“Death is swallowed up in victory…through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Corinthians 15:54

Sunday 24 August 2008We don’t know how to begin.  How do you begin when your heart is breaking and the tears won’t stop.  Yesterday we received the devastating news that Ron’s sister Jan had passed away unexpectedly.  Our minds are flooded with sweet, sweet memories and our hearts know a void not known before.  In the stillness we feel here, the stars shining brightly in the dark, dark night, we pray each star be an angel whose bright light will span time and distance, bringing peace and comfort to our family.   We have turned to the only place we can at this time, to God and His word.  We don’t understand, and I suppose we are not meant to understand death and the pain and sorrow families are consumed with.  We do know that love has no end, and neither does God’s grace and mercy.  Today we are feeling more alone than we ever have in Zambia, and so very, very far away.  We are grateful for your loving thoughts, for your prayers for our family, and for reminding us that Jan is now seated at the eternal banquet table of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  We went to church this morning at the United Church of Zambia at Twapia – the closest thing we have to a “home” church here in Zambia.  As we listened to the words of the songs today – “You are with me Jesus” – “Lord I come to You today, Lord I pray you show me your ways” – “Abide in me O Lord, abide in me I pray, You are Lord, My strength, My God” – “Jesus is our life today, tomorrow and forevermore”  - and we witnessed a congregation full of joy in the Lord, and we were reminded that nothing compares to the promise we have in Jesus.  And we offered a prayer of thanksgiving for the wonderful life of Jan, for her loving and kind ways, and for her children and grandchildren.  We thanked God for the wonderful blessing of Jan, and that we were among the privileged few who knew her as sister and friend.  Thank you Lord for our sweet, dear sister Jan.      

“Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant…” Mathew 20:26

Tuesday  19 August 2008Today Zambia lost a great man and a dedicated leader when President Levy Mwanawasa died at the age of 59 following complications from a stroke.  He was one of the few leaders in Africa who was not afraid of opposition and not afraid to fight a difficult battle.  He fought for what he believed in, and what he believed in was the Zambian people.  He was heralded for his continuing fight against corruption at all levels of the government.  He was a Christian man who lived a modest life as President of this nation.  He was not known for his charisma, but for his honesty and integrity.  He was highly respected and well known for being a true servant of the people.  President Mwanawasa was committed to improving the lives of his fellow Zambians.  He looked not only at the statistics, but also the tangible truth he could witness for himself.  I’m sure there are those who did not love this man, but I have not met any.  We were driving into town this afternoon when Foster received a text message on his phone saying the President had died.  He looked for the Zambian flag which flies high above the Provincial Government Building in town.  It was at half mast.  A sure sign that the message was true.  The first reaction here was disbelief.  The second reaction was to drop to your knees and pray.  Pray for this nation who was struggling with this strong leader to fight its way out of a corrupt political arena.  Pray that the economic advances President Mwanawasa fought so hard and so long for will not be lost.  Pray that the corrupt politicians will not be able to buy their way into office.  Pray for peace.  There is fear here.  Fear for the nation’s future.  Fear of opposing parties, fear of opposing factions within the ruling party, fear there may be attempted outbreaks of violence by opposing parties.  Kitwe, the town Foster and his family call home is a political hotspot.  Immediately following the announcement of the President’s death, soldiers were deployed and lined the streets of Kitwe, as a reminder that law and order will prevail, and they are very ready to stop any outbreaks of violence or riotous behavior.  The streets here in Ndola remain calm.  Already the streets here are quieter though, as Zambia begins a seven day national period of mourning.  There is a tremendous sense of loss.We simply don’t know the effect any of this may have on our stay here.  We will see more of what is to come following the national period of mourning.  There is no perceived sense of fear or any reason to believe there will be any trouble along our path.  But we don’t know.  Americans are well received here and welcome.  But, we are on the U.S. Embassy listing for notification of any impending danger and we can depend on their assistance as well, if needed. 

“Suffer the little children to come unto me… for of such is the kingdom of God” Mark 10:14

Monday   18 August 2008Today was the first time I saw baby Peter smile.  What a glorious site that was!  He reached out his sweet little hand to me…and he smiled.  It was a crooked, endearing little smile, and I never saw anything more beautiful in my life.  Could this even be the same child who only a few weeks ago I was so afraid would die very much too soon?  But let me back up a little...  When Foster and I returned to the hospital to check on Peter we discovered he had been discharged and we immediately went to his home in Baluba.  His mother’s cousin told us they had moved to Pamodzi, a compound far from Baluba, and on the other side of town.  She said to go to the Methodist Church and ask for Mrs. Reagan who is in a wheel chair.  Mrs. Reagan is Peter’s grandmother.  And so we drove to Pamodzi, a very large and heavily populated compound past Kansenshi and on the way to Chifubu.  As soon as we entered we asked directions.  We asked directions many, many, many times.  And each time we asked, we also asked if they knew Mrs. Reagan in a wheelchair or Peter and Sharon Mposhi.  How could it be so hard to find the Methodist Church and a woman in a wheelchair?  Finally Foster spotted a woman dressed as one of the sisters of the Methodist Church.  After a long discussion in Bemba, Foster relayed the disappointing news.  There was not a Mrs. Reagan in a wheelchair at the Methodist Church, and she did not know of Peter or his mother, Sharon.  But the good news was there was another Methodist Church.  This was the African Methodist Church and she suggested we ask at the United Methodist Church.  So Foster carefully backed the Land Cruiser out of the narrow, bumpy foot path and back onto the dirt road of Pamodzi.  And we were off in search of the next Methodist Church.  Once again, after many stops we finally located the United Methodist Church next to the line of bars in town.  The minister greeted us warmly, and was very sorry, but he had only been transferred there a week ago and did not know about any of the people we asked about.  We decided all we could do was return to Baluba, pick up Sharon’s cousin, and take her to Pamodzi with us in search of baby Peter.We returned to Baluba and were told they had moved back to Baluba, but to a different house.  As we drove down the deeply rutted path, a little girl about 5 years old shouted to us and pointed which way we should go to find Peter.  Everyone knew why we had come.  It was the house just past the banana trees.  As we walked toward the house a woman came out.  Foster explained who we were looking for and why.  She said that yes, they live there now, but Sharon had found work and Peter was with her.  But she could show us the place.  So, she hopped in the car and we were off.  I didn’t know what a large village Baluba is.  We drove all the way to the main road, crossed over to the other side, and headed deeper into the bush.  We came to one point that we weren’t sure the car could cross.  It was a dirt bridge, and someone had been digging along the side.  We stopped.  I asked how far to walk.  Foster asked the woman, and said we cannot walk.  Then he said “I think we can just make it.”  So, very, very slowly we crossed over the much too narrow “bridge”, as I leaned far out the window directing which way to turn or if there was danger of falling off the side.  Foster’s skill shone forth, and we all cheered.  We drove for what seemed like an eternity down the tiny, winding path.  We had to close the windows because the elephant grass which was so close on each side was also so tall it was bending from the weight and invading through the car windows, whipping at our faces.   We continued down what was clearly a foot path, winding around huge ant mounds, until we finally saw a large clearing.  Just beyond that was the farm where Sharon had found some work.  As we approached, we knew this was a wealthy man in Baluba – he had large planted fields, cattle, pigs, goats and chickens.  He looked to be around 80 years of age – I wonder how old he really was.  At any rate, he was very friendly and happy to receive visitors.  I don’t imagine he gets many visitors there.  Unfortunately we had just missed Sharon.  She had finished work for the day and was walking home – taking the shortcut the car could never make.  So, we drove out as we had driven in – a long and arduous drive – and I wondered if we would ever find Peter.  But as we drove back to the other side of Baluba toward the house, we saw them.  And Sharon was so happy to see us she immediately began laughing and ran toward us.  And there was Peter, tied to her back with a chitenge.  I was never so happy to see anyone.  I had feared that Sharon had fled, afraid to face their future.  But there they were.  As we talked, we found out that they had never moved to Pamodzi, but to Chipulukusu.  We would have been searching a long time!  We also discovered that Peter was on TB medication, antibiotics, and an anti-fungal for sores he had in his mouth, all of which had finished that day.  Thank you Lord, for bringing us to Peter on this day.  So we dropped them at home, quickly went back into town to the pharmacy which was about to close, picked up food for Peter as suggested by the doctor, and then back to Baluba.  And Baluba is far from town.  George is about the halfway point between Baluba and town.  When we returned we went inside the home.  It is the home of Sharon’s elder sister, and a much better place than where they previously had been.  Peter’s father, Ronald, is out of prison now and home, and had been working at the farm with Sharon.   We made arrangements to take Peter for his check-up at children’s hospital on Monday.  The parents had also been advised by the hospital to go for VCT – voluntary counseling and testing for HIV.  Peter’s sister Gift has already tested negative.  And that brings us to today.We took some clothes for Peter and his older sister Gift today.  As they all piled into the car I could see it had been a wise choice.  Gift, four years old, was dressed in a deep red velvet dress, fancy with lace and a little flower.  But as I handed Sharon the bag of clothes, I saw Gift’s beautiful dress was almost in shreds.  There were long tears throughout the well-worn fabric.  Sharon quickly dressed her in the bright red skort, white shirt and denim tennis shoes.  Peter was wearing the shirt we had given him last time, but Sharon put his new pants and socks and shoes on.  When I turned around to look at Peter and greet them all, that’s when he reached out to me and smiled.  It was so wonderful to see him looking and feeling so much better, and actually smiling.  His check-up went very well.  Next we went to the family center where Sharon and husband could be tested for HIV.  It is a very long process as there is intensive counseling first, then testing, then results.  As we waited Gift remained with Foster and me.  There was an area for the children to play, and even some toys to play with, but she was not interested.  Gift climbed onto my lap, content to watch the other children.  I asked if she wouldn’t like to play and took her by the hand to the area where the other children were pushing trucks and stacking blocks.  I got down on the floor and played dump trucks with one little boy, encouraging Gift to join in.  But she just stood and watched.  So we returned to the bench to wait.  But as the time passed, she climbed off my lap and decided to play with a few blocks and the rear axle of a broken plastic truck – alone.  But then came Johnny.  Johnny was a four year old pistol – bright and smiling, vivacious and happy and very outgoing.  Soon they were playing together, and as I watched them I thought these could be two children anywhere – well dressed, happy, laughing, and a little fighting over the toys – typical four-year old behavior.  And then I looked at the sign above the doorway for the HIV testing facility, and I saw Gift’s little belly swollen from worms, and I remembered how she had been dressed this morning… and I remembered where we are.When Sharon and husband had completed everything we were very surprised to learn that Sharon had not advised her husband about Peter’s positive HIV status, or that it was probable that Sharon was also positive.  It’s still unclear to me why he thought they were going to the testing facility, but he was clearly shocked by what he discovered.  He declined to be tested today, saying he was too shocked and needed a few days to absorb everything.  He said he will return on his own Friday.  Sharon’s test results were positive.  We return to the hospital on Wednesday for Peter and Sharon to begin their course of ARV medications.It was a sad day, but a good day.  Good to see Peter healthier and smiling.  Good to see Gift playing and smiling.  Good to be here in Zambia with the children.   Please pray for Peter and Gift and their family.  Please pray for all God’s children…all the Peters and Gifts.

Great is your love, reaching to the heavens… Psalm 57:10

Sunday 10 August 2008                                                                                     We decided not to go to church today as I had a bad headache. Around 9am there was a knock on the door. When I answered, there stood a man – a white man – with a black child in his arms, about 18 months old. The man stated very simply, “I am here to give my late wife’s clothing to you for the children and young adults you serve.” The grief in his eyes was very apparent, and very, very new. As he spoke the little boy began to cry, huge tears rolling down his tiny little cheeks, and we knew he was crying for the loss of his mother. And the man said, “This is our son”, choking back his own tears. He was a young man, under 30 years, and overcome with the grief that comes with an unexpected and sudden loss. His eyes were a bit red, and he had a dazed, faraway look in his eyes. He was desperately trying to be strong enough – long enough – to do this – to donate his wife’s clothing to children in need. His words were few, but he told me his wife, a Zambian woman, only 26 years old had just died from malaria. She lived near here, but he was living in Australia. She was preparing to move to Australia when she became ill. The malaria went to her brain, and there was nothing that could be done. Once again, we are reminded how very fragile life is here.                                                                He was in shock, and not talking much, so I don’t know how he knew to come here or who sent him – it really doesn’t matter. But, I guess we all know who really sent him. God’s presence here is always very evident. There were three women accompanying this young man who brought in several suitcases full of clothing and shoes. As we spoke they deposited heaps of clothing on school desks and chairs. I pray he and his wife’s family are taking comfort in knowing her clothing will benefit these children who have nothing. In his loss he has given a tremendous gift to our children. As he quickly turned away to leave, still choking back his tears, I asked his name and he only replied Gary. I took his hand in mine for a brief moment, and thanked him again for thinking of our children, and invited him to return at any time. May God bless Gary and his family. Please take a moment to pray for Gary and his orphaned son. It is the only gift we can give him in return.

“Consider the lilies of the field…” Matthew 6:28

Monday 4 August 2008

Today began the home visits for the students attending the OMNI School. August is a “holiday” month for the school children in Zambia. Teddy, our long-time teacher, suggested we visit this month so as not to interrupt the children’s schooling. The challenge will be to find the children at home. For some the holiday means a time to visit grandparents or parents who live far away, for some of the younger children it’s a time to visit and play with friends and relatives in George, for some of the boys it’s a time to trap as many rats as possible – earning a bit of money by selling the rats for food, and as always it’s a time for work – making the long walk to the grinding mill, constructing mud bricks for home repairs, tilling the land, and fetching water.

I packed my backpack this morning with paper and pens to record information and take family histories and my camera to photograph the children and their families. Then I packed worm medication, anti-fungal cream, triple antibiotic ointment, band-aids, alcohol wipes, rubber gloves, birthing kits, and cough drops hoping to be able to address some of the family’s needs while visiting. Teddy met me at 8am and we were off walking. This is without a doubt one of my favorite times here in Zambia. It is such a privilege to walk through the village of George and greet our children and their families. It is a privilege to see where our children live, how they live, who they live with, and hear their guardians’ comments and concerns. And it fills my heart to overflowing to know we are welcome here – OMNI and Ron and I. We were greeted by nearly everyone we passed along the way, people calling out their welcome from their homes and from neighboring trails when they would see us. Most of the children in our school now know my name, so all day I was answering the waves and calls of smiling children “Mary Sue, how are you?” Teddy was answering the calls of the adults, each one wanting to make sure we would visit their home too.

Caregivers expressed their gratitude to OMNI for bringing education to their children and this community, stating that they simply cannot afford to send their children to a government school. As one grandmother said, without OMNI her grandchildren would not be receiving an education, a chance for a future, they would be just be loitering. Now they have a chance for the future, a chance to secure a job, and a chance to help the village be lifted up. They also were thanking us for providing a meal each day for their children – for some children the only meal they receive. The children and their guardians also expressed their gratitude to the sponsors who help to make this education and feeding program possible, and for their letters. The children and their caregivers look forward to that letter so much, and to the photos the sponsors send of themselves and their families. Letters are not common in the bush of Zambia and so that is a real treat which the entire family shares in.

Today was also especially gratifying to witness the interaction of our teacher Teddy, or should I say our beloved teacher Teddy, with the children and their families. He loves the children – all the children – and they love him. Even little ones not in school, come to him and while I’m not sure what they are saying, they are soon laughing together. And when a child’s guardian brings forward a problem or health issue I can see the genuine concern in his expression and the gentle touch of his hand on a child’s shoulder.

What touched my heart most today was the visit to the home of James Maganizo, our fourth home today. James is one of the sweetest boys I have ever known. During school days he always greets me with his shy little smile, head tilted down, and hand outstretched. Today was no different. When we arrived at his home his mother hurried inside to find a seat for Teddy and I as James greeted us with the traditional Zambian handshake and tiny curtsey. The difference today was he was not dressed in his school uniform. He was in his usual, every day clothes, and I couldn’t help but want to cry. His clothes were worn and torn, his pants did not fit properly and he had no shoes. Yet he had the biggest smile I ever saw. His mother, Veronica, soon came out with a chair for me covered with a lace edged cloth, and a small wooden bench about ten inches long and eight inches from the ground for Teddy. The best she had for her guests. As she moved the chair close to me and said “You can take a seat please” I noticed how the thin legs of the chair wobbled to and fro and the deeply worn red velvet upholstery under the laced cloth. I said “Twatotela” (we thank you) and carefully sat down as she offered her hand in welcoming friendship along with a deep curtsey.

It was oftentimes difficult for me to focus on the questions we were asking as I looked at this mother and child and their surroundings. James’ mother wore a shirt much too large for her slim frame. The shirt was held together in several places with safety pins, and the chitenge wrapped around her waist was faded by the years and worn. Their home was neat in appearance, the dirt yard still remaining with traces of the lines from having been swept with the elephant grass broom. As with all the homes in George, there is no electricity and no running water. The tiny mud brick home has been painted, using dirt containing clay mixed with water to create the decorative reddish orange trim at the bottom of the structure. While we don’t see anything you could call plentiful here in George, this home was stark by comparison to most. The roof was covered with the typical thatching, but the grass was sparse. The underlying plastic on the roof meant to keep rain out was missing in many places, having suffered the effects of the wind and rain and heat. There was no shelter for the cooking area, just an open fire near the front of the house where several small logs were burning slowly and a tiny black pot was perched directly in the center of the low flames. There was a small plastic tub at the front of the house where she had been washing their few clothes. There were no curtains or chitenges, not even an empty sack hanging in the windows or doorways which is customary here. There was a wood door at the front entrance, but it fell short of reaching the top of the doorway by nearly a foot.

James’ mother was very pleasant and soft-spoken. She answered each question to the best of her ability, slowly and thoughtfully, and was ready with James’ clinic card to show us he had received all of his vaccinations and that his recorded birth date is the 20th of October 1997. James is a single orphan. His mother explained that his father was attacked by criminals and killed in 2001. James has seven older half-brothers and sisters and one half-brother who died at the age of eight from yellow fever. His mother, Veronica was born in 1952 and has been ill for the past four years from a variety of causes – swelling of the face, fever, chest pains and the like. She and James go to the medical clinic at Twapia when they are ill, but care there is limited. Teddy told me that there have been many times she has been very ill. When the parents and guardians helped to clear a piece of land she was too sick to help and her elder daughter came and did the work, but Veronica came and was there. She is a responsible mother doing the best she can for her son. We discovered that they usually eat only once a day – nshima (the staple food of corn meal cooked with water) and some few vegetables, usually the ones which grow wild here. When she is able, she buys tomatoes and onions from the market and sells in George where there is no market, in order to earn a little money. When I asked if she had any questions for me or anything she would like to tell me her only reply was to express her gratitude for the education OMNI is providing for her child. Without the OMNI School James would not be able to attend school. And she is grateful for the meal he receives every day at school – she can see is healthier now. And in the traditional Zambian manner, she clapped her hands together and thanked me for visiting her.

This family I think is among the poorest of the poor. Yet they asked for nothing. There was nothing but gratitude in Veronica’s heart. She welcomed me. She thanked OMNI. She thanked me. My heart was breaking when we finally said good-bye. I have tremendous respect for Veronica. I respect her strength, her courage, her determination, and her dedication to her son. I think I can learn a lot from Veronica and James. Rest assured, we will be returning with clothing and shoes for both mother and son. Tonight I will be saying an extra prayer for James and his mother, and all the families here in such great need. And I’ll also be saying a prayer of thanksgiving – for the sweet, sweet smile of James and that God has blessed him with this special mother.

“Worship the Lord with gladness; come before him with joyful songs.” Psalm 100:2

Sunday 3 August 2008

Thomas Bwalya was one of the brick layers working at the OMNI project site last year, and we are blessed to now call him our friend. He stopped last week to welcome us back, and brought the latest addition to his family, Mabel. She was born last October shortly after we left and she is one of the happiest babies I have ever seen. When Thomas stopped to visit he also invited us to attend his church, and so today was our first church service since arriving in Zambia. Thomas and the minister of the church, Pastor Steve Makhoti, arrived at 8am to escort us to their church. A most welcoming gesture, and one of true friendship. The church is at Dag Hammarskjöld, a neighboring community to George. As we drove we talked of many things. We talked about the difficulties of sustaining a church in the bush of Zambia where total weekly donations average 10,000 kwacha (roughly $3). We talked about blessings – that the truest blessing is having Jesus in your heart and walking in His ways. We talked about the differences of living in the United States and Zambia. We talked about strength. The strength of the people of Zambia. The physical strength and the spiritual strength that is so evident here. I said I wished I could have even a fraction of the strength we have witnessed here, both spiritually and physically. Pastor Makhoti responded with “You are a white woman living in the bush of Zambia. You are stronger than you think. And remember Philippians 4:13 – You can do all things through Christ. Your strength, as our strength, comes through our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.” Those wise and kind words were what I needed to hear today, and I thank God for that reminder – that we can do all things through Him.

Then we began the long drive into Dag Hammarskjöld. Now a familiar place, we first drove down the deeply pitted asphalt road, more dirt than asphalt now, lined with tall, tall pines as far as the eye can see. Then onto a dirt road, barren on each side except for the high tension wires and one small stream where a few children were gathered washing. And then onto the dirt path, mostly used as a foot path, with deep ruts and many washed out areas. Homes are few and isolated. They are the typical homes of the villages here – small mud brick homes, one or two rooms, with a thatched roof. As we drove, the path narrowed with each turn, and we made our way past tall elephant grass, winding around trees and huge ant hills (most about 20 feet high). Then we turned onto church “road”. We drove in and around and through church yards until we finally reached Deliverance Everngelist Pentecost Church. As we made the long, difficult drive we discussed with Pastor Makhoti his weekly journey to preach at this church and minister to this congregation. He lives in Masala and takes the bus to the roadside of Dag Hammerskojld. When I say bus, I don’t mean a city bus like we are used to in the United States. This is a mini-bus, overcrowded with people sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, a driver who may or may not have a license, and the bus may or may not have enough fuel, and it very likely might break down on the way to your destination. Once the pastor makes it to the entrance of Dag Hammarskjöld he walks over 15 kilometers to reach his congregation, dressed in a suit and tie, and carrying a case with his Bible and notes. And I am reminded once again that we can do all things through Christ.

When we arrived there was no one else at church. But as I said, homes are far and walks are long. Thomas also explained that many of the women from the congregation were across the river at a coming of age camp for one of the girls in the community. As we entered the church we saw the familiar split log benches, close to the ground and supported by short round stumps. I sat in what I thought to be a sturdy looking bench, the end of the bench embedded into the wall. The roof is constructed of timbers which form cross-supports, then covered with plastic, and finally topped with elephant grass thatching. The sun was hot, and shone through spots where the plastic had been torn away by the wind and weather. The main support for the roof is a tree, a bit off-center, which has been cut into a “Y” shape and holds the cross beam securely in place.

After some time, Pastor Makhoti decided to begin the service even though there were only eight of us present. As honored guests we were invited to sit at the front of the church, sharing a bench with the pastor and one of the church elders. The service, of course, began with singing – Pastor began singing a song of praise and the others joined in. As the song continued, people entered the church. One by one, two by two, adults and children alike walked through the door singing as they entered. Before the song ended those rough benches were full, almost overfull, as our number grew from eight to eighty-eight, and the walls very nearly shook with the power of that song. We were reminded of one of our favorite movies, “The Bishop’s Wife”. In the movie a boy’s choir has been called for practice, but only two boys have come. As they begin singing, an angel in their midst calls in the remaining children with a wave of his hand until all the seats are full and the choir is glorious in its strength and harmony.

Today is a national day of prayer for the President of Zambia, Levy Mwanawasa, as he continues recovering from a stroke in a French hospital. There were many prayers for the return of his good health and a full and speedy recovery, as his death or continuing disability could prove disastrous to the nation, many fearing attempted takeovers by rebels and dissident factions. Prayers that God’s favor may embrace the people of Zambia. Our lesson today was Acts 2:42-47 – the fellowship of believers and the favor of God. We implore God that His favor may grace our lives, and thank God for the favor He has bestowed upon us in so many ways.

Many come forward to offer their testimony of thanksgiving for the gifts and favor God has shown them the past week. We hear thanks for healing, thanks for safe journey, and thanks for the visitors from America who have come to worship with them and share in their joy of the Lord. Members of the congregation also came forward, kneeling on the hard dirt floor, asking for prayers of healing. The congregation was singing in beautiful harmony and the quiet, slow beat of a drum in the background, as Pastor Makhoti laid hands on each person, praying for each according to their need. One young woman went into seizures as demons were exercised from her. Two other women came forward and gently held her arms and tied her chitenge around her feet so she would not hurt herself as she writhed on the dirt floor of the church, shaking violently. When the seizure ended, she was carried from the church unconscious, and the two women cared for her until she was able to return.

There are many, many songs – songs of praise and thanksgiving, songs which tell a Bible story (Moses and the parting of the Red Sea), songs of deliverance, songs begging forgiveness of our sins, songs of salvation and redemption, and songs of the power of faith and God’s grace. The women of the church exit the building, and reenter dancing and singing. They form a circle at the front of the church where they continue singing and dancing, using hand motions to tell a story. The youth of the church form a line, keeping step with their song, and carry the drums and tambourines forward. They form a circle around the drums, singing and marching and asking for God’s guidance. All the while the congregation is singing along in unbelievable harmony, some with hands raised in praise, others clapping in joy. Even Thomas’ nine month old daughter, tied on the back of his older daughter with a chitenge, is laughing and clapping her hands. There is a song about taking the gospel out into the world, sharing the love of Jesus, and making Him known to all. Pastor Makhoti is very animated. With his contagious smile, and holding his Bible high above his head, marches throughout the church singing, demonstrating the way we can bring God’s Word to all the world – walk – march – sing – and proclaim the glory of God to all the nations.

We arrived home again around 2:30 in the afternoon accompanied by Thomas. Worship in Zambia is not an hour long service. It is a day truly dedicated to the Lord. It is joy – it is celebration – it is a lesson in humility – it is a lesson in worship – worshipping with all our hearts, all that we have and all that we are.

(The entire congregation is not pictured, as children scattered to play, and many women were busy preparing food. Pastor Makhoti is next to me, and that’s Thomas next to him, holding his Bible high.)

“I will sing and make music with all my soul.” Psalm 108:1

Thursday 31 July 2008

I wondered at all the commotion this morning, as I heard the loud noises of desks being shifted and lots of chatter. As I entered the school room I saw the children carrying desks outside and discovered that today is cleaning day at the OMNI School. Tomorrow is the last day of school, and today is the day the teachers have designated for cleaning the school rooms and the yard. The children quickly removed all the desks and chairs from two of the classrooms while Ron and Teddy dismantled the two large tables the children have been using in the other classroom. The tables are actually dining tables for the house, but are serving a much needed purpose in the classroom now. The steel bases are in need of repair and will be transported to Twapia, to William the welder for repair and reinforcement. The yard was now covered with desks and the children stacked some chairs, and formed trains with others – sitting one behind the other in the line of chairs. When I looked back inside all I could see was a thick dark cloud circulating around the red of the children’s uniforms. Remember, this is the “dusty season”. Some of the boys were busy sweeping the floors, using the traditional brooms made from elephant grass. The brooms are only about 15” long and the grass is tied at one end with a small piece of leather or rope. The boys were bent over low, quickly moving the dirt and debris, eventually sweeping it outside onto the ground. While they were sweeping others were fetching water. One child did all the pumping, while the rest formed a procession filling containers and carrying the water. Some watered the garden and others brought buckets and pans of water for cleaning. The older children washed the walls – as high as they could reach standing on chairs, while others mopped the floors and washed the windows and doors. They cleaned according to what they are used to: the small traditional brooms, a thread-bare rope mop, water only as warm as it comes from the well, and no soap. The older boys were especially proud of their accomplishment in cleaning and requested a photograph, as cleaning is not typically for the older males in Zambia. The older girls inside began singing as they washed the windows and walls. The girls washing the windows outside joined in, and then I heard drumming. When I went outside to see who had brought a drum I found several boys using the desks as drums; beating the laminate tops with one hand and the metal side with the other, keeping perfect rhythm. It was like a magnet, and the children who were playing drew nearer, and all the children joined in singing. It was beautiful - children of all ages, working, playing and singing together. When one song would finish, you could hear another voice begin the next song almost immediately. And it wasn’t always an older, stronger voice. Often it was the soft voice of a small child which began, but the others always joined in. I wish I could tell you everything they were singing, but the only time I could join in was when one tiny little voice began “We are singing in the light of God...”

"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." Romans 8:18

Nothing is ever “easy” by American terms in Zambia. Mary Sue and Ron are sure being tested with many challenges. The first is something that we all take for granted – electricity. Mary Sue says that first they can’t get into the internet for more than three minutes at a time – not enough time to post a blog. And then, when they have internet access, they don’t have enough electricity to charge the battery on the lap top. So, I will do my best to convey what has been going on this past week at the George Compound.

First, I know that all of you are waiting to hear about the snake situation at George. They continue to see snakes and Ron is getting very good at killing them. They now have a collection of snakes hanging from a tree. Mary Sue asked why they needed to hang them there? The reply was that they were proud to have killed the snake and they wanted everyone to know about it. Please pray for their safety!

School is in recess at George Compound. Tomorrow is a holiday called Farmer’s Day. I assume that this means that all of the crops will be harvested and traded or maybe it is just another day off to laze in the sun and drink the homemade “hooch”? Nevertheless, Mary Sue and Teddy will begin interviews of the families living at George Compound. This is being done to determine what children should be in school at the OMNI Village and also to find out if there are double orphans (both mother and father deceased) that need housing assistance. Please pray for all of the people living at George Compound.

The infamous steel building is now about one third completed. Most all of the rafters have been put in place and the wall panels are being installed. All this by four hard- working men -- Ron and three other Zambian workers. Ron expects to complete this building, which will be used as storage, before they leave in October. The school building/cafeteria still needs to be completed as well. Windows need to be installed and the inside needs to be cleaned up before the desks can be moved to the new building. Mary Sue expects to purchase the rest of the school equipment this month and have the school ready for occupancy by next term. Please pray for good health and strength as this large task is completed.

Update on the housing situation for Mary Sue and Ron. They now have a heater for their bedroom (it gets very cold at night)! Imagine the children and families with no shoes or blankets. There is no running water to the house but the plumbing has been installed!! To flush the toilet, just fill the tank with water and flush – never mind that the water pump is about 300 feet from the house!! Shower, what shower? OMNI team members can think back to the “Agape showers” we used to take. Well, this is what Ron and Mary Sue have to look forward to once a week. Otherwise, it is just wash up however you can! After one month in Zambia, Ron decided to treat Mary Sue to dinner out at the Castle Lodge. This is the place they stayed for several nights when they first arrived. The owner took pity on them and told them to shower before dinner – no charge!! Mary Sue said she didn’t know how great hot, running water on her head and shoulders could feel. Please pray for comfort, grace and thanksgiving for good friends!

May God watch over you and bless you, Ron and Mary Sue!