walked back to the office to type up all we had discussed.

I went up to the kitchen and decided to eat some lunch with my coworkers. After lunch I organized to go to the village with Lunda. We were to leave at 1:40 sharp because I had a meeting with the Development Committee at 2pm. Then it started pouring down rain so we waited until 2:15 when the rain let up enough for us to get going. The road was horribly muddy so about 2 miles from the camp I told Lunda we would have to push. The only problem was I was wearing flipflops. It was useless trying to push since I slid all over the place nearly dropping my 200lb bike each time. I removed my shoes and did slightly better barefooted. Thankfully Lunda had on sneakers and was able to help a lot!

Finally we reached less muddy ground and I tried to start the motorcycle. Someone stole my battery and I just haven’t been to a place that sells batteries yet so I’ve been using the kick start. As these things go it wouldn’t start . A concerned man who was on the back of a 3 person motorcycle taxi stopped to tell me I should buy an SUV and motorcycles aren’t for white people especially not for women!

There is a mechanic shop (well a plastic tarp held up by sticks with some screw drivers and wrenches) by the side of the road so I stop in. A 15 year old boy under the tutelage of another boy maybe 20 years old grabbed a screwdriver and had the problem fixed in less than 5 minutes. I paid the 15 year old and thanked him then drove off to my meeting only an hour late.

Thankfully it’s African time so they were there waiting for me some of them hadn’t even arrived yet. They saw my muddy feet and hands and knew I was telling the truth about why I was late. We discussed some of the issues in the village and made some resolutions. Everyone was happy and we started off to the school to check on my project there to fix the leaky roof. Apparently it was half fixed so we investigated and made a plan to have it completely fixed. We jumped back on the motorcycle and headed off.

I returned to the mine to explain the new attempt at fixing the school’s roof to my workers. When I got back to the office I realized the generator had been turned off for the regular one hour from 4pm to 5pm while they refill the diesel. No generator means no water so much for cleaning my muddy feet. I was able to steal some water out of the cleaning lady’s bucket to wash my hands. I started typing up a proposal based upon my meeting with the development committee. Then the generator kicked on and I was about to head up to get clean when the doctor came over to talk about more problems. While I was dealing with that it started pouring down rain. I decided to procrastinate on finishing my updated medical reports and started typing this blog entry. It’s now 7pm and the rain has finally finished… oh wait there it goes again! I should go anyway so I can cook supper and definitely clean my disgusting feet! Hopefully I’ll have time to read a few pages from a good book and get to sleep by 10.

Just a typical day for me.

To See and To Love

The first thing I heard this morning was that an earthquake hit Christchurch, New Zealand. One of my coworkers is a Kiwi so he was a bit frazzled trying to get skype to work on our slow internet connection to see if his family was ok. I checked facebook only to hear other friends of mine give a good report that their friends and loved ones had all survived the terrible tragedy. My coworker’s family all survived and only his aunt was injured but they expect a full recovery.

It made me think about how real world tragedies seem to me. I guess for most people the news that tragedy hit New Zealand is sad but doesn’t really touch people personally. For me it’s only 2 degrees of separation. I thought about it and I suppose I have only 2 degrees of separation with people in at least half the countries in the world in some way or another. It’s so much easier to care when it hits closer to home.

I’ve been reading Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. It is challenging me in so many ways. The concept of Christian community and what God intended for it to be is so challenging and encouraging. How we far too often replace human love for the supernatural Godly love we are called to have. Human love actually only serves our own interests instead of the interest of others. How easy it is to be so self absorbed and so full of pride instead of the people and community God created us to be.

I thought about how we often don’t know our neighbors and don’t even try to love people unless it serves our own selfish interests. I used to work with homeless people when I lived in America. I would mention it sometimes to other Christians and the majority of the time I was hit with remarks like “Well they’re only homeless because they choose to be.” “They’re all just lazy drug addicts.” “They deserve it.” “Don’t give them handouts.” My normal rebuttal was simple “have you ever talked to them?” There was never a time when any of them could tell me yes. We sit in our high lofty towers and judge the world without love or compassion. I’ll never forget Shane Claiborne saying a woman told him not to focus so much on the poor or think he could actually stop poverty because Jesus said the poor you will always have with you. Shane Claiborne responded “How many of the poor do you have with you?”

Even though I have friends all over the world and have dedicated my life to helping the poor, I still find myself being all too self absorbed. It’s so natural, so easy to think about my own needs and slip into human love alone. I feel compassion for the earthquake in Christchurch because my coworker's aunt was injured and I care about my coworker because we mutually help each other do our jobs better. If a hurricane were to hit my relatives in America I would expect him to also show compassion towards me.

So there are kind of 3 groups of people. Friends and family who are easy to love. People who you can mange to love without the Holy Spirit’s help. Then there are strangers. People you don’t know and don’t relate to and don’t expect to ever get anything in return from. Those people are not so much hard to love but hard to see. Like in the movie The Blind Side based on the true story. Michael wasn’t hard to love he has just hard to see. The third group would be enemies. Of course at least for me I don’t think I really have any enemies. But what I mean is people who no matter how much you try to be loving and try to do the right things or even just go about your own business they treat you poorly. Loving those people goes completely against human nature. If we are truly living in the Spirit though loving these people unconditionally without concern for oneself is natural.

So my prayer is that I would live in the Spirit at all times. I want to love all people at all times no matter what. I want to see people. God help me to never be like the 2 who passed by the man lying in the path but to always be like the good Samaritan. I want to always be loving even to my “enemies” or to those who mistreat me. To never be judging and lofty. To always show grace and patience. God help me to love just like Jesus did.

My life is ridiculous, but I like it!

It was raining, not pouring, just the typical Congo rainy season constant flow of rain. I felt blisters forming on my toes because I was wearing a friend’s shoes that were a size too small. All of my shoes were stolen and it’s not like you can buy shoes in the middle of nowhere. I was trampsing through the woods on a muddy path pushing my motorcycle because I had a flat tire. As I curled my toes to try to avoid the rubbing of my newly formed blisters against the harsh leather of my friend’s shoes I asked myself a question that comes to my mind often while I’m in Congo, “What am I doing here?”

As I continued down the path starting to get tired I realized I had made it about a mile and only had one more mile to go before reaching the mining camp. I thought about my current predicament and how it illustrated my life at the moment. I had been on my way to the little farm I had been working on for 6 months when my tire went flat. I left my motorcycle behind and walked the rest of the distance to check things out. To my dismay I found a colossal failure. My guys had abandoned the project when all the craziness happened and my company was kicked out. Had they just worked a couple hours a day in the garden they would be sitting on a few thousand dollars worth of crops (that would have been theirs to keep), but in typical African fashion they didn’t think about the future. TIA

“Ick!” I stepped in a huge mud puddle. I stopped thinking for a moment while I focused on where I was stepping again. A few moments later my mind went back to my situation. The past 3 months have been almost stranger than fiction. I was kicked off the mine by armed soldiers who barricaded the mine and eventually stole it from my company. As a result I lost my job. Went back to America for a wonderful whirlwind month of traveling seeing friends and family. Came back to Africa and thought I’d have to say good bye to Congo forever. Stayed in Lubumbashi and there was an attempted coup. It failed, no big deal, but since this is an election year more craziness is sure to follow. Found out most of my stuff was stolen from the mine by my favorite employee who was by far the strongest Christian! And now I find out my projects failed! Not to mention the fact that I am currently walking through the woods in the rain pushing a motorcycle in shoes that don’t fit.

As I kicked down my kickstand and went inside the office for a drink of water I saw the new site director of the new mining company that had bought the concession from the people who stole it from my old company. I met the CEO and he impressed me with his desire to start social programs so I accepted his job offer. I officially start in March although unofficially I started a couple of weeks ago. They offered me a decent salary and more money for projects than I had been allowed before “Things are about to change.” I told myself with a smile. I just have a feeling that this is going to be a great year. My life is ridiculous, but I like it!

Funny Congo Stories

So I’ve been considering putting the blog to rest. Then I noticed a tab called “stats” and was shocked to realize people actually read the stuff I’m writing. People from all over the world. In that case I’m never short on good stories. So here goes.

I’m American and look fully Caucasian. I have curly hair, blue round eyes, and freckles everywhere. But for whatever reason Congolese people think I’m Chinese. Usually it’s children but even adults some times. There is a large Chinese population here because as we all know China is grabbing up mineral concessions all over the world right now. Because they think I’m Chinese all day long I hear “Chinoise (Chinese in French) heehaw”! Of course it is actually Ni Hao but I guess that’s what the Congolese think they are saying. When I first got here I thought they were making donkey noises. So don’t be surprised if you come to Congo and get taken for a Chinese with a donkey greeting!

Congolese are always trying to rob people with stupid ideas. One guy opens a hotel in Kolwezi. He decides to use solar power because it’s more reliable than Congolese power. As soon as he opens his hotel representatives from SNEL (the Congolese power company) notice lights on and come in to demand that he pay them money for his illegal electricity. He explains the concept of solar power and shows them the panels and the batteries. They come back a few days later and insist that he is stealing power from them and must pay! He shows them again and convinces them that he at least is actually using solar power. The next week government representatives show up and insist that he must pay a sun tax because he is using Congo’s sun to get his power! He of course didn’t pay but that’s how ridiculous people are!

A Congolese worker, Kabongo, goes to a restaurant for a beer with his Expat boss. They enjoy a few drinks and then the boss says “that’s it for the night see you tomorrow.” Kabongo begs his boss for more drinks. His boss says truthfully that he doesn’t have any more money with him. Kabongo says his boss has some money in his car. The boss denies it and finally gives Kabongo his keys and says if you can find any money you can have it. Kabongo in his drunken stupor decided to drive his boss’ car even though he’d never driven a car ever in his life. He figures out how to get it into reverse just as his boss is exiting the restaurant. He pushes down on the accelerator and rams into the car behind them. His boss is yelling “stop stop stop!” but he only pushes harder on the accelerator because he is so freaked out. He finally makes the car stop and jumps out. His boss says “what were you thinking!” Kabongo replies “It wasn’t me!” LOL! He was caught red handed his boss watched him do it and he still denied it!