The Story so far

        On this page Called-to-Serve's two permanent missionaries who are living full-time on the mission field, Elton and Barbara Cooke will post "journal entries." 

          The entries will be as current as possible, and their will be gaps, but by reading this you can get a idea of the evolution of their missionary journey



A Sweet Smelling Gift.  To God It Is Something Special
--March 8 2010

                                            

 
Leviticus 1:9 reads "Then the priest will bring all of the animal parts to the altar to be offered as a burnt offering, a sweet smelling gift to the Lord."   I never did think burning flesh was a good smell.  Often in the Old Testament it speaks of the "sweet smelling offering" as God accepts it.  We have personally encountered things that were unattractive to us, but to God they were seen and experienced differently.

I drove miles through unattractive mud and grass to Free Pentecostal Church of Tanzania yesterday.   It had just rained.  I turned off the main highway into a field and literally I made my own road.  The only Swahili word I knew was "kanisa." I stopped randomly and the Maasai I spoke to understood the word and pointed me in a direction.  I have never seen such open space, but I made it.  I saw four ostriches, a wild big bird, and miles and miles of open country.  It was cloudy, and the muddy road directed me as I drove through fields, up hills, down into awful looking ravines.  But I made it to a Lutheran church and the pastor got in my car and took me to the Pentecostal church.  They were singing and jumping and waiting.

African mud is indescribable.  But it is slippery and black and like glue.
There were 75 in attendance, and I arrived at 10:30 A.M.  The service was over at 2:00 P.M.   Two made professions of faith.  A Maasai couple.  It was
exciting.  I had begun this article last week, but yesterday.  The mud.  The church far from civilization.  I met people full of joy.  It was home for them.  It was their church family.  They gave testimonies that my interpreter translated for me.  A nine-year-old girl told of her encounter with a snake and God protected, and all present rejoiced.  A tall Maasai man exuberantly told of a miraculous healing that he had experienced himself.  A mother told of daughters who changed their behaviors because God had become important to them.  Those two daughters stood and were introduced.  I tried to record it all with pictures.

It was probably one of the most unattractive places in God's created world, but I know He saw it differently.  And He let me see it.  It was a "sweet smelling gift."

I have always believed when a person is doing God's will, God's adversary cannot stand it.  To use the things that happen to you to glorify God, to honor the presence of the Christ and His grace in your life when to the human eye, it may hurt, can be used by the adversary to defeat.  To God, it is a "sweet smelling gift."

God convinces us that his adversary is a powerless creature, who naively
thinks he can defeat God and His power.  He really thinks he is doing something.

My mother's homecoming this past week, for her death after many years of mindless suffering and my being faraway, we, her children and grandchildren, celebrate and testify positively to the presence of God and His grace.

A couple from the USA coming to serve with Called to Serve was stranded in London, England all day Saturday before last.  They arrived at 8:30 A.M. on the previous Sunday morning.  We went directly from the airport to Sambasha, the church where we worshiped. It was a delightful experience.  We worshiped with new friends.

That couple's luggage was lost and two days later, after tracking it all over the world, we were told those two bags could be anywhere in this world.  We had dressed them from our closets and they spent a day and night in the Samaritan Village orphanage, a home for abandoned children.  Finally the luggage arrived.  After being given only $50.00 because they had filled out one form (as they were told to do) for any inconvenience to purchase anything to wear or anything they needed (like contact solution for contact lenses). God blessed that couple. And Called to Serve. And the Tanzanians we met.

We traveled that Sunday to Longido and spent the next day, Monday, in very wet muddy bush country with a car causing us to think we had been sold bad fuel, we visited three homes and a church for away, meeting new friends.

Last night at the direction of Colossians 3:12-17, we were told, "Everything you say and everything you do should be done for Jesus our Lord."  We experienced a divine strength and presence when nothing was going right.

Ten minutes ago, I received a text from Mdori.  The young woman, who had been brought and laid at my feet as I taught and I was told "the church is doing exactly what you are teaching," died. Starvation was told to me to be the cause of her death.  It  had its negative affect on me. We toured Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Center in Moshi.  The young man in the
couple visiting us was a physical therapist from Lynchburg, Virginia, and people have been blessed by what he personally, hands on, did.  Praise God for Mark and Maria Phillips. Yes.  A lot that happened in the last nine days have not been the prettiest, sweetest, or greatest things in the world, but in God's eyes they were all "sweet smelling gifts."

Thank you for your prayers. Thank you for your financial gifts.  Please see all of this as God sees it and smells it.


They Honor Those Who Respect the Lord
--February 27 2010

                                                                                                                                                                              

          Psalm 15:4


     I learn something new every day, and the people who are teaching me do not know  they are teaching me anything.

 

            My head is scarred because I am one of the tallest people over here.  They have  security gates on practically everything.  I leave a little bit of flesh at all the gates, because I am slow to learn that I must duck before I enter any place with a security gate.  My latest mishap was going to a choo at a church where I preached.  I had to be anointed with salve and two band-aids.  I almost always have to kiss my knees to enter a boma.  I usually try to raise the thatched roof.  In this area, I am a slow learner.


      I am seated at a patrol station station.  I am having my car washed.  Tonight we will  pick up Mark and Maria Phillips (we have just learned they are stranded in London, so we will get them tomorrow morning, and we will go directly to Sambasha church.) They will be staying with us this week.  Mark is a physical therapist at Lynchburg General Hospital in Virginia.  The car has been fueled, oiled, pressure put in the tires and is now being washed.  The sun is shining bright.  The garage is a  busy place. There is much activity and lots of noise from lots of people.

 

     Literally from nowhere an angry crowd gathers.  I watch them as over 100 men run off.  The garage manager comes to me.  "A man has just killed a child (I learned it was another man - his brother).  Those men will catch him and take him to the police." She stands by me speculating about what has just happened.  We both look up to see the crowd returning with the man in tow.  I ask, "Where are they going?  I learn later he hid the body after killing the man.  "He will have to tell why he killed the person." I say, "They may kill him."  "If God wants it done, it will be done." She leaves to go home, because she is tired.


     My car is being dried.  Another car is having a dollar's worth of petrol put in it.  He drives off.  Another car just drives to the petrol pump.  A tire is being fixed.   Life is going on.  Somewhere down the road a crowd is questioning a murderer.  From where I am sitting nothing unusual has happened.  A mother drives into the garage.  She is driving a diesel Land Cruiser with three small children with her.  Nothing has happened to change life for anybody.  The mother dressed in a gold kanga and headdress with white shoes steps from her car and Fabeen begins rapidly, speeding, trying tohear or determine what is the matter with the car.  Three children, under three are riding with him, enjoying the ride.  I am sitting here trying to believe what I am seeing and hearing.

 

            As most know, my mother (90) died last night. A young pastor I met on a Crusade I preached in Mdori texted me two nights ago.  "Today the Lord revealed to me an aged lady close to you is in severe pain.  His hands reach you best.  Let's pray hard."  When he called me later, he was surprised to hear about my mother and her falls.  Yesterday, he told me to read Psalm 103.  This morning he texted me, "Don't tremble with fear nor be afraid; only believe.  Nothing is impossible with our lovely Lord Jesus.  Meditate on Isaiah 41;9-10,13. "You were in a faraway country, but I reached out to you.  I called you from that faraway place.  I said, 'You are my servant.  I chose you.  Don't worry. I am with you.  Don't be afraid.  I am your God."    I think it is interesting.  His name is Prince.  Two weeks ago when I met him, I told him of a singer in the USA named Prince.  His immediate response, "Invite him to Africa.  He will sing for us."  I said, "He does not sing Christian music."  In that distant village, far from civilization, this was said to me, "Then we will pray God will come into his heart and he will sing for Jesus."  In an African village, a world renown singer is being prayed for.  That young man did not know he was teaching me.

 

     A young waiter came to our table where he was waiting on us.  "You are Christians?" Where do you go to church?"  We told him that we were in a different church every Sunday.  Barbara said, "He preaches every week in a different church." "I want  to go with you."  His name is Severine and he will go to Nanja and a Maasai church next Sunday.  We met the young man last week. When the bill was being paid, arrangements for pick-up and all the details were made.  That young man is also my teacher.

 

      Whenever I go downtown, I have to pay to park.  I met a young woman who

 collects and lets me park in front of our bank.  She was new there two weeks

 ago.  Her name is Christina.  As I spoke to her and called her by name

yesterday, she told everyone on the  street that I had remembered her name. I didn't have the right change.  I told her that I would go back into the bank

and get the large bill changed.  When I returned, she smiled and said, "We

are friends.  If you had forgotten, it is okay."

 

I take our taka-taka (trash) weekly to a dumpster.  It is paid for each month.Saitoti works there.  He is not an educated man.  I asked Saitoti about his family.  He has three sons and they are young and at home.  It was ideal

for giving his boys a football our team in January had left.  Yesterday, he

asked for a Swahili Bible.  It amazes me where my teachers are.

 

         Thank you for your prayers.

 

         Thank you for your gifts.

 

         Thank you.  You are also my teachers.  And you didn't even know it.

thank Christ Jesus because He gave me this work of serving Him.



Called-to-Serve
--February 16 2010

"I thank Christ Jesus because He gave me this work of serving Him.  ( I Timothy 1:12 )

Why does God want me to see what I see?

I was asked to pray.

I prayed.

I folded back a blanket and saw a deformed baby.

I touched about 20 babies.

I held sick babies.

I hugged mothers.

I let little fingers grip my fingers.


I wasn't alone.  Others did the same things.

 I let a one-year-old boy touch the top of my head and I watched him as his mother carried him to each adult in that hospital room and that baby boy greeted every adult with a blessing touch.

 I saw a large growth, as big as the infant it was on.

I saw small children gasping for air.


      I said "No, I am sorry" (Hapana, poli sana.) to a mother who was asking for 5,000 shillings (about $5.00) because I cannot give $5.00 to the other twenty parents in that hospital, because I believe what I have been told, "Give one needy person $1.00 today, and there will be seven needy people in line tomorrow."


     Visiting Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Center (at the end of this month we take a visiting physical therapist from the USA there) four of us were given permission to come into the wards and to smile and to encourage and to pray for those children.


      I only confess how I felt when I left the six wards (about 21 children) and I saw deformed babies, and bodies with cancers and growths, and children with breathing difficulties, and large stomachs, and children with blood disorders.   The words of James came to the  front of my mind.  "Suppose a brother or sister in Christ comes to you in need of clothes or some- thing to eat.  And you say to them, 'God be with you!  I hope you stay warm and  get plenty to eat.'  But you don't help them, your words are worthless."

      Each person was comforted.  Each child was blessed.  Each prayer was sincere. The love in our hearts for those suffering in the hospital was genuine. But we did not alleviate the first pain or put to rest the fear in those eyes.


      If you are reading this, pray for those children, but also for the children in hospitals in your town in your country.  You can match what we saw.  I know that.  Do something.  Be there for those children, for their parents.  Do all you can to alleviate pain where you are.

Sunday, I saw six teenagers (13 - 16) on their knees before me.

     We went to a juvenile correction center Sunday afternoon..  We met eight teenagers from 13 to 16.  Each of them had been arrested by aunts, neighbors or parents.  As each child introduced himself or herself and told us why they were there, our hearts and thoughts were affected.  We heard awful stories from children, not accusing those who had arrested them but describing the circumstances around each arrest. Each of them will be incarcerated for three months before having to go to trial to be told if they are guilty or innocent.  We thanked God for the facility, because they will be cared for and they do have a place to sleep.  Not one of the twelve caused me to be afraid of them or caused me to think I was in the midst of young criminal minds.  They were quiet, polite teenagers.  The staff was caring.  We went with two ladies, Christiana and Joann, who go every Sunday to minister to those children.  

 

     One boy was placed there, because he is a blind 15 year-old. boy.  His parents made him leave the house.   In each case, there was no evidence - only the accusation and the arrest.  Two cell phones had disappeared.  One neighbor accused two of the young girls of stealing her clothes.  One young boy, only 13, was accused of stealing 600.000 shillings left in a neighborhood store. Two of the young men had made professions of faith on  previous visits.  I had no idea was was being said.  Six young people, three girls and three boys knelt in front of me with their heads bowed.  They wanted me to pray for them.  One of the ladies said the sinner's prayer and all 8, the 6 kneeling and the other two young men, the blind boy and the young man next to me repeated in Kiswahili that prayer.  Then, I was given the privilege to pray for those children.   And we are going back.  We wanted to take them all home with us.  They were fine young people. Adults had put them there.

 

     The final thing we have been allowed to see.  A monkey.  Our first.   On our property. In our back yard. There he was on the wall. We have a small place where banana trees have been planted and two of the trees are bearing bananas which will be ripe next month.  We also have three dogs and there is always dry food in the three pans outside for them always to have something to nibble on. We have been told that now that the monkey knows there is food always out and available,  he will return.  So we wanted to share that we have seen a monkey on our property.

     So we have seen things that have made our hearts hurt, but we have also seen things that have made us laugh. Thank you for your prayers and for your giving.  And pray, also, about visiting us.  God will bless  you with experiences you will never forget.



I Will Say, "Yes Lord."
--February 10 2010


Job 28:7 reads, "No falcon has ever seen it."  A falcon is known for acute vision from far-away distances.  Job speaks of things that cannot be seen.  It all depends on what you are looking at and why you are looking.

                                         Can a pigeon describe a fountain in a park?
                                               Does an eagle see a rose petal?
                              Does a flamingo see the bottom of the lake he stands in?
                                                 Does a duck see a cloud?
                                           Does a goose see an apple blossom?
                                            Can a pelican describe a palm tree?
                                      Does an ostrich see a mountain in the distance?
                                            Does a robin see a blade of grass?
                                            Does an owl see the stars at night?
                                               Does a seagull see a river?

                                Faith can be seen.  Hope can be seen.  Look at Love.

                     I will never be the same.  I saw and I want you to to see what I saw.

I was invited to preach a Crusade in Mdori and to teach a seminar on Christian Growth.  I was introduced to the Barbarig, Imbulu and Iraque tribes.  I probably am not spelling them right, but I saw and heard things I will never forget and what I saw and heard has made me more committed than ever to these people.  Most of the people I met cannot read or write.  They are living in conditions many people around the world would categorize as inhumane.  Good treatment of the cattle and goats comes first.  Children and women experience neglect and beating few people on earth could even imagine.  Christianity is a lifestyle that offends most of these people, yet the few (perhaps 200 who are Christian) are the most dynamic, joyful and sweetest people I have ever met.

I stayed with Bernard Gervas and his wife, Rosina.  His life has been threatened twice, just because he was preaching about Jesus.  They have been in Mdori about two years.  They have been asked to leave where they were renting four times.  "We don't want you in this village!"  They are a small couple, beautiful people, physically as well as spiritually. The government gave them property.  It was taken.  They have been asked to leave the village, because the community did not want them.  People I know, me included, would not function well when treated like this.  At least once a month a young wife comes to the church and to Bernard, because she has been beaten almost unconscious.  People, especially outsiders, do not interfere.  A husband has the right because he is the husband to do anything he wants to to his wife and children.

I walked to church with a twenty-year old wife, who had been beaten badly by her husband of one year.  He was a tall good-looking twenty-two-year-old who treated me kindly when I met him.  The abused wife was going to accompany me to Arusha as I traveled that day.  She was going to her sister.  At the bus stop, she did not show up, because he had come to the church and she had left with him.  Just last year, the pastor was called and she was found strapped to a tree,
badly beaten, because she had said to her husband, then only for a few months, "Don't hurt me again."  The elders of the village and the government officials told her she had no right to speak that way to her husband.  They felt she deserved to be beaten.  The wife does not speak back.  It is embarrassing to the man if his wife is rebellious in any way.  Her comment, to all men who heard it, was rebellion.

The Christians are dynamic.  They dance.  They sing.  They march.  They smile and laugh.  They kneel in public with raised hands.  No one who saw them worship would ever imagine what they had seen or what they had had done to them.

I was told of a Youth Camp.  It is a camp for 13 - 15 year-old girls. It is scheduled once a year.  The mothers prepare their daughters for it, even sew skirts they are required to wear and for one week every male in the area, old and young have their way with each girl at camp.  The happiest preacher, a young Barbarig, jumped and danced and smiled and led worship for all present in the outdoor crusade.  She had been through that camp.  I talked with this woman.  She is now in her late twenties.  She had also been required to become a second wife, but when she became a born again Christian, she left her village.  They let her go because the witch doctor said it was better for the village for her to be gone.  She is on a campaign, and will not leave the area, to bring Christianity to that faraway part of the world, but she is also on a campaign to help the women and girls  who are hurt everyday.   She is genuine in her joy.  She told of being dragged from her church with the intent of her abductors to kill her.  Her congregation of church friends saved her. I was in a nyumba with a young wife, dying of HIV/AIDS.  I experienced a demonic exorcism, with the serious
change of voice and facial contortions.  My cell phone rang and I went out of the nyumba.  As I returned, the grandmother had passed out and was lying on the floor.  Standing at the door watching and hearing it all were
two little girls, one a walking one-year-old, the second was her sister, a two-year-old.  I picked up the baby and took the hand of the toddler.  We went and sat on a mat under a large tree.  An English speaking old man tried
to calm two frightened babies who could not understand a word I was saying.  I prayed my tone of voice and my touching, holding and loving those precious children would be understood.   The three of us sat under a sky that was getting dark and we could only see a small lighted can of kerosene in the doorway of their nyumba.

Finally the grandmother came out.  The mother was dying.  The father had infected six other women with the same disease in that village.  One of the most emotional moments came the next day as I was teaching the healing of the paralytic and the four men brought their friend to Jesus.  I was in the middle of that story when a straw mat was brought and laid down on the ground in front of me, and several people who had left the church earlier were bringing that young mother.  We stopped and had prayer, immediately.  It was moving for me, because I was in the middle of a praying believing group.   My interpreter spoke to the side to me.  They are doing what you are teaching.


One day I visited a boma and I met a seven-year-old boy who had been born with no mouth.  The boma was a Barbarig compound.  On a bed there lay a young man, unconscious.  Agatha and her husband Simon, married for five years had opened their home to the young deformed boy and to the unconscious son and his mother (they had been living there two years.)  They built them a nyumba and was taking care of them.  And they were praising God for the opportunity to serve Him those ways.

The mother of that young woman was named Restitute Majengo.  Now she was an older woman, but she had been the eighth wife of a witch doctor.  She had been orphaned at age 7, and that 72 year-old witch doctor wanted her for his wife.  I was told that the child would marry him to take care of him and to feed him (Thank God.  Nothing sexual.)  He had died, and she had remarried.  She had Agatha when she was had married the second time..  She had mothered 7 children.  She was a smiling proclaimer of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and volunteered to sing and to march whenever she was given the opportunity.  She did not miss a single session (8 all together).  She and the ladies of her village sang melancholic somber music. That is how it sounded to me, but the audience applauded and shouted.  She had taken satanic demonic words and songs and put Jesus Christ in them.  The audience recognized the songs, but loved the changed wording.  I enjoyed the choirs who never sing without moving or without dancing.  I watched as fifteen to twenty singers. paraded all over that outdoor area and together jumped up and clapped (catching satan) and wrestled with him and threw him to the ground.  Then all together they stomped him into the dirt. Pastors from the whole region came.  I was given one of them as my personal interpreter.  He sat with me and explained what was happening and what was being said.  He was the pastor of Gift Ministries Network Intouch.  He was laughing so hard that he could not translate.  He was enjoying what the people were doing. As I have said, few that were present could read or write, but what they sang or testified would have been embarrassing to scholastic theologians, who have written books.  I conclude with translations of what they sang or said.
     
"When the devil comes in the air, smack him.  When the devil come on the ground, stomp him. When the devil comes in the middle, strike him."

       "My heart longs to see Jesus."
       "Fill me with your joy."
       "You have changed me.  You can change others."
       "All tribes may be saved; all people may be saved."
       "No one can protect like you, God."
       "Come to celebrate Jesus."
       "Pray for yourself."
       "I'm going to heaven."
       "If a mother disowns, Jesus paid for my transportation to heaven.  He does not disown me."
       "I have come from Egypt and I cannot go back."
      "Focus only on Jesus."
    Eight of them had walked all day to get to the Crusade meetings.  They did not miss a meeting all week.

It is impossible to comment on all the events I saw.

Every night after 8:30 P.M.dinner of rice and beans, maybe a little goat meat, dark shadows could be seen jumping  by one kerosene lantern.  Jumping shadows.  Harmonious singing, "It could go on all night," I was told but they do not want to miss your conferences.  It was very humbling to me.  It effected my praying and my teaching and my preaching.  At 4:30 A.M. every morning of the crusade,
everyone went to the church in an open field far from the village and prayed until daybreak.  I preached but I was told after the first day, a forty-five sermon was too short.  My translator told them "He's an American.  He says it fast."


The most memorable experience began a seminar teaching day.  There were 56 people present. They were told to cry for others to be saved.  And all present cried.  Tears flowed.  Uncontrollable weeping was not just heard, but done.  It was the first time in my 45 years of preaching that a group
cried for the salvation of others.  The leader said, "There is somebody out there who does not know Jesus.  Hear my cry, O God, and touch that sister or that brother."

My eyes were opened.  These are only a few things I saw.

Thank you for your prayers.
Thank you for your financial help.

Pray hard for yourselves.  If you want to serve or minister in this area, let me know.

I want you to see. Several sessions, teaching and preaching, were closed with exuberant song, "I will say, Yes, Lord."


Men Render Me A Heartless Service--January 28 2010

                     What is life all about?

                     Serving God and serving Him by serving others.

                     Part of my daily routine is to begin the day with a page from Thomas a'Kempis  "Imitation of Christ" and to end the day with a page of "Imitation of Christ."

       On today's (January 28, 2010) pages:

            "Many would rather listen to the world than to God."

            "Who is there that serves and obeys Me in all things?"

            "My promise never fails."

            "What I have promised, I will grant; what I have said, I will fulfill."

            "My words are not to be weighed by man's understanding."

             "If I only hear with the outward ear, and am not inwardly enkindled, I die.
"

                    The sun is shining.  By 10:00 A.M. it will be very hot.  Zakayo Leida has called.  He is  from Loliondo.  For four days, Leida showed me his world.  I sat on a bench in a boma.  My kiswahili is kidoga sana (very small).  I sat visiting Mama Peter, her daughter and her son, a Maasai moran.  I  was given a rooster, a gift that was dinner two nights later.  The smiles and the greetings were genuine, even if the setting, far from civilization, was very quaint, very primitive.  God was there.  There was no floor, no furniture, no neighbors, no well, no grass; only three people with goats in the next room
and six boney cows outside the front door.  The animals showed no interest.  I walked with two Maasai morans.  They spoke broken English, but smiled and said they were my bodyguards. Although they were concerned about the welfare of this old man, because I was asked every  few feet how I was doing.  We approached another boma, where the leader of women in that
area lived. She had four chairs in her nyumba, and though she spoke no English, I left with a   note written in good English and it was her invitation for me to come back.

            Wednesday I leave for a week to preach a crusade in Mdori.  I go on an
African bus to be met beside an empty dirt road, to walk back to a village and to stay with Bernard and Rosina Garvas.  "I fear no evil for Thou art with me."

           Kanaankira is my interpreter at Neema (Hope) PAMC this Sunday.  We
(Kanaankira, Godfrey, Barbara and me) travel to Babati and another seminar there.

           Two ladies from Phoenix, Arizona come on February 11.  We will
go to a local jail where five-year-olds, seven-year-olds and twelve-year-olds have been arrested and jailed and live.  I talked to Vomo and his wife, JoAnn, this week to plan that. JoAnn will fill the vacancy on our Advisory Board, here in Tanzania.  We are planning a Christian Ethics Conference for February 14-19 in two towns with interested invited guests from the USA. We have lawyers (male and female), police academy teachers (male and female), prison chaplains, business men and ladies, clergymen from the USAwho are interested and will come.  On February 13, 2010, we meet with the Advisory
Board to plan the conference.  The police chief in Moshi and a couple Tanzania lawyers are excited about this.  Guests will come to stay with Called to Serve and it will be from February 11 - 23, 2011 - travel time included.  We want to emphasize Christian Ethics in all areas of Tanzanian life in Moshi and in Arusha.

            A Growth Seminar for the Maasai in Nanja with Immanuel Laizer is
planned for a week after Easter, this year.  Immanuel emailed me yesterday and a baptism and the first Lord's Supper (ever) will be a part of that four day conference, Barbara leading the women, and me leading the men.

            Our concern:  energy and health to do it all.  God will supply.

            We ask all who read this to pray.  Not just go through the motions
or saying prayer promises to us and not do it.  But pray.  Continue to give. 

They have nothing to contribute.  So please give, so bus tickets and food and equipment can be dependable for God's work to be done.

                      Pray for -
                              Mdori
                              Bernard, Rosina, Patricia, Esther, and Benjamin
                              Evangelistic TAG
                              Babati
                              Emmanuel / Saayo
                              Kanaankira / Neema
                              Godfrey
                              Kikatiti
                              All Nations - Vomo - JoAnn - The Street Children's Jail
                              Longido Pentacostal / Robert Mremi
                              Sambasha Baptist / Saitoti Mollel
                              Maria and Mark Phillips (from Lynchburg, Virginia)
                              Margaret and Marilyn (from Phoenix, Arizona)
                              FPCT /  Ezekiel
                              Family Church First Baptist
                               Immanuel Laizer (Now a student in a Bible College in Tanga)

     I just read this Scripture this morning and I close my article with it.

                     "We heard that God is with you."  Zechariah 8:23



It Matters To God
--January 26 2010



     I stumbled as I walked, because it was four-thirty in the morning.  I could not see the ruts in the road, caused by heavy rains.  Blindly I walked almost falling when there was no ground where I stepped and jawing my teeth and entire body when the ruts rose, pushed up mounds of unseen dirt, and my foot stepped suddenly onto the elevated earth.  Fortunately, no other living creature was present to see my unsteady stagger.  I was to meet a taxi at the petrol station at 5:00 A.M. in order to be carried to the bus terminal to catch a bus at 6:00 A.M.  Because side streets do not have names and houses have no numbers, it is more convenient to direct the taxi to a petrol station with a name.
It could be found easier.  Directions are kept to a minimum in Africa.

  Arriving at the bus stand, there was no life.  The bus was alone in the dark. 
I sat on a concrete step under a light, reading.  A Maasai was asleep in the shadows, under his red plaid shuka. No other person was in sight.  It was 5:30 A.M.  At 6:00 A.M. people began to arrive. A second bus drove up. 
It became loud with foreign language.  Both buses filled quickly. Bread was hanging from the overhead handrails.  Luggage, bags of grain, and boxes of all sizes filled the center aisle of the bus.  It was friendly banter, but it was utter chaos. Two attendants were there to take the tickets, but many of the riders stood and had no tickets.

     A young preacher from Wasso/Loliondo, Tanzania was to travel with me, to be my bodyguard and interpreter, but our seats were taken and he sat at the back of the bus,
once my seat was returned.  With all the noise and the hectic busyness, no one knew or even attempted to know what was happening.  I had my seat.  It was my space for the next ten and a half  hours, when we would arrive in Wasso, Tanzania.  I was to teach a Christian Growth Seminar in Soit Sambu and a one-day Pastor's Leadership Conference in Sakala.  Ten people became professing believers from that first seminar.


     Next week I preach a four-day crusade in Mdori and lead a seminar on Christian Growth for three days.  I will preach next Sunday in Mdori.  Bernard Gervas is the young pastor that I met and worked with in Dar es Salaam in 1995.  I will be with him and his wife,Rosina, and their three children, Patricia, Esther and Benjamin all week.

     Gorgeous is inadequate to describe the  country.  Ngorogoro Crater, an animal preserve in a volcano, and the eastern part of the Serengeti  was  the country I was driving through. Herds of giraffes, zebra, wildebeest, and Johnson gazelles permeated five and a half hours through the Serengeti.  We left the road and we drove on green natural animal-infested plains with blue skies that touched green earth for over five hours.  I spent the first night
in Wasso; the second night with a dirt floor in a mudded stick house in Soit Sambu, and the next two nights in Wasso near Loliondo.  It was an adventure I can't describe and one I will never forget.  Pictures do not do justice to what I saw.  I can only thank God for the experiences.  Only He appreciates because He let me be part of it.  As I stood next to a mud hut at dusk one night, I could see flat green land for miles.  I had the strangest sensation I was in Wyoming in 1700.  It was empty far west.   I imagined the presence of unseen Indians.  That night I slept on a cot with fierce hard winds blowing around that dirt three-room dwelling, Paul and Cecilia and their baby daughter across the way in another room like mine.  I stood under a starlit sky no poet or artist could capture on paper.  It all was a time of worship and praise.

     I thank God for you, because you are giving me the opportunities to see,
to teach and to preach. I have even picked out my burial place, high on a hill in Nanja, overlooking an  African valley that is breathtaking. Thank God for your prayers and for your gifts.   I only wish you could feel and experience it as completely as you are allowing me. God bless you.   The Maasai I met, I have been told, are from the original Maasai in Africa.  They are a beautiful people. 

I thank God for all of them and for you for letting me get to know them.

Be who you are . . .
and say what you feel . . .
because those that matter . . .
don't mind...
and those that mind . . .
don't matter...

 



Don't Worry About Anything
--January 14 2010


    
         Because Barbara is having some dental problems, I was in the dentist's office at 7:30 A.M. this morning. They  are Seventh Day Adventists.  The appointment was made yesterday, but it had to be postponed, due to an illness. The dental problem worsens the sickness.  However, I have met some of the kindest Tanzanians.  The gate guard. The yardman at the dental complex.   The receptionist.  A young office worker who helped me this morning.  I left the office at 7:50  A.M., having changed the appointment until 8:00 A.M. tomorrow.  As I walked to the car, five female workers began to sing a hymn in English.  I had noticed one of the attendants passing out the hymn books as I was changing the appointment.  The dental staff was beginning their day's work in a dental office with worship, singing a hymn.

            This morning, prior to going to the dental office, I had read Philippians 4:5 (The Everyday Reading Bible).  "Don't worry about anything, but pray and ask God for everything you need, always giving thanks for what you have.  And because you belong to Christ Jesus, God's peace will stand guard over all your thoughts and feelings."
  

         We should not be here.  But we are.  God is using you to make it possible for us to be here.

         Yesterday, standing in a long line to get my Tanzanian driver's license, a young woman helped me with directions.  Two young men invited me to get in front of them.  Two other men helped me translate and to fill out a Tanzanian application form.
  

        I was stopped on the street by another young man, who was calling "Professor." I had met him at a church in Ngaramtoni.  Asking about my wife, I asked about his.  He is now the father of a one and a half year-old son, but I had met him and his wife just before she delivered.  


        A new restaurant, Africafe, opened yesterday and I went into meet two of the finest young women, Victoria and Rashida.  Teams from the USA will be taken there.  At the post office, I purchased six stamps and was treated kindly by two postal workers.

        Smiles.  Greetings.  Warm kindnesses.  Acceptance. Today I have become conscious of the daily treatment that I get, and it is the forefront of my thinking.  I do not deserve any of it.  Buying dog food at a local grocery became a happy experience as I was surrounded by the clerks, and the bag boys with the brightest smiles and their genuine warm reception.  They made this old man feel good.  Leaving that group who made me feel they were glad to see me, I passed Joyce, a seller of roses, sitting  behind her flowers.  She is also a special person to know.
  

      God is good.  All the time.  All the time, God is good.

      I began to make a list of all the ways He blesses me.

        I leave for Ngorogoro Saturday to lead a three day seminar on Humility, Faith and Salvation at Soit Sambu Pentecostal Church and the Maasai.

         I was called yesterday by Bernard Gervas and I will preach an evangelistic crusade at Mdori in February.

         We were emailed form Arizona and asked to plan for the two ladies from there, to visit an incarceration center for street children and to visit the Maasai in Kimokouwa. Arrangements for a week have been made for a hospital physical therapist, coming the first of March.

   Nightly, I text encouraging words all over Tanzania to people who have blessed my life.  I want Christ to bless their lives.  I want Christ to bless your lives.

     All of these personal positive relationships have been orchestrated by God. Aren't you glad to be an important person in all that is happening?



Because I Saw It
--January 9 2010

Note from Elton---I wrote this while I was in Longido last week. A young interpreter, a Maasai traveled with us.  As I took him him one night, he spoke the words that gave me the title for this article.  He is a student at Tanga Bible College.  I hope to take a team to his church in Nanja.


          The moon is so bright I can read Called to Serve on the decals on either side of the car.  I sit in a living room of a village elder.  It is 10:00 P.M.  Outside twenty-one children (I shook every hand.) noisily sing and dance, jump and stomp.  Rhythmically their feet hit the ground and the joyous singing is repetitious.  I met three other village elders.  John, who owns the boma and the nyumba where I sit and have chai with them, is the elected government official.  He tells me of the upcoming election this year.   Then he tells me of the awful famine and drought, and that most of his twenty-one children cannot further their education because of the deaths of most of  his cattle (120 of his 130 died for lack of water and grass).   Conditions  there have put all of their lives in serious danger.   It is warm in the house and the lantern light makes the room temperature almost unbearable.

        We are going to show The Jesus Film to a population so far from civilization we had to drive for miles in the dark and make our own road as we traveled here.   A team from America has spent two days putting a concrete floor in Kimokouwa  Kanisa, out in the bush about 30 kilometers from the Kenyan border.   The day began at 6:20 A.M. in Longido, Tanzania.  It ended at 2:00 A.M.  Today is January 1, 2010.  There are at least 100 people, standing in the yard with the moon shining bright.  A soft breeze is blowing the colorful garments of the traditional  Maasai attire.  They are all dressed that way.  One girl voluntarily sings and all present echo in response.  The harmony is exquisite.


        A television set has been placed on the porch, facing the audience seated or standing in the yard.   A generator can be heard in the distance to power the showing of The Jesus Film.  Unseen to the eye are goats and sheep.  Bells can be heard.  The stars fill the bright night.  Mount Longido is a large dark shadow.  The week has been full of indescribable sites.  Probably no one notices.

         It started on the previous Sunday.  A choir in St.Andrews Anglican formed a large V at the front of the church and the choir director in falsetto sang all four parts softly, but loud enough for his choir to hear and to harmonize.   A two-year-old joined his mother in the V-shaped choir.  She sang tenor with the men and her son copied.  He participated.  His movements and his rhythm captivated me.  He duplicated every movement the men made.  Now it is Friday night.  It is dark.  The Maasai harmonize.  The deep male harmony is accented by the soprano choruses.  The sound and the sight are things television shows and performances done at amusement parks, on ships, in theaters rehearse for months before they are performed. These people sing and harmonize so easily.  It is a beautiful thing to hear and to see.
  

         The highlight of the days was a baptismal service.   The outdoor baptistry had been filled.  The water was brought to it twice a day.  The baptisms were done in the same water that was used to complete the concrete church floor.   Thirty-two people were taken through the baptismal waters. One from the USA wanted to be baptized in Africa.  One of our interpreters wanted to have a believer's baptism.  Kimokouwa Kanisa had 30 candidates. Worship was conducted under the trees where the church had begun.  Church benches were brought out.  A choir of thirty-six danced only as the Maasai can dance and jumped and marched in thick red dust for nearly an hour.  Testimonies were given.   Maasai and  Americans worshiped together.   A brief baptismal message was delivered.  A line of 32 was formed at the baptistry.   Each candidate was given a white Maasai cross necklace when they came from the water.  To remember the date, January 1, 2010, each person that was baptized was given a baptismal certificate.

           Three other highlights were the three visits to orphanages, the first to One Heart Source (housing 20), the second to Cradle of Love (housing 35), the third to Samaritan Village (housing 27).  They are all beautiful children, and taken good care of.  The distributing of mosquito nets to Augustine Perfect Secondary School and enough nets for  for Samaritan Villages' new dormitory.  The house they have now will be used for the babies.  The new facility will house 50 abandoned children.    With us was a young Maasai pastor, Immanuel Laizer, from Nanja, who was seeing and experiencing all of this for the first time.  He was asked, "Why are you being so affected?"  Immanuel said, "Because I saw it."  If you could only see it, it would change the way you think.

           Thank you for praying and giving to the ministry of Called to Serve.  Only God can adequately express His gratitude to you.  Our words of thanksgiving to you are not enough, but we say them anyway.  Called to Serve is blessed by you who pray and give.  Deuteronomy 2:18 reads, "Do what is right and good in God's sight, and it will go well with you."



Better Than A Slave
-- December 17 2009

God gives me ideas each time I write.  Hopefully it is read and it motivates.

Philemon 1:15-16  -  "One simus was separated from you for a short time.  Maybe that happened so that you could have him back forever, not to be just a slave, but better than a slave, to be a dear brother."

Better than a slave.

See deeper.

Ray Boltz sang, "When others saw a shepherd boy, God could see a king."  Others and God were looking at David.

In the case of Onesimus, others saw a slave;  Paul wanted Philemon to see a brother in the faith.

When men saw slaves, they saw signs of money, ways to become rich, ways to do farming cheaper.   Few saw men and women and children.

When God looks at the same person you and I are looking at, what does He see?


God sees potential.  God sees a good mind.  God  looks on the heart.  God sees deeper.

Daily I put on the brakes to avoid hitting a piki-piki (motorbike) that swerves in front to me to get through the heavy traffic.   It frightens me, for I saw nine young men with broken limbs in a hospital hallway, enduring the awful consequences of piki-piki accidents.

I sat with a young man who had not eaten for a week,because he had no job and he and two other preachers were going to a leadership conference. And they will sing  and dance and jump.   They will be full of excitement.

I emailed Georgia, USA, to help feed an entire village, Kikatiti.  God sees the hunger and He knows how to help.

Mark Marenja and Tunaka and Samuel.  God understood what they were saying. I finally did.  They had come from Ngorogoro, where I will teach in January.  I saw three young men, who I did not understand.  God saw excited witnesses for His gospel in that Maasai part of Tanzania.

At a bus stand, I saw Daniel Tumakonoi and his mother and his sister.  Most saw the stranded threesome.  God let me see a mother and her two children.

A baby, Elijah, was abandoned a week ago and left on a lady's doorstep.  He was placed in Samaritan Village yesterday.

I sat in the coolness of this morning and expressed gratitude to God for allowing me to see the Tanzanian as He sees them.

Luis, Linda, Sofia, Mama Shabani, Makore, hug or shake our hands tightly every time they see us.    Affection is not shown here.  Thank God for teaching us the healing even witnessing opportunity of care shown by a hug or a meaningful handshake.  The obvious show of a Germ X bottle, the disgust at the choos, negate and sends messages, "I'm better than you.  You're slave material."   Paul convicted me again this morning, "He's better than a slave.  He's a brother in the faith."

We met our new neighbor yesterday, Alice Masse from France, who makes pastries.  She became physically excited to learn we were celebrating epiphany with a king's cake on January 6, 2010.  Jesus is special to us and obviously to her.  She wants to go with us on some of our mission work.  We met our French neighbor, and because she makes cakes, that is most that I saw.  But God saw it all.   He orchestrated the meeting.  Her husband is an airplane pilot and they will be in Arusha for three years.

Christmas is next week.  The house is decorated inside and outside, because of the hard work Barbara has done.  The Tanzanians see American decorations, but the Christ is shown to all who question.  It truly is the season to celebrate Jesus, the reason for the season.  I will be preaching again this year, but I will be at Peter Undole's church and will preach a message on "Bethlehem."  We do not know what you see in the USA, but praise God, He sees deeper and He is teaching us to look inside others.


Thank you for your continual praying for us.  Thank you for your generous gifts.  We especially thank God for the new givers in North Carolina and for all they are doing to make Called to Serve an instrument that God is using to bless many. Merry Christmas.  You see those two words, as only that.  They are said at this time of year, by so many people  Look deeper. They are two words that say from our hearts how grateful we are and we want the Christ to be real to you and to bring happiness to your lives because He gave us His life. 


He made us all Better Than A Slave.



God Bless Me To Be A Blessing
-- December 12 2009


         He was wearing a yellow shirt.  He had both eyes shut tight. His face looked pained.  Both his hands were fists and he beat upon his chest.  He began to dance, raising his hands, almost touching the blue canvas tarp that was overhead, protecting him from the bright sun and ten minutes later from a horrendous downpour of rain.

        He was one of nineteen young Maasai men seated to the left in the men's section.  All of them were equally as animated.  His western dress and his neon yellow shirt caused him to stand out from the other Maasai men, who were dressed in red shukas with extended earlobes that swung wildly as they all danced and sang.

        To my right were about 50-60 women, all dressed traditionally, except one, dressed in western clothes.  She was also noticeable, because she was the only woman present with a baby, which she was feeding every time I looked in her direction.  This was a Maasai village.  It was very colorful.  At least twenty-five children gyrated in the center section of the room.  Two worship leaders were on the platform. They each held mikes.  Two large speakers deafened me, but stirred the crowd into a loud singing worship frenzy.  Above it all were the two pastors shouting and doing their own thing.
I was the keynote speaker at this Christian Growth Seminar.

       I stood between two interpreters, Kiswahili on my right;  Maasai on my left.  What always amazes me is how contagious such an atmosphere is.  I got into the rhythm and found myself doing dramatic things to emphasize what I was teaching.  
  

        Often I am reminded I am in Africa.  Usually I am most aware of my audience, and know when and how to change pace to keep an audience with me.  A lady fell asleep on the second row.  I had not seen her until her pastor, my Maasai interpreter stepped off the pulpit platform and smacked her on the top of her head. She awoke with no idea where she was, but she listened for the balance of the seminar.  (When I realized what had happened, I smiled to myself.  How many preachers in the USA would get away with slapping a sleeping church member during a sermon?) I continued teaching.  A lady stood and left the congregation. As she returned to her seat, the pastor began to scold her.  What I had said had been interpreted in Kiswahili.  But the Maasai pastor told me (in English) that he had told her not to interrupt the class again.  Then he interpreted what I had said in Maasai for all present to know what I was teaching.  The interesting thing was that that lady was one of the most active, verbal, participants in the seminar.  It was a three day seminar.  She sat in the same seat every day.
  

      Lunches were served each day. Day one was chicken on rice.  I could not bite the chicken.  I was told later it had been deliberately boiled until it was so hard chewing wood blocks would have been easier to bite.  The Maasai believe the struggle to eat the chicken makes it even better.  Day two, I had a goat slaughtered and served with rice and greens.  Lunch three was machande - maize and ground nuts over rice.


       Invitations to go to two other Maasai churches were given.  I was also invited to go to Kenya.  It is my policy not to say, "yes" until I  see where I am going.  We have been praying for rain for four months.  It rained there three times during that seminar.  There is no describing the mud or how slippery it becomes.  I was to be at home in Arusha at 5:00 P.M.   I arrived at a church where I had been invited to preach and to visit in February.  It was in a most beautiful part of Africa and it was 5:00 P.M. by the time we had skidded and slipped there.  The entire church was waiting for me.  I was asked to share something from the Bible.  I was in mid-sermon when my cell phone rang.  The worship service concluded and I and the six with me were brought dinner.  I praise God we reached the highway before dark, or we would have been stranded in some of the vastest. yet one of the most beautiful places, far from anything called civilization.

      On the Friday of the meeting, I was invited to a boma to meet the family of one of the young men I was teaching.  I have pictures of dead cattle, and rain collection holes where the Maasai drink until it is dry.  I was also asked to give a message to about 35 in that boma.

   They closed the seminar with prayers.  All the men came forward first.  All the women came forward second.  All the secondary students came forward third. All the small children came forward last.  Everyone in that meeting was touched and prayed for.  Then they closed in song.  My Kiswahili interpreter said to me, "They are singing 'God bless me to be a blessing.'"

   I thank God for all of you who pray and give.  You are a blessing.



Fix My Wanter-- November 30 2009


I just read "Lord, what I need is to get my 'wanter' fixed.  I am captive to my own wants.  In Jesus' name, I ask You, O God, to fix my 'wanter.'" 


We (Barbara and I) only want to please God and to serve Him.  That is our primary want.  On December 19, 2009, Barbara and I will have been in Tanzania three years.  We realize that that, alone, is a miracle.  I think we want what God wants for us.  People think and do things they want to do, because they think it is what we want and what God wants.  Our prayer is "Help us to see what God wants."


         We drove to Longido Saturday on very rough roads.  We were exhausted when we arrived back in Arusha from riding on a washboard-bouncy dirt road for two hours and ten minutes.  Air conditioning and smooth highways are non-existent.  A Maasai young woman waved as we passed.  She was overjoyed that two old white people waved back.  She didn't want much.  We always carry snacks and water as we travel.  We stopped to give three little goat herders thirty cents.  We stopped to give another little boy what was left of our water.  We stopped to be blessed by two Maasai women when they shook Barbara's hand and said "Asante sana (thank you)" for two half-full Pringle cans and an unopened bag of chips.  It was embarrassing, it was so simple, but it was more than they had or wanted to have. 


         Today (Sunday) at Shalom Christian Center, 13 choir members rejoiced in their singing and worship, not thinking about their wants.  They just wanted to please God.  About 100 in attendance shouted for joy.  The early service speaker, Jeremiah, stayed and sat next to me.  He could not be still he was so full of energy and joy.  I learned at lunch with him that he is a widower, a young man whose wife was killed in 2004, and now their daughter is 5 and she lives in Kenya with Jeremiah's parents.  He was dynamic in his preaching.  I will lead a Christian Growth Seminar at his church, Deliverance Maasai in Nanja, Tanzania from Thursday - Saturday, December 3-5.  I will preach in his church December 6.  Also at lunch was Ezekiel, Jeremiah's interpreter.  He is also the pastor of FPCT (Free Pentecostal Church of Tanzania).  I will meet at his church this week, Thursday, and will preach for him in February.  We will set the date this week.  None of these preachers get paid to preach.  God supplies all their wants.  They just want to serve Him.  There is no describing the energy and the excitement to serve God.  They are a simple people.  My mother used to say to me when I was at home, "Don't let your wants hurt you."   That came to mind as I met with people who are satisfied with so little.                             


Wants:
  School fees for Lot and Matthias
Three orphans to be helped (We have been asked to do this by people in the US.

                  A seminar on Christian Growth at a Maasai
                  A hug and a visit to his uncle and his parents from an old preacher
                  A visit to an invalid
                  A visit to a chicken farmer
                  A tour of a piece of land in the Tanga area
                  A new outdoor kitchen to be built
                  A cement floor in the Kimokouwa Kanisa
                  Water, trucked in
                  New books (50) for Standard 5 (fifth grade) in Longido
                  A word of encouragement
                  A video of their worship sent to the states
                  A map of Israel from an encyclopedia
                  Three sewing machines, now there are five, with sewing supplies, enough for six months, to help young women stay busy in Monduli
          

Their wants are so trivial in comparison to our wants.  God will supply them all.  Thank you for your prayers.  Thank you for your financial gifts.  We are so grateful, because we know it is difficult for you.  Thank you for buying the jewelry.  What you paid for the jewelry will begin a business for 17 Monduli Maasai ladies.  Five sewing machines, material and two locker chests of sewing supplies have started a class of sewing and they will sell all they make.  It is a way to help protect but also it will give many young women a way to make a living.  Called to Serve is glad to serve, the Tanzanians and God.  They are the only ones who get the benefit.  We are there to supply, and we do not expect anything but smiles in return.  May God be honored as He uses Called to Serve to bless others and to glorify His name.  Know that you are a vital part of this ministry. 


Thank you for allowing us to represent you.  Meet their wants. That is all we want.  300 mosquito nets will be given to needy families, given by you.   Praise God for your help in meeting wants (actually needs).  Truly "the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. 


God, You really do want me (us) to be like Jesus.  I want that, too.jah feared




The Breathings of the Divine Whisper-- November 18 2009  


            Elijah feared for his life and he hid in a cave.  God came to him and asked, "What are you doing here?"  It was a still small voice, not an earthquake or a strong wind. It was barely a whisper and Elijah heard.

       What are you doing here?  My mind and my heart magnify the whys as to why God speaks so low, and we sometimes do not hear.

            Shalom Center, a home for street children has just bought property in Kisongo, just outside of Arusha.  I took Sylvester Sulle, the headmaster of Augustine Perfect Secondary School to see Shalom's  kitchen.  It was measured and pictures were sent to the Lambda Team coming in late December. Sylvester loved the kitchen, but he wanted to see the dorms, because at our last visit to Augustine Perfect, we learned that Sylvester had been given a vision to house his students, to protect them.   God used
Called to Serve.  I was glad to be listening.

            I will be going with Richard, the director of Shalom Center to Kisongo and Called to Serve may help with teams constructing some of the buildings at the new Shalom site.

            Arrangements have been made to distribute 240 mosquito nets in January, 60 at Shalom Center, 60 at Augustine Perfect, 60 at Samaritan Village and their new facility, and 60 at Chiswea, a rehabilitation center for street children.


            A little infant girl, named Angel, was left at the gate of Shalom Center this past June.  A CTS team member is sponsoring her.  Uncovering her asleep was an experience we'll not forget.

            God is whispering.  We have to listen, very intently.  It is amazing the loud whispers of the world.  Our life's choices drown out the whispers of God.

            A young teenage boy, Daudi, at Chiswea, is a God-blessed artist and he will illustrate my writings.  I heard God's whisper to let the world see that talent.

            I know better than most that I do not listen as I should to the Divine whispers of God.  I am distracted daily by the whispers and even the shouts of the world that get my attention.

            A seminar is planned on Humility, Salvation, Faith and Leadership.  It has been placed on the calendar for the Maasai on Ngorogoro in January.  It happened by my teaching at Youth with a Mission last month.  The potential of work in that area with the Maasai and pastor Mark is something
I did not plan.

           To teach English at Nyumba ya Mungu, Barbara and I will use the Bible.  It will be practical English, but all the reading matter will be biblical.  
           You have to listen more carefully.  God is speaking and oftentimes life as we know it makes it hard to hear Him.

            Get off the mission compound.  Get out there where the people are.
              The cell phone sounded one bell at 7:30 A.M. Sunday morning ( November 15).  It told me a text message had arrived.  A whisper.  I thought so.  "When are you going to preach at Kilimamota TAG church again?"  I texted Lother, "I will call you and we will meet to plan it."   Mikaeli Tatile
from Kimokouwa comes Tuesday to Arusha to plan the New Year's Eve worship celebration and the showing of The Passion of Christ at Kimokouwa Kanisa la Kibatisti.  Sunday, November 22, the sermon, "To Be Set Free" is ready for St. Andrews Anglican.  The Divine whispers cross
denominational lines.
          

God be praised.  Jesus Christ be made known. The Holy Spirit be pleased

               "Blessed are the ears which catch the breathings of the Divine whisper and pay no heed to the whispers of the world."

"Shut the doors of your senses, that you may be able to hear what the Lord God speaks within you."

--Thomas a'Kempis




Among The Highlights, A Birth.-- October 11 2009  

   

"It is no great thing to live peaceably with the good and the gentle. But to be able to live in peace  with those who are hard and obstinate undisciplined and contrary is a great grace, a highly praiseworthy line of conduct.

There are some who are at peace in themselves and live at peace with others. There are some who neither have peace in themselves nor leave others in peace. They are a burden to others and a greater burden to themselves. All our peace in this life is humbly bearing not in escaping the things we do not like."---Thomas a'Kempis


            Chris Johns and Brian Dobler boarded an Ethiopian airline this afternoon, heading for Raleigh, North Carolina, after seven full days of seeing, meeting, talking, photographing, the clean water needs throughout Tanzania.  Two dynamic Christians, who left all who met them with that blessed sense of peace. God blessed Chris with a vision - the Water 2 Wine Project.  Christ's first miracle in Cana was put on Chris' heart.  The Association of Restaurants across America has been invited and soon it will be actively collecting a quarter per table as restaurant customers drink clean water wherever they eat.  The quarters will be used to dig clean water wells all over the world.  Coming with Chris was Brian Dobler, whose photography will show the water needs in
Tanzania.


            These two young men put foot on African soil Tuesday, November 3.  It will mean nothing to any of you who read this article, but names will be introduced to you as places Chris and Brian visited. They went to Monduli, talked with Maji Tech, a clean water well company, talked to James Mganga and representatives of Safe Water, Limited, from Morogoro and they saw pictures of present digs in and around Morogoro.  They visited Longido, a famine area, and Kimokouwa.  They saw and photographed 28 zebras
who had died for lack of water.  They visited two street children homes and saw their water supply.  They visited two orphanages interviewed at mountain streams, people at a well at a private home.  They saw city wells, river water and lake water being collected for use in nearby nyumbas (homes).  Dead animals were all along the routes that were traveled.  Cholera is rampant, an epidemic at Nyumba ya Mungu.   We even gave a ride to a young mother and her sick baby returning from a hospital.
         

            On Saturday, November 7, we went to Tarangire.  It is a game preserve, named for the Tarangire River, now only a small stream of water because it is so dry.  Water is needed for all life.    As we were going through the park, the driver stopped and pointed. "She has just given birth."  An impala.  We watched as she cleaned her minute old baby and we stayed until her baby was on its feet. The newborn was determined to walk.  On very long, very boney legs, it finally awkwardly stood, ready to run if necessary.  It was a first for all of us, to watch a wild animal take care of herself and her baby, just feet from us.  Our heart could not have been more full, because of what we saw last week.   Fifty-five mosquito nets were distributed at the University of Industry and Business in Moshi. 


        Our friend, about whom we wrote about in last months Newsletter, Frank Mganga was released after three weeks in the hospital.  His broken arm and foot are healing well.  Pray now for James Obanda, who had a similar piki-piki accident. Bomas were visited.  Nyumbas hosted us. 


         It is getting hotter, which reminds us daily of our need and dependence on water, and it will make life more difficult because Tanzanians will drink more bad water.  Samples were taken to be analyzed.   We prayed every day.  We worshiped Sunday at Enkonkidongoi Kanisa la Kibatisti (a Maasai church) near Ngaramtoni. and Business in Moshi.

 

Our friend, about whom we wrote last month, Frank Mganga, was released after three weeks in the hospital. His broken arm and foot are healing well.
Pray now for James Obanda who had a similar piki-piki accident. Bomas were visited. Nyumbas hosted us. It is getting hotter, which reminds us daily of our need and dependence on water, and it will make life more difficult because Tanzanians will drink more bad water. Samples were taken to be analyzed. We prayed every day. We worshiped Sunday at Enkonkidongoi Kanisa la Kibatisti (a Maasai church) near Ngaramtoni.

Continue to give. Continue to pray for Called to Serve. For Water 2 Wine. For Frank, James, Cris and Brian. God is at work. It is so obvious. With the knowledge of His presence comes His peace. We pray you know it.




You Don't Even Have A Bucket.-- October 27 2009  

      

"You don't even have a bucket and the well is deep." 


       The woman at the well said this to Jesus.  He was sitting on the edge of a well asking her to give Him a drink.

       He doesn't need a bucket.

       The well was not and is not the deepest thing in our lives that obviously makes life a bit more complex than we feel we can solve.  We focus on the depth and tell God how difficult our circumstances are.

       "Thou alone art able to help without human aid."    How often we remind God He cannot function very well without us.

        A telephone call startled me early last Thursday.  My hello received the response, "I have lost my hand. I am at AICC Hospital."  Fear.  Shock. Panic gripped my heart.  "Frank?"  "I have lost my hand.  I am at AICC Hospital.  Come.  I was in a piki-piki (motorbike) accident.  Come!"  "I'll be right there."    He hadn't lost his hand.  Because there was no feeling in his hand, Frank Mganga thought he had lost his hand.  A broken right arm, a fractured right foot, two teeth loosened by the fall, a nose bleed, much pain, a seven-week or two month hospital (third world hospital) stay prognosis.  I just needed to touch him and to hold his wife of ten months, Edith. 


         On the way to work on Simeon Road, it was raining and a car stopped abruptly in front of Frank.  To his left was a five-foot man-made concrete ditch.  To his front and left, a large truck was maneuvering a matuta (speed bump).  It has been a frustrating reality for all us drivers.  Another driver blows his horn, impatiently passes and with no warning stops.   There is never a warning.  We love this country, but culturally it has its challenges.  Lying under the truck, broken, bleeding, getting wet, two men offered to get him a taxi for 5,000.00 shillings (about $5.00) to take him to the nearest hospital.  Only after paying the taxi fare was he helped into the taxi.  (You are probably asking with me, suppose he was unconscious.)  In AICC Hospital such emergency accidents cannot be handled.  Compassion International, where Frank works, paid for an ambulance to transfer him to Mount Meru Hospital.  An IV was given once another Tanzania friend paid 10,000.00 shillings for it.  He again had to be transferred to KCMC Hospital in Moshi, Tanzania, where a bone specialist might be able to help him.  Surgery was conducted that night. 


         Visiting Frank yesterday, he was on an x-ray gurney.  He had been placed on a cot (about a foot off the floor) and had been there four days.  He had been in the hallway with five other piki-piki accident patients since being taken to KCMC.   His mother's sister was feeding him, because patients only get fed if family comes and feeds them.  They call the unit and the hallway ICU.  One night the patients were placed on a porch.  Because Edith's uncle works for the hospital, Frank is being transferred to another ward.  Hopefully, it will bring better care and family can stay with him.  Nothing can be brought to make the patient more comfortable.  It is hospital policy and they are jealously adamant.  We do not want Frank's care affected in any way by what the hospital feels is outside their jurisdiction.

           Prayer is permissible.

           Bibles are allowed.

           Thus, the reminder, "Jesus - you don't even have a bucket and the well is deep."

            Praise God He doesn't need one.

            She said, "Give me this water."

            We say, "God, give us, especially Frank, from Your well."





Walk With Us.-- September 23 2009  

        It is 7:10 A.M.   I am sitting on a balcony, four stories up, overlooking the Atlantic Intercoastal Waterway in Morehead City, North Carolina.  I am surrounded by water.  I look up and I see Beaufort, North Carolina.  I count nine big fishing boats.  Below are docked smaller more exquisite fishing yachts.  In the distance is a long bridge with two ocean cargo ships anchored offshore.  It is quiet except for several noisy seagulls and other birds that I cannot see.  I only hear them.  Two tall white cranes are standing knee-deep in water in front of me.  Clouds hang low to the waterline, but the sky is clear and blue.
 
         As I often feel, I wish you were here to see what I am seeing.
 
         Baby steps.  They must precede walking and running.  Because I have this adult mind, I want to walk faster, but I must listen to God and tell myself baby steps must be taken first.  I want to run.  
 
         We came to Emerald Isle, North Carolina yesterday to meet with Chris Johns, one of the owners of Ruckers/Johns restaurants here and in Wilmington and in Greenville, North Carolina, and his photographer friend, Brian Dobler.  They are coming to Tanzania November 3, 2009.  Both are dynamic Christians.  We love their excitement and their vision.  God is using them.  They will stay with Called to Serve.   Chris has gotten the National Association of Restaurants to participate in the Water 2 Wine Project.  Donations will be made by all restaurant participants and clean water wells will be dug all over the world.  Chris and Brian will come to Tanania and they will meet James Mganga, Eliah Chilendu, Mikaeli Tatile, Fanuel Kiroka, Maji Tech personnel and see Tanzania needs for clean water.  
 
          On December 29, Vicki Cooke brings a team of eleven (three women and eight men).  One of those young men is Daniel Owens.  We will also see him today for he lives at Beaufort.  He is a dynamic go-getter who already has contacted Wrigley Gum and Dunkin' Yo Yo who have given him gifts to take to the orphans he saw on the Called to Serve website.  He showed us soccer balls and a pump also donated for him to bring.  He looks forward to being in Africa and doing ministry with the children he has seen on his computer.  
 
         Barbara and I will meet with Maria (Weisz) have her new husband, Mark on October 11 and they will come in January.   Carolyn and Tim Sharff plan to come to do ministry in May.   Check our website for future events but we will have dinners that may put other team coming our way.  We visited Steve Blanchard of First Baptist Church, Richmond, Virginia.  We have been talking to Steve for three years.  After a medical conference his mission's group is hosting, the prayers for a medical team may become a reality.  We had a nurse in July, 2008 and we have a nurse coming on the December team.  God has blessed and we feel He will bless before our seven weeks in the USA are finished.  
 
        I baptized Chris Hill in the James River our first Saturday here.  Chris and Joy will be married on October 10.   I have visited former church members and will have a funeral for Janice Saunders Thursday.  I was in Janice's home last week.
 
         Barbara and I preached the revival at Mount Hope Baptist Church.  Falling Creek, Mount Hermon, St. Matthews Episcopal Endowment Committee, Bellwood, Colonial Beach have hosted us well.   We had one fundraising gospel sing dinner at Friends Evangelical in Mechanicsville and will have another gospel sing dinner at Oak Grove Baptist is Westmoreland County Saturday, September 26 at 5:30 P.M.  We will have a Golf Tournament on October 9.  Our Board of Directors is totally involved in our ministry.  There is no way Barbara and I can express love and appreciation for all they do.  Someone on the Called to Serve board has been with us everywhere we have gone.  Only God can see our gratitude and we ask Him to bless each person on our board.  Time and space do not allow us to express ourselves, but personalities like Jim and Shirley Collins, Harry and Virginia Moore, Alberto and Tavis Jimenez, Lisa Adams, David and Nellie Purkey, we look forward to seeing each of you.  Fellowship Baptist Church's homecoming, Lyndale, Walthall, Bethel, Muddy Creek and Canaan Korean Presbyterian will complete our visit in the USA this year.  
 
           Continue to pray all is well in Arusha with Francis and all our friends there.  Thank you for your financial help.  We could not survive without you.  We always hope in a small way that you know how valuable you are to Call to Serve's ministry.  
 
           The website is inspirational to all who read it.  Thank you, Jon.
 
           In 2011, we have scheduled a Legal (Ethics) Conference for lawyers, police force people, business men and women.  We are inviting lawyers and law enforcement people and businessmen and women from Arizona, New York, Oklahoma, Texas and Virginia.  Much interest has  been expressed in Tanzania and from lawyer friends and police enforcement friends in the USA.   
 
         We spent three days with our daughters and the six youngest grandchildren in Charlotte, North Carolina two weeks ago.  Our three oldest, two in Missouri and one in New York were absent.  It was more than wonderful.  We have been to North Carolina three times.  We are staying with Yvonne and Allan and Adrian Berry in Richmond.  They have not only provide a place to stay but also have provided a vehicle to drive.  We praise God for them, for their spirits and their dedication.  We also thank Judi and Worthington Freeman for their place in Morehead City and Debbie Rucker at Rucker/John Restaurant at Emeral Isle.   
 
          Thank you for walking with us as we walked here in the USA and as we walk for Him in Tanzania. 




The Eyes Of Your Heart.-- August 23 2009                                            

You do not have only two eyes in your head to see.  You have eyes in your heart to see.
 
“The Lord sees not as man sees; for man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”  I Samuel 16:7
 
                                         Man sees hatred.  God sees causes.

                                       Man sees rebellion.  God sees thoughts.

                                          Man sees theft.  God sees hunger.

                                          Man sees tears.  God sees fears.

                                       Man sees behavior.  God sees reasons.

                                         Man sees actions.  God sees motives.

                                            Man sees what.  God sees why.


        It is not impossible for man to look and see what God looks and sees.

        We are in Africa and an ocean lies between us.  We try to share that weekly on our website.  We cannot see your hearts and minds. We do not know what you feel, what you think, how you sound when you say “Called to Serve” or our names.  Ideally, I have always thought

         “God sees.  God knows.”  We ask God to make you feel what we cannot make you feel.
           

       What we see, we tell you, but we realize our telling you is not the same as seeing it or hearing it for yourselves.  We are realistic.  What you see and experience everyday affects you the same ways what we see and hear affects us.

       Most of the time we do not have electricity.  That means no computer, no washing machine, no pump to provide water, no clean clothes, no television, no lights, no refrigerator, no range, no microwave.  Three sessions of teaching Family Lifestyles and preaching, the electricity went off.  That meant no light, no keyboard, no microphones.  We just talked louder in a dark Shalom Christian Center.

     Working at Ngurodoto TAG (Tanzanian Assembly of God) there were no pews (only benches),no windows, no doors, no floor, but accapella singing, and rhythmic dancing and the spirit of worship was great.

     Pastor Amos Palangyo (71) was a blessing.  The Sunday school class of about 50 people complained about nothing, but were eager students of the Bible.  Lunch was brought into a back room and served on a table that served also as the pastor’s desk. Church benches were brought into the room to accommodate us.

      Daily we get text-messages, emails, letters, visits from the nationals who have nothing, but they rejoice because to all of them we can only give ourselves.  That is more than enough.  Two children stopped yesterday for two buckets of water.

      We have been working on an adoption for volunteer friends with Called to Serve for a year and a month.  We were notified this week it has gone a different way (and no one could/would tell us why).  The adoption will not happen.  We are dealing with tears and pain on both sides of the Atlantic.  Years ago I used the illustration of a knotted ball of string.  It cannot be untangled and straightened to make one long line of string.  Just clip it and begin again.   We had to do that this week, because there is no unraveling that “messed-up” ball.  

       HIV/AIDS is a killer here.  As I was having a Swahili Gospel CD fixed for me, John Megolicki (23) visited with Barbara at the car.  The CD/DVD/Video shop was one way this young man is helping to keep other young men busy with activities that challenges and excites them.   He wants four sewing machines (90,000 shillings each) to help the local girls occupy their time.  He is concerned because of a nearby military base that floods that small village weekly and the villagers cannot combat such an influx.  HIV/AIDS is coming in, attacking, and all in the village are being affected.

     I received a telephone call, “Meet me downtown.  Bernard Gervis wants to see you.”  I respond with no recollection of who Bernard was. In 1995, Bernard and I inventoried 19 shipping crates in Dar es Salaam.  I was at his engagement party.  Now I met, again, his wife, Rosina, his daughters, Patricia and Esther, and his son Benjamin.  I will lead a conference and preach in his church, Evangelistic Assembly of God in November as I return from Babati where I am scheduled to do a conference for the PAMC (Pentecostal African Mission Church).  Bernard and Rosina live in Mdori.  He is a small man from a different tribe and he pastors a Maasai church.  When asked if that gave him any problems, he said, “As long as I preach Jesus, they listen.”

    Patrick Muchemi, whom I met in 1996 in Nyeri, Kenya, now married and has fathered a son and a daughter and I will be reunited when I return from the USA.  He wrote in 1996, “You motivated me then and are a special person to me.”
            God was and is in all of this.

            It crosses our minds, “We want you to meet and see and hear John and Bernard and Patrick.”  That is Called to Serve’s ministry, to give moral and spiritual support to help young men change Africa for Him.

           We do not know who gives to the Called to Serve ministry.  We say thank you for your gifts.  We mean our expressions of gratitude.  God sees and God knows.  He sees your gifts and He sees your hearts.

           We ask Him to bless you.  We also do not know who is thinking of us and praying for us.  We are sincerely grateful to you for your thoughts and prayers.  There are difficult moments in our lives.  At those times we are
really aware of your thoughts and prayers and gifts.  We simply ask God who sees and knows everything, whatever you are doing for us, that He lets you know and feel His blessing and our appreciation.  Please continue.  God provides through you everything we need.  We ask God to forgive us and we ask you to forgive us.  Our Board and you, our supporters, are important to us.  It is a real encouragement when someone in another part of the world emails us they have been positively affected by the Called to Serve ministries.  This is
our way of saying thank you for what you are doing.  Called to Serve cannot do God’s work for Tanzania without you.

          God sees the hearts.

         “Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil and canst not look on iniquity.”  Habakkuk 1:12

          That is not what God sees.

            On the cross Jesus looked, saw and said,” Forgive them for they know not what they do.”  He saw something any of us in His place could not or would not see.  He was looking with the eyes in His heart.”




Praise God For Happy People.-- August 19 2009

                                               

                                                Keep your tongue from evil.

                                                Depart from evil and do good.

                                                   Seek peace and pursue it.

                                                           Psalm 34:13-14

                                                          Beware of men.    

                                                     It is not you that speaks,

                                                   but the Spirit of your Father

                                                      which speaks in you.

                                                       Matthew 10:17,20

            What you say says more about yourself than it does about the people you talk about.

               Unhappy people say and do unhappy things.


              Praise God for happy people who say and do happy things.

             We drove to Cradle of Love.  It houses 30 babies.  When we arrived they were all asleep.  Pamela

and Helen, two of the happiest people we have met this week, greeted us and gave us a tour of the facility.  Barbara and I had been there several times before, but we always take people there that we think will enjoy it.


          It was very quiet.  They insisted on our seeing the babies.  As we entered the bedrooms, babies began to stir.  They began to stand.  There were at least fifteen cribs in each room.  In less than five minutes they all were standing or lying awake.  Each of us was holding a baby.  Pamela had introduced us to each of the children.  The second bedroom had cribs on top of cribs and the babies were from three months to nine months old.  Precious, beautiful children and it smelled so good.  All the babies were happy babies.  They were not noisy. Again, to touch a baby, to hold a baby, to greet a baby, the quietness of the room, the smiles, the staring eyes, the outstretched arms captured our hearts.  It was warm and inviting.  No one in the hallway would have known there were 30 babies in two rooms.  It was orderly and neat.  Each baby had been given to Cradle of Love.

            We stopped by Shalom Center, a home for street children, going back into Arusha.  A group from Youth with a Mission had brought a USA team from Washington state to visit and do a program.  We were there to carry an envelope to support an infant.  Angel was her name.  This was a home for street children, ages 9 – 16.  Somebody had left a baby girl there and they ere caring for her.  One of my students, Yohanna Nnko, was there with the Washington state group.  With them, also, was Amani Liondo, the wife of Stephen Liondo, who was a YWAM teacher and who was in my YWAM class as a student.  They introduced us to the USA team, “This is my teacher.”  Yohanna said it with such joy and pride.  I relished his words and smile.  I know me, but in his eyes and voice I was somebody.  I had at home on my desk an email from Stephen Liondo, whose wife I had given a ride earlier that week.  “I can’t forget your great encouragement in my life during your week of teaching.” Stephen wrote, “I still need much of your prayers so that we may be able to reach the dreams that we have in God.”  Talk abut words of encouragement, Stephen is a teacher at Youth with a Mission.  He and Amani have invited us to dinner in their home before we come to the states.

             Teaching a three-session conference on being a Christian man/woman, a Christian couple, and a Christian family, Hosea, the pastor, and David, the interpreter, embarrassingly repeated appreciation for Christian family lifestyles, because no one had ever addressed it.


             We met a couple from India, last night, Kalwa and Angie Patel, who are delightful, wonderful people. We plan to get to know them better.

             Depart from evil. Do good.

 
            Evil hurts.  Evil often comes from well-intentioned people, people who have no awareness of the pain they are causing.  That is probably why Jesus said, “Beware of men.”

            I am a great believer in writing only what I think people will read.  Short.  Not wordy, long paragraphs.

            I mention names only.  With each name there could be a couple of paragraphs.  Happy people.  We met them this week.  They are why we are here.  John.  Sangau.  Martin (pronounced Marteen), Bernard Gervis, Rosina, Benjamin, Esther, Patricia (born in North Carolina), James, Unnamed store owner, Felicity, Luis, Francis Wainaina (starting a new ministry in Kenya), Patrick Muchema, Raymond, Mageche, Cyprion, Rachel, Asha, and Melky.  They are all happy people worthy to be cared for and ministered to.

 
            Thank you for your gifts.  Thank you for your prayers.  Our prayer for you is found in Ephesians 1:17 “May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ give you the spirit of wisdom.”    



Do Not Set Yourself Over God!-- July, 28 2009


                                    There are questions that cannot be answered.

                                    Yet we command God to give us the answer.

                                             “Why God?  I don’t understand?
          
                                                   “I deserve to know.”
 
                                    We are asking God to be accountable to us.

                             How can God be answerable to a puny mortal like me?

                           Because I do not understand the ways of the natural world,

                                    why people act the way they do, I say

                                                  “God allowed it.

                                            Who am I to question God?

                        Job 40:2 “Will the person who argues with God correct Him?

                        Job 42:11 “I am not worthy.  I cannot answer You anything.

                                    So I will put my hand over my mouth.

                                                Well, shut my mouth!

                                                       God is!

                                             “I Am That I Am” still IS!
 
            It was 1:27 in the morning.  I could not sleep.  I must have been asleep from 9:30 P.M. until 1:27 A.M. I was dreaming a Tanzanian friend had made a divining rod.  He was at Kilimamoto (Mountain of Fire) with a handmade wooden divining rod.  He found water.  Then seventeen of the dustiest dirtiest children surrounded me, begging for pipi (candy). Both things happened just recently.  I asked why those events were on my mind?  I needed to understand.  I asked God, “Help me understand.”  He did not answer.

            Tito sat beside me.  I wanted to meet the boy.  His counselor had told me of the boy’s lifestyle and Tito was pointed out to me, because he sells himself sexually on the streets of Arusha to eat.  I sat down beside the fifteen-year-old, and I looked into the eyes of a little boy.  I could not imagine what he must go through to survive.  I did not understand.  I was supposed to see him as Jesus sees him.

            Everest sat on my lap.  He was a little boy of five and when he saw me, he ran to me.  Hugged me.  He was beaten, strangled and found in a dumpster with a plastic bag on his head.  A precious child.  But I do not understand.  God said, “Don’t even try."
 
             Noticing at a shamba (a farm corn field) a young man, who deliberately sat alone, I went to him.  His name was Amina.  He was given two Victory bracelets, and I told him what each colored bead meant.  He gave his bracelets away and slouched away, his body language saying as he left, “Leave me alone.”  He acted as if no one understood.  But God does.

            Eliah, a pastor from Longido, tried to explain for me to understand.  He described famine.  He described drought.  He almost cried as he shared awful things being experienced by two mutual friends of ours.  Called to Serve has been asked to help coordinate trucks of maize and water to the area.  I sensed God saying, “Though you will never understand, intervene.”

            A friend offered to fix my car.  I have been in Tanzania 2 ½ years and had been warned.   Now I know.  The two men who were to fix my car destroyed it.  They took it completely apart.   I will never understand and they are upset with me because I will not pay for the work they did to isolate me for a week on our compound and to travel this week on a dala-dala.   Makovia, another mechanic friend, has completed the repair and I will get the car back today (Tuesday).  You have no idea how often I have asked God, “Why?”

            I do not understand.
 
            The valedictorian of his college, Daudi, can not get a job because he is a Kenyan in Tanzania.


            A sixteen-year-old, Mary, must be put in school not near her home because an uncle may hurt her.

            A young man, John, with one arm, because at nine a crocodile attacked him and ate off his left arm to the shoulder.  He wants me to come to his college because his friends want to meet me.

            A young woman, Gertrude, called last week and told us she just gave birth to Daniel and her son David, now four, loves us like grandparents.  She is a waitress who sells us ice cream.

            A young half-Italian, half-Tanzanian (he calls himself “the zebra”) invites himself to go to church with us because he likes being with two old white people.  He is learning to love the Christ and wants to serve Him.  

            A missionary (Dolfi) from Wisconsin called us because her 92 year-old father died.  She and her Datoga husband (Gilagwynda) will stay with us August 6-7 when we pick her up at the airport from the USA, having spent three weeks with her mother.

            We will house the contents of a 20-foot shipping crate for Dory, a teacher from Ohio, in our garage as the contents are brought from Dar es Salaam to be put in a new nursery school she is building for children at Olevolos.  There is no understanding why she has been treated so badly, now for two years.

            No. I do not understand.  I ask, “Why” often.  It causes me to pray and to care all the more.

            Then I read and I realized.

            I wanted to be in the control tower.

            And I criticized John and James, the disciples of Jesus, for wanting to sit next to Jesus.

            That was because I wanted to be there.

            How could I have dared to assume that Almighty God owed me explanations?

            Because I had become a Christian, now God must check things out with me?

            It would be like pouring million gallon truths into my one-ounce brain/
 
            Keep praying.  Please.

            Keep giving.  Please.

            These people need you.



Keep the Faith.--- July, 22 2009

                    
                “Oh Lord, let not flesh and blood conquer me.  Let not the world deceive me.  Let not the devil by his subtlety cast me down.  Give me strength to resist, patience to endure, and constancy to persevere.”

            It has become a habit.  For 2 ½ years now.  The lights never go out without reading from the Bible (last night Exodus 13), a page from The Imitation of Christ, a page from John Knox’s commentary on Galatians, and a page from Joni Eareckson’s “A Step Further.”  I never get out of bed each morning until the Bible is read (this morning Exodus 14), the above opening sentence from The Imitation of Christ, and this sentence from Joni this morning “Praise God for giving Bible characters gifts appropriate to their situation and in giving us special grace appropriate to ours.”

             Barbara and I are probably two of the most imperfect people in the world.  We know that.  We begin each day with prayer.  We close each day together with prayer.  It is only because we know we can do nothing without Jesus Christ.  Praise God.  He knows us better than we know ourselves.  He forgives.  He helps.  He leads.

            I was just called to the front gate. A man knocked at our gate, asking for a job.

            Francis Wainaina stood holding Barbara’s and my hands Saturday night before he went to bed and all three of us prayed aloud for each other and Called to Serve and the team that just left and for future teams (especially their health).

            After breakfast Sunday, Francis prayed again before he left for Kenya.  I have always believed in the power of prayer.  Never have I felt so anointed.  Hearing Francis pray was spiritually cleansing and encouraging.  The focus was in the right place.

             I sat yesterday with Eliah Chilendu, the pastor of Longido Church, for nearly two hours discussing famine, drought and a personal pastoral need.

            I was awakened this morning with a phone texted message. One of my former students, who calls me father, wants Barbara and me to meet the girl who may become his wife.  He forwarded her phone number to us.

            We were texted by Luis Crovara about the delivery of malaria medicine and then texted by John Megoliki who will with his family take the malaria medicine.  He just buried his nine-year-old brother last Friday.

             While I was with Eliah, Mathias Joseph sat with Barbara and God was praised for how He is working in the life of that 19 year-old.

            We received an email note to speak to the Social Welfare person to continue with the adoption process of Bahati.

            I received just yesterday an email from Eddy Vidachea in Costa Rica whom I have known since 1995.  He had received an email (he has been corresponding for years) from Moses Kitoo, a young Maasai man I met last January.  God has blessed me to know both men, one in Costa Rica, the other in Longido, Tanzania.

            By Saturday, our garage will be filled with the contents of a twenty-foot crate in storage in Dar es Salaam.  Clothing, shoes, bicycles, everything to open the Olevolos Primary school will be stored until November, when it will all be taken to the new school.  We are working with Dory Gannes to help that school.

Karume, a Tanzanian friend of ours, will be doing the work.

             It amazes me how immature are the attempts of satan to distract.  Thomas a’Kempis was right when he said that satan uses good-intentioned people to focus elsewhere.   Fear is an awful thing.  It attacks us all.

            Thank you, Jesus, for allowing us to see others as You see them and to feel for them what You feel, and to serve them in Your name.

            Your prayers and your gifts are greatly appreciated.  It is our prayer (Barbara’s and mine) that God will let you know that.  Remember.  It is God’s work and His Son’s name we are all trying to do and to proclaim.


  

One.--- July, 19 2009

                    
           My car is completely taken apart.

            I see parts all over the mechanic’s yard.

             I am shown and I have no idea what I am looking at.

             I will go with the mechanic Tuesday to buy parts.  No estimate is given for repairs, but I believe my friend, who only says, “You were really risking your life to drive this vehicle.”

            Praise God for the vehicle.  Only God has protected me in the places in Africa this car has taken us for 2 ½ years.

            A team of six flew back to the USA last night.       

            One young national, who stayed with us, texted me this morning.  He feels he is our son and his expression of gratitude was sincere.  He delivered malaria medicine to a family where a 9 year-old boy was buried Friday.  At home that child had left a 12 year-old, a 16 year-old, and a 17 year-old sister and a mother.  The father had already died.  The 23 year-old older brother, who had lost his right arm to a crocodile at age 9, gets malaria every two months. 

            We took home a couple of Tanzanians who have been living with us two weeks.  They were also with us for three weeks interpreting for a June team of ten.

            Our driver, who stayed with us, drove us to dinner last night and took a dala-dala home.  He has blessed us for five weeks.

            One young preacher from Kenya left us this morning after breakfast.  His prayers are genuine and articulated so well.  I praise God for his spirit.  He was also, with the others, a student at Mount Meru University.

            We still (for a year) have no hot water.

            The commodes do flush.  Usually it has to be done with buckets in each bathroom.  Praise God for a new bore hole (well) that our landlord has had dug and now there is plenty of water.

            Something is now wrong with the electricity.  A switch is defective, we think.

            Our watchman and gardener is off today.  He is off every Sunday.

            Circumstances are ideal for a personal pity-party, but I reflect with you on things I feel Christ would have us reflect on.

            Christ saw a widow’s mite.  No record was made to the numbers of larger gifts or to the amounts given.

            Christ saw a retarded man in Kimokoa Church.  His walk.  His dress.  His Sunday hat.  His laughter.  His face.  All these things were evidences of a little boy in a man’s body.  A Tanzanian mama, probably the man’s mama, stood before the offering was to be taken, walked to this grown man and put two coins (probably 200 shillings or 20 cents) in his hand.  As the entire church, pew by pew, went to the offering basket to put in offerings, this young man stood straight and tall, and smiling put his two coins in the offering basket.

             Christ used a mustard seed to explain faith.  A seed so small was so great in God’s sight.

            One of the most exquisite trees here with enormous leaves and barbed clusters of seeds are the castor-oil trees.  How beautiful.  How noticeable.  How attractive for shade as well as privacy. How different.  Along roadsides.  In yards.  Fences are hidden.  Houses are disguised.  Each cluster has about six seeds.  Such a tree teaches us to be beautiful, noticeable, attractive, and different.

            God used a baby hidden in a basket in a river.

            God used a stone in a boy’s sling shot.

            God used a little village about six miles south of the capital city.

            God chose the most humble men to speak for him.

             Jesus saw a little man in a sycamore tree.

            Jesus told of a pigpen with a young man feeding pigs.

            God allowed a spike in each hand.

            God chose a little bald-headed man with a bad temper to be a missionary.

            God used a little woman in India to love lepers.

            God chose me.

            Here

             God saved an infant, named Michael, found hours after he was born, and dumped, and placed him in Samaritan Village this week.

            God saw and still watches a young man, Amani, who is sixteen, saved from the streets of Arusha because his mother refused to feed him and there are 67 others (boys and girls) in Chiswea Rehabilitation Center.

            God sees a little girl, Astra, in a small village, Boma N’gombe, maybe 5, whose grandmother was giving away, hoping she would be given hope and an education.  The father is dead.  The mother is dying.

            God showed us a village where seven dogs slept side by side and the beautiful people live more meagerly than some pigs in this world.

            We feel so small, so inadequate, so unqualified, so alone, but that just means we are in the place God sees and comes to us and uses us.

            Praise God for your prayers.

            Praise God for your gifts.

            You may think your part is so small, but it is so great.

            One cross.

            One hillside.

            One empty tomb.

            One body raised.he word is authentic this week.



Be Authentic!--- July, 5 2009

                    
           The word is authentic this week.

             Are you?

             Am I?

             Authentic implies “genuine.”  Authentic suggests “real.”

             I always let philosophy frighten me.  Philosophers spent lifetimes philosophizing.  Not one came to a definite solution or anything real or genuine or authentic.  They began with speculation.  They ended with speculation.  They became renowned for exposing their thinking.  Actually, they were running in place and they went nowhere.  (This is my opinion, only.)

            Tanzania is an authentic place.
            Tanzanians are authentic.
            Cultures are authentic.
            Smiles are authentic.
            Greetings are authentic.
            Corruption is authentic.
            Desire to improve is authentic.
            Ignorance is authentic.
            Ugali is authentic.
            Hunger and drought are authentic.

             Standing at the front of Kimokoa Kanisa Bautisti with a large trash barrel, turned upside down with its bottom rusted out, with a rusted jagged bottom being used as a pulpit.   To my right were two containers of kerosene and fifty empty water bottles to pour the kerosene in; at my feet a stalk of at least fifty bananas; to my left 25 five-pound bags of maize flour; further to my left a 50 pound bag of sugar, a 50 pound bag of animal feed, 80 bags of salt; in the pastor’s hand were aspirin, other pain killers, burn and scrap ointments and salves.  They have not had rain in Kimokoa since last September.  All their crops have failed.  Their animals are dying.

             Their smiles.  Their words of gratitude.  Their joy in worship.  Their hugs.  Their being there for such meager food hand-outs.  That was authentic.

             We can be so selfish at the slightest inconvenience.

             We are going to Boma N’gombe Tuesday to fix a dam by a church pond, to give them three fishing nets, to teach dental hygiene, to give toothbrushes and toothpaste to all the members, to give 60 mosquito nets, to examine children and to take adult blood pressures.  We are going to do the same things in Kimokoa and in Nyumba ya Mungu.  We are going to give 75 pairs of shoes and clothes to the children at Samaritan Village and Malaika Orphanage.  We will visit Chiswea, a home for 68 street children to help meet some of their needs.  You can remember a child’s name by the shirt and shorts he/she wears.

            There is authentic need.  There is authentic gratitude.

             What prompted this article?  I read this morning, July 5, 2009.  “Do not succumb to mindless interpretations.  Enter into a relationship with Me, through Jesus Christ, and allow Me to lead you to be authentic.”

            I praise God for you, your gifts and your prayers.  God bless you as you give and pray to meet authentic needs with authentic giving and praying.


   

We Need Each Other.  I Need You!--- June, 28 2009

           

            We picked up nine volunteers from Fredericksburg Christian School at Kilimanjaro International Airport on Saturday, June 6.

             Sunday, June 7, All Nations Christian Center was our site of worship.  Twenty-seven orphans at Samaritan Village and at least two dozen neighborhood children entertained us all afternoon.

             Monday, Chiswea, a rehabilitation home for 68 street children blessed us.

            Monduli, teaching children, teaching women, and painting two rooms and the outside of a home made Tuesday a full day.

             Completing of the work at Monduli and a “washboard” ride to Magugu filled Wednesday.

             Bricklaying, groups of children, women, men, close-up sighting of a baby hippopotamus, the Babati Wawi Guest House, African meals, skits, programs, village walks, a visit and program at a secondary school, the distributing of 112 mosquito nets kept us busy until Saturday.

             Lively worship at Arusha Baptist Church highlighted Sunday, June 12.

            A safari to Tarangire was scheduled Monday.  Many indescribable and memorable animal sightings were captured on film.  Acrobatics at Bella Luna concluded that day.

             A hospital tour and a program at Shalom Center, another home for street children, filled Tuesday.

             Off to Moshi, and Masaranga Bible Baptist Church began Wednesday.  We stayed at Umoja Lutheran Hostel.  An outdoor kitchen was built, door-to-door evangelism was done, the bus got stuck in unbelievably sticky mud and was pushed by the team twice.  An activity-filled all-day happening was held at Amani, a home for street children in the Moshi area.  Lunches were cooked over open fires under rainy skies those days.  Friday and Saturday nights TAFES (Tanzanian Fellowship of Evangelical Students) was attended.  USA youth and Tanzanian youth developed friendships.

           Worship was conducted at Masaranga Bible Baptist Sunday morning, and Luis Crovara’s mother, Fortunato, treated us to lunch.  Luis was one of our interpreters as was David Gachebe.  They with John Megolicke became integral parts of our team

            Souvenir shopping was Monday’s agenda.

            Another visit to Chiswea, a soccer game and an all day excursion to Kimokoa with a boma prayer visit concluded this mission trip.
 
            I just wanted briefly to tell you that you were here and an important part of that team’s experiences.

             We still need your prayers and we need your continued financial support.  That way you are a major part of Called to Serve’s ministries.  You are touching the Tanzanian people is personal ways.

            Next Monday a team of six sets foot on Tanzanian soil.  Boma N’gombe, Kimokoa and Nyumba ya Mungu will be our sites of ministry.   Barbara and I will lead a Family Life Conference at Shalom Christian Center August 14 – 16.  I will be teaching at Youth with a Mission July 21 – 27 on I and II Samuel.  We need your prayers as we prepare.  We want to do good teaching for Christ.  In August two ladies from Phoenix, Arizona arrive.  Barbara and I head for the USA August 23 until October 13.  We have been invited to Idaho to visit Vicky and Keith Jarvis and they have offered their home, their car and their getting us into Idaho churches to speak of Called to Serve.  If you would like to help us get there, we would appreciate it, and we pray God will bless you as He directs you.

             Reading last night from Ephesians 3 – 5, here are some highlights of what I read.  May God bless you as He did me.

             “Be not discouraged.”  (3:13)        

            “To Him, Who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power, to Him be glory.”  (3:20-21)

             “Live a life worthy of the calling you have received.”  (4:1)

             “No longer live in the futility of your thinking.”  (4:17)

             “Put off your old self . . . put on your new self.”  (4:22,23)


             “Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God.”  (4:30)

            “Be imitators of God.”  (5:1)

             “Live as children of light.”  (5:6)

            I pray these scriptures are in you.  You pray for me.  And we all will make Called to Serve what God wants it to be.



   

Doing His Work--- June, 2 2009

 
            I have been doing a lot of spiritual wrestling this week. I have done this kind of thing all of my life. So I share how God has spoken to me.
 
            “Now . . . what doth the Lord thy God require of thee?

                       
Deuteronomy 10:12--Fear the Lord thy God.

                        Walk in all His ways.

                        Love Him.

                        Serve the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul.”

            Called-to-Serve is God’s work.

             Men think they are superior to other men.

            Men think they are superior.

            To such men, God is man’s creation.

            Therefore, men think they are superior to God.

             The God being does not need man.  God does not need.  We assume He needs us or His will will not be done.  We think God needs what we have to offer or His work isn’t as effective.  Man’s faith determines the reality of God, how big He is, if He has power, if He is.   Therefore, man respects his own opinions, feelings and thoughts.  God lets him.

            I am human.  God’s reality is not based on what I think, feel or believe.  Praise God for that!
 
            Last night was difficult.  Each of you have had such nights.  This morning, God spoke to me in this way and He could not have been clearer.
 
            Deuteronomy 11:6--“Be careful, or you will be enticed to turn away.”

             Deuteronomy 11:18--“Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds.”

             Deuteronomy 11:26--“See, I am setting before you today a blessing and a curse – the blessing if you obey the commands of the Lord your God that I am giving you today; the curse if you disobey the commands of the Lord your God and turn away from the way that I command you.”

            It is from the Men’s Devotional Bible (NIV).  The devotion reads, “If you want to love God through your work, then you need to determine that what you are doing in your job is something God wants done and that you are doing your job because God wants it done.  “I’m here to do something God wants done, and I intend to do it because I love Him.”

             From Thomas a’Kempis Imitation of Christ, “If you are truly wise, you will rejoice in Me alone, you will hope in Me alone; for there is none good but God alone.”

            Joni Eareckson in A Step Further said this morning, “The problems we face highlight the mercies of God.”

            Praise God, because He is so specific, as He talks.

            The Theta Team arrives in Arusha this Saturday, June 6.  God is blessing with three weeks, full of hands-on ministry.

           Preaching at Shalom Christian Center this past Sunday, we have scheduled a Family Life Conference in August.

            Student friends were home from their work so Elius, Emmanuel, Tobias and Jeremia visited.  Jeremia sent a text on the phone, and he apologized for any inconvenience he may have caused.  I love God for allowing me to love these guys.  Called to Serve is blessed to have them caring and ministering.

            We will have water by Saturday, we hope and pray.

             We have four German girls and one Islamic neighbor here Thursday night.
 
            Our former yardman stopped by for a visit and I will be preaching three services in Sekei Lutheran, Walter’s church, the last Sunday in July.

             God is so good.

             I close with God’s word to me through Joni Eareckson yesterday. “God deliberately chooses weak and unlikely candidates to get His work done, so that when the job is accomplished, the glory goes to Him and not to us.  We are not a pearl-inlaid sword in His hand.  We are a dagger and a candlestick holder (unlikely weapons in a sword fight) doing a sword’s job.”

            Thank God for you, for your giving, your prayers, and your part in Called to Serve’s ministries.


   

He is Always there.--- May 27 2009


            Sitting on the edge of my bed this morning, May 27, I was reading from Deuteronomy 4:9 “Take heed to thyself and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine eyes have seen and lest they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life.”


            Nothing in my life is coincidence.  I turned the page in the Bible and read, “Beware lest thou forget the Lord.”  That is Deuteronomy 6:12.  I had, without knowing, turned two pages, so I turned back and read Deuteronomy 4:23 “Take heed unto yourselves, lest ye forget the covenant of the Lord, which he made with you.”

             Finally and I stopped reading at Deuteronomy 4:29 “If thou shalt seek the Lord thy God, thou shalt find him, if thou seek him with all thy heart and with all thy soul.”

             I recently picked off our shelf, “A Step Further” written by Joni Eareckson, a quadriplegic and a prolific and powerful witness and I read on page 18 of her book, “God has placed each of us exactly where He pleases.”

            I stopped reading because of beautiful bird sounds.  Looking up, I thought, “That lovely sound is close.” I turned and on our windowsill were two birds, looking in the window.  Yesterday morning one of them had hit the window, trying to get in.  She clung with disheveled feathers to the wire outside the windows.  Often I hear them in nearby trees or on electric wires.  I have wanted to take pictures, but they are ugly little black birds, not picturesque or colorful, but the whistling sounds they make cause me to look twice.  How can God put something (a sound) so beautiful in something so unattractive?  But He does that.

            Saturday, I had traveled with Mathias Joseph to Monduli and with Mathias and Pelo (a physics teacher) from Monduli to Umoja, getting ready for the June team, coming on June 6.  I had promised to stop in Boma N’gombe to make plans for the July team, too.

            As Mathias and I drove out of Moshi, having just left Umoja, it was 6:20 P.M. and the sun was bright.  The winds had blown away clouds and snow-covered Mount Kilimanjaro loomed clearly before us.  It was literally breathtaking.  After one of many picture-taking stops, I said to Mathias, “Fifty years ago I taught, as an English teacher, an essay.  It was written by a man named Ernest Hemingway.  It was titled “The Snows of Kilimanjaro.”  I never thought I would ever see it at the time I taught about it.   One day, Mathis, you will go to the USA and you will see something, I do not know what, that you are learning about now.”  Mathias is a 19 year-old in Form 2 of a secondary school, here in Arusha, Tanzania.

            The sun sets fast in Africa.  We headed west, going to Boma N’gombe.  Mount Kilimanjaro was on our right all the way there.  Directly in front of us was Mount Meru, a shadow with a bright orange sunset behind it.  At that moment “exquisite” described the physical world I was in.

            At 7:00 P.M. we arrived at Boma N’gombe.  It was getting very dark.  I turned off the main road, got directions from three Maasai men to the house I was trying to find.  Susanne got in the car and she took us “kulia” (right) and “keshoto” (left) for miles into heavy tall green bushy country.  The route taken was a foot path.  It was dark.  Only my headlights, me, a 19 year-old, and a Tanzanian lady, deep in an unknown area of Africa.  There he was.  Walking.  The man I was to meet with and to plan for the team.  He was going to a nearby house to treat a sick cow.  He got into the car and he directed us to a house hidden somewhere in all that darkness.  He had one fluorescent light.  It stopped working.  We sat in the dark.  A torch was brought by the daughter from a neighbor.  Touch and large writing I could not see was done on a dark notebook in my lap.

We planned the July visit to Boma N’gombe.

            After one hour the darkness had become so black nothing could be seen.  We got into the car.  I took the man to where he was to treat the sick cow.  God forgive me of my pride.  I have been blessed to sense and to know direction, but in that stifling darkness, I could see nothing.  Mr. Mwalimu got out.  We found our way to Susanne’s house.  She got out.  She gave Mathias and me very hot donuts which her daughter, Julia, had cooked for us.  We drove into the darkness.  Barbara called at that moment, “Where are you?”  “If I find the main road, I will know.  I will call you then.”  In that darkness, I recognized bushes, rocks and paths.  I whispered, “Thank you, Lord, for being with us.”  A half hour later, we were on the main road.  Going into Boma N’bombe (which means House of the Cow) I could see Mount Kilimanjaro and Mount Meru.  Coming out of Boma N’gombe, nothing could be seen.

            At Makamira we stopped.  “Can I buy you a soda, Mathias?”  Seated, drinking that soda, Mathias said, “You do know we are surrounded by thieves?”  “How do you know that, Mathias?”  “I heard them as we went to buy the drinks.  ‘There is a rich mzungu.’”  We finished our drinks and I took Mathias home to Kijenge.  We had left at 9:00 A.M. and we had arrived home at 9:00 P.M.

            “Lest you forget the things thine eyes have seen.” Beauty in unattractive things and places.

            Thank you for your financial giving to allow me to see and to plan.

            Thank you for your prayers.  Keep praying.  God is blessing.

            Thank you for your interest.  When I go places, you are there, too.


   

What Do You Hunger and Thirst For?--- April 27 2009

(NOTE: Look for pictures to this article on the latest Newsletter)

We find in life what we want to find.

             The Bible says, “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness for they shall be filled.”

             If we really desire God, we will do those things which will cause us to experience God.

             Those who hunger and thirst for God find Him.  You never find God until He becomes your deepest desire.

             Once a young man seeking God was taken to a river.  Walking into the water, he was grabbed and held under the water.  Wrenching free, he came gasping out of the water.  He was asked, “When you thought you were drowning, what did you desire most?”  “Air!” he gasped.  “When you want God as much as you wanted air, you will find Him.”

             We get what we really want.

             Going through spiritual motions, giving lip service, being lukewarm, doing religious things are ways people invest much time, and it is time wasted.  It is half-hearted and the focus is lost.  Life is empty.  Like the beginning of time, “without form and void and darkness was upon the face of the deep, and the Spirit of God moved . . . and there was light.”  (Genesis 1:2,3)

             I stood on the side of a mountain Sunday, April 26.  In front of me were miles and miles of hills and shambas, quilted cultivation and bomas, cattle and pundas and exquisite beauty.  Before me sat thirty-six people, most of them coming to church with chairs, sofas and pillows on their heads, bringing seats to sit on.  To my left were four neatly shaped mud nyumbas.  Behind me were a dozen penned mama goats with their nursing babies.  Each person who came to that service of worship put down a carried armchair and prayed.  They had walked for miles carrying furniture on their heads to worship.

             Leaving that gorgeous outdoor sanctuary, driving down the mountain, we slowly drove through five large approaching herds of cattle coming from Nairobi, Kenya, four hours away for a drink of water in that valley.

            I was blessed.  I was humbled.  I was to lead in what I felt was genuine worship.  Their actions were my sermon.  They spoke to my heart louder than the words I spoke.

             I drove the pastor home, over six kilometers away.  He and his youngest son, about thirteen, had walked to church that morning.  Nothing was said to get my attention about the distance they had walked. I drove almost a half hour to that pastor’s mud hut.  How many times in a year had he walked (probably an hour and a half or two hours) to teach and to preach and to worship.  His only concern were the people in that area who were hungering and thirsting to know God.

             The roads I drove on.  The extreme dust.  The smiles.  The verbal greetings.  The Maasai peoples of that area.  Thank you for your prayers.  Thank you for your financial gifts.  You permit us to see and to experienced and to be servants of God in this unique and beautiful part of God’s world.  Pleas see the pictures. 

            I know I cannot get you here physically, but please know you are here spiritually.


   

Don't Stop the World, I don't want to get off!--- April 11 2009

Years ago, there was a song and its lyrics included, “Stop the world, I want to get off.”

It is Easter week in this part of God’s world.  And the world has stopped.

Practically every day this week has been a holiday.  Nothing is done on the three days that are not marked “holiday.”

I paid our computer service account last Friday for the next three months.  I was told I could get the receipt on Wednesday (just past) because every other day of that week was a holiday.  The secretary showed me the calendar with the holidays marked.  I put a suit in the laundry.  I can get that back next Tuesday, April 14.  Our landlord sent a well-drilling team last week.  They will begin work next week, drilling for water.  We have a friend who has helped us in the past and he is visiting family in Malaysia.  He will be back April 18.  Potato salad could not be made because it was Easter week.  One holiday was to memorialize the death of the president of Zanzibar.  Businesses and banks were closed.  He died over ten year ago.  One friend and family will be in Australia a month.  Another friend and family took off last week and went to Nairobi, Kenya.  We also have holiday on Easter Monday.  It really feels as if the world has stopped.  We did buy water at the end of last week, and it may last us until Monday.  We hope to buy water next week.

The world has stopped functioning here for nine days.  People enjoy doing nothing.

 But let me tell you what we have seen this week.  We walked into a building at Cradle of Love.  There were eight babies lying on a floor mat, and each baby was drinking milk from a bottle. There were three ladies holding babies and feeding them.  There were two babies in swings.  Five toddlers walked around the room.  Cradle of Love has 30 babies, all from newborns to two-years-old.  Precious.  Precious in His sight.

 We walked among 27 orphans (twice)  and were literally attacked and swamped by children who touched and wanted to be touched.

 We went to Malaika (angel) orphanage and met 14 orphans, 7 girls, 7 boys and 5 volunteers from all over the world, Canada, England, Italy, Holland and the United States.

 We went to visit a secondary school with Timias Joseph (19) and Godfrey (16) and we hope Called to Serve can help in that school.

 We met the founder of The Mango Tree, a British ministry, which ministers to 10,000 orphans and plans to double that number, ministered to this year.

 We taught The Resurrection Seminar at Kimyak TAG (Tanzania Assembly of God) and will lead worship on Sunday, and will conduct a funeral for a 12 year-old member of that church, tomorrow, which is Easter.   We praise God for Michael and Tiana Proudfoot who have been integrally involved in all that we have done and will do at Kimyak.

 We will talk to Legal Aid this week and they will help with future things Called to Serve is involved in.

 A night in a boma is planned for three German Mennonites on April 24 at Kimokoa.

 The business world has stopped, but God’s churches continue to fill for Called to Serve ministries (Kimyak TAG, Kilimoto TAG, Losito Baptist, Shalom Pentecostal, Engewa Baptist and two seminars at PAMC Pentecostal from May 14 - 16 and Kariat – Date to be announced.)  On the preaching schedule, waiting for dates, because invitations have been extended:  KIA Baptist, Oturumet Baptist, Olmuringaringa Baptist, Sambasha Baptist, Ebenezer Baptist – many of them Maasai churches.

 God is blessing.  Thank you for your prayers.  Thank you for giving financially.  Pray a grant to begin HIV/AIDS education in and around Mwanga is granted.   Thank you for being an integral and important part of Called to Serve.

 The world continues to rotate.  Ministries for Christ never stop.  I do not want to get off.  It is moving fast but I praise God Called to Serve



   

God still working on Me, to make me what I ought to be--- April 1 2009


Thomas a’Kempis wrote.  I read it.  He said, “If Thou deign to comfort me, be Thou blessed.  And if Thou wilt that I should be in trouble, be Thou ever equally blessed.  O Lord cheerfully for Thy sake will I suffer whatever.  I am willing to receive indifferently good and evil, sweet and bitter, joy and sorrow and for all that happens to me to give thanks.”

I begin my weekly article this way, because I am a strong believer that if I share innermost commitments with others, there is the aspect of being held responsible.  Help me.  God is so loving, understanding and forgiving He oftentimes lets me get away with a lot.  I write to you to help me be responsible to God and what He directs me privately to read and to vow.  I believe and accept what I read.

I preached this past Sunday at the Maasai church, Lesekartata.  We have been praying for rain for four months.  God answered that prayer Sunday.  The church was small and the roof was tin.  I stood up to preach and the rains came down with a vengeance.  After five minutes of loud shouting, nothing could be heard, but the rain.  Windows and doors of the church were closed.  Torrential winds and rains made us all feel we would be washed away.  I sat down.  The church stood up and literally sang and danced for fifteen minutes.  Though it was still raining, I stood in the center aisled of the church with my interpreter and we worshiped in Bible study.  After church they brought us goat meat and the rains which had lessened came back.  Heavily is a mile word for the rains that fell. 


We were invited to visit the pastor’s home, only two kilometers away.  I had had a flat tire late the night before, so the flat tire was in the back, but it did not hinder the filling of my car to hold twelve people.  All the windows fogged.  The rain fell.  Going down a hill, I was told, “Pinda keshoto (Turn left)”,  but the car would not stop.  I had no brakes.  Finally it stopped with the use of the handbrake.  All piled out of my car to fight the wind and the rain.  We were in the middle of nowhere, no house, no road, not hill, no people.  Four of us were stranded in open bush country in the middle of an awful storm.  I called a friend (two hours away in Arusha).  “I will call my mechanic,” he said.  “We will be there in two hours.”  Two men in my car could speak Swahili and directions were given.  I was able to turn the vehicle around and get to what is called a main road.   There is no road, because the Chinese won the bid to pave a road from Arusha to Nairobi, Kenya, but it was good for us to see large passing busses and trucks, because they made us feel less alone.

I had been without my vehicle because of major engine trouble for three weeks.  I had borrowed a diesel safari truck for several days.  Everyone in Arusha now thinks I stole that vehicle, because for four days I set off the alarm all over Arusha.  I then borrowed another utility truck and the clutch went out of that vehicle, stranding us in another part of Arusha.

I praise God for Jeanette Brannon, who was visiting with us.  Now we know what “the patience of Job” means.  A 19 hour trip to Kyela.  A trip to Longido.  A trip to Nyumba Ya Munga.  It has been a wonderful three weeks. Our computer broke down.  My ink cartridge on my laptop stopped working.  Our money was lost somewhere between New York City and Arusha, Tanzania.  I do not want any of my friends to say, “Ohhhh!  Poor Elton!”  God has blessed.

Safi, a male German shepherd, now lives on our compound.  Radi, the rabbit died.  Now we have Sukari, the cat, Kelele, the dog, Amani, the dog and Safi.
To make life more interesting, we have had no water for ten days.  Every night we put buckets of water we have gotten from friends in each bathroom.

Hopefully we will have water soon because we have Michael and Tiana Proudfoot coming to live with us next week, to begin adoption proceedings.  They pray to adopt Bahati, a precious little girl who was abandoned soon after she was prematurely born and discarded.  Thank you for your prayers.  We had lunch this week with Dolfy, a missionary to the Datoga tribe, one of the most primitive tribes in Tanzania.  Dolfy is from Wisconsin, married to Gilagwenda, a Datoga, and she reinforced the necessity and the dependence she has on prayer.  We are in civilization compared to Dolfy and Gilagwenda.  But we really need your prayers.  Also, we thank you for you financial help.  I have been to the tax people three days, showing them Called to Serve’s registration and that we are a non-governmental organization (NGO) and a non profit with only volunteers.  I need to go back once more.

Life has its unexpected turns and hazards, but God faithfully directs us all the way.  Thank you for all you do to help Him.  We serve you as well as Him.
 Thank you for encouraging emails.  Thank you for keeping us lifted up in prayer.  Thank you for your financial support, especially since we read of the economic difficulties in the USA and around the world.

God, be praised!  God, be thanked!  God, be acknowledged in all that is happening in our lives.

 “I beseech Thee my most gracious God, preserve me from the cares of this life.”



   

God Sees--- February 20 2009

        “Whatsoever Thou shalt do with me, it can be nothing but good.”  (Thomas a’Kempis, Imitation of Christ)

 
         In the film Dead Poet’s Society, the English teacher had all of his students stand on top their desks.  They saw things differently from up there. We see things the same old way down here unless we put ourselves in a place that is above everyone else.   To see life from God’s point of view we have to force ourselves to see it as He sees it.  Try to look at life from God’s eyes.  Isak Dinesan flew over Africa and she said, “I saw the world from God’s eyes.”

          Attempting to do that I would like you to see Africa from God’s eyes.  See Africans as God sees them.  Love Africans as God loves them.  You can’t see, feel, or love Africa, because you’re human beings on another continent, and have limited vision.

         I got upset a few months ago. I had purchased a small digital camera, when I was in the states.  I put it in my glove compartment. It had never been used.  In my car was a young man, a church member.  I stepped out of the car to greet some people.  We were going to the home of another church member, who had been in a dala-dala accident.  We were going to pray with and for her.  We did.  I genuinely love this young church member.  I feel like his grandfather.  He calls me dad.  When I arrived at my home that Sunday night, my camera was gone.  I have no idea who stole it, but being the amateur detective I sometimes am, I made up this scenario in my mind.   I saw him, alone in my car, satisfying his curiosity, investigating my glove compartment.  However, I just learned this week.  If he took my camera, he did not steal it.  We are friends.  We are kin.  What is mine is his.  If he took the camera, he saw the taking different from my seeing the taking.  God also saw it.  Only God knows.

          We get more generous than we should sometimes.  We met a young pastor when I preached at his church, Borders Baptist, on the Malawi border.  Hope, his wife, and he had a daughter and they named her Barbra, after my wife.  They are now students at the university.  We were asked later to lead the worship in Ngaramtoni.  That church needed a choir leader.  In Borders, I had watched a choir of twenty sit in a circle on the floor and the young pastor stepped into the center of that circle.  He said in English (he speaks eight languages) “God gave me this song last night.”  He hummed and pointed to his sopranos.  “That is your note,” he said.  He hummed again and gave the altos their note. He did the same for the tenors and the basses.  All opened their Bibles to a psalm and they sang the psalm in four-part harmony.  It was beautiful.  We offered to pay that talented young man a weekly amount, if he would work with the choir in Ngaramtoni. It would help him and the church would also benefit.  We paid more than we had agreed. He took it. Visiting in the home two weeks later with toys for Barbra, we learned that neither he nor his wife had ever been to the church in Ngaramtoni.  They had taken pay for work they had not done. They saw it as a gift to help them in school  We saw it differently  It also was seen by God.  A month later, (we have been busy) after putting some distance between us and this young family, just yesterday, I received a texted message on my phone. It read and I have not removed it from the phone yet, “Greetings in the name of Jesus.  Its long time without meeting with you and mama.  We miss a lot.  Now we are back again at MMU  We come with Barbara (our daughter).

        My prayer:  “Help me to see them as God sees them.”
 
        Africans have no sense of time.  They come to events.  That alone draws, not that the event has a beginning time.  Typing at the computer can be tiring, but I have five finished conferences.  I am leading one this week in Arusha.  I will be leading one in Longido with the village leaders in two weeks.  Barbara will also be leading one at Kimokoa at the same time.  We will be leading two in Kariat, on Nyumba ya Mungu March 15-19.  They will be well attended.  I sit alone in the church waiting for the crowd to arrive and I write this.

          The associate pastor has come in and apologized because about fifty people are coming, but he does not know when.  I see hours at the computer with the investment of energy to make this pastor’s seminar on The Mind of Christ interesting and appropriate to the students and pastors who will attend.   They, I, and God see it differently.  May God be honored, the pastors be taught, and I be satisfied with what I have done.  (It is over for the first day and they came.  Tomorrow, I have been told, the number will double, and when I finish on Saturday of this week, it will be hard to say how many people I will have taught.)
 
          I sat on the back pew of the church doing some planning for a lady coming next week and for a lady coming for three weeks in March.  I sensed I was being watched.  I looked up.  There stood Queenie and Winnie and Taimo.  Queenie spoke, “Good afternoon, sir.”  I spoke to them and asked them their names.  Immediately, the two nine-year-old girls ran around and sat next to me on the pew. Taimo, about eight, a boy with big sad eyes, stood by me saying nothing, but he leaned on his arms on the pew looking at me.   I love the eyes of the children.  
 
        After several minutes I discovered they boarded at the church school and after visiting with me, they ran off.  I went back to writing when I felt fingers going through my hair on the back of my head.  I looked around and it was Winnie.  She had to touch the back of my head.  The feel of my hair fascinated her.  Most children play with the hair on my arms.  It just draws them to me.  Most Maasai do not grow hair on their arms.

        The next morning, Saturday, I sat on the front pew, waiting to start teaching and at least fifteen little boys, friends of Taimo came to speak to me. I shook every hand and asked each boy what his name was.  When the last one told me his name, all fifteen ran out of the church.  Taimo just stood there.  He was the last to leave.  He smiled and ran away.
 
        I concluded the seminar on the Mind of Christ at Arusha Baptist Church by preaching to them on Sunday.  I taught Sunday School at 7:30 A.M.  I preached at 8:30 A.M.  Worship was finished at 11:15 A.M.  I was given chai and chapati and I was to preach at the 11:30 service, which finished at 2:05 P.M.  I had arrived a few minutes early.  I was greeted by two ladies cleaning the church, making ready for a full day of worship and celebration.  I sat on the front pew and reviewed what I would teach and preach.  I only tell you what I saw.

        A third lady, dressed for church in a blue and white kanga, who later dusted all the pulpit furniture and all the wooden pews, entered the sanctuary.  I was concentrating on my reviewing, when I heard whispers that got a bit louder, then very loud and fast. When I turned to see who had come in, the three ladies stood in a circle and were holding hands and praying.  They prayed aloud for over five minutes and they they went back to work.  I saw it. They were completely involved in praying and only saw God.  God saw it. I just wanted you to see it.
 
      Isaiah saw life and specifically the individual’s life form God’s eyes.  That is why he said in Isaiah 4:9-10  “I said, ‘You are my servant.  I have chosen you and have not rejected you.  So do not fear, for I am with you.

       Do not be dismayed for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you.  I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
 
       “Do with me whatsoever it shall please Thee.”  (Thomas a’Kempis – Imitation of Christ)

       We praise God for your being there for us with your prayers and gifts. Your generosity I see and I praise God for you. The Tanzanians are told, so they see.  But know for certain, God sees.


   

Mungu Wanga ( Nearer My God to Thee)--- February 3 2009


            It was beginning to rain.  The road was extremely rough. Yesterday, it had been so dusty, the car was engulfed by thick clouds of dust, dust that left a trail several car lengths behind it.  Each time the road required the car to stop, dust would swallow the car and it would cause the dust to swirl and create dust designs on all the windows.  But the rain had eliminated completely all dust.  Now it was slippery mud on top of holely hard rocky roads.

          Then she appeared.  Walking quickly, she had been caught in the downpour.  I am sure she had thought she could get home.  The dark sky and the loud thunder claps had warned her the downpour was coming.  Probably she was used to such sudden storms in the past.  She knew the heavy rain would last only five minutes and then the sun would reappear as bright and as hot as it had been before the brief rain had come.  Just as quickly, it would go away.

             She had five trees tied together on her head.  They were about three inches each in diameter.  They were at least eight feet long.  She was carrying tree lumber on her head.  She was walking quickly in the rain, passing me.  She was going down and I was going up.


             Her dress is what inspired this writing.  I have been jotting down small things I have experienced all week, but I was floundering for something to connect the kaleidoscope of colorful happenings. She did it.

             She wore a gray sweater.  She had a blue and white designed kanga wrapped around her waist.  Under the kanga was a maroon long skirt.  On her head under the wood was a yellow/orange piece of material.  On her feet were pink tennis shoes.  The assortment of colors she wore had no plan.  It was almost painful to see.  She did not care.  She had probably no mirror in her boma.  She had dressed to get a load of wood and it would be used to build a fire for cooking or for warmth.  (Even when I think the evenings are wonderful, they think it is cold.)  A color coordinated fashion statement was not even a consideration.  No thought had been given to her dress that morning.  It was functional.  It was getting wet, but it covered her.


             This all began when we had gone to Stiggy’s to eat, earlier that week.

             “That’ life.”

            Her name is Regina.  She works as a waitress at Stitggy’s.  Stiggy is a chef from Australia.  We eat at his place often.  Regina always waits on us.  Since the last week in November, 2008, Regina had been absent.  We asked and were told she was riding in a taxi and it had been hit and destroyed by a large truck. Regina had broken her jaw and had at least thirty other injuries.

 
           Eating at Sitggy’s this week, January 29, 2009, Regina was our waitress.  We expressed our concern for her, and were so glad to see her.  She, with her head still wrapped in a scarf, still healing, said, “That’s life.”

            No complaint.  No explanation.  It had happened.  It was not expected or planned.  Life goes on.  Now she is healing and is doing what she had been doing, and she will continue to wait tables and enjoy her customers.  We are glad to know Regina.


             Sitting on the pulpit platform this past Sunday morning, before a congregation of forty-seven (I counted) I listened to five choirs.  When one finished, another lady began to sing and she would stand.  Then several ladies and men stood and danced forward to the front of the church.  The song that was sung had only one purpose and that was to announce which group would come forward and sing.  Then the beautiful harmonies and practiced movements would accent the sung words.

            The final choir was the children.  There were sixteen children. One little thirteen-year-old stood and began singing and all the children stood up where they were seated and all came to the front.  After each choir had performed, their church family applauded.


             The pastor handed me a red Swahili hymnal, opened to the hymn all present would stand and sing just before the sermon.

             It was Mungu Wanga (Nearer My God to Thee).

             I have no idea what heavenly choirs sound like.  Emotionally and spiritually that church (and I do believe every person in it belonged in a choir and had sung already) stood and lifted me to a realm I sensed.  It was almost an out-of-body experience.  It was genuine worship.  I could feel it.
 
            He touched me.

 
            I am reading Isak Dineson’s book, “Out of Africa.”  I just read words that were copyrighted in 1937. “He faces any change in life with great calm.”  She is describing the people of Africa.  A calm reserve, a type of resignation, a quiet acceptance would describe the demeanors of the people I have introduced to you.
 

            Shackled by a heavy burden.

            ‘Neath a load of sin and pain.

            Then the hand of Jesus touchéd me.

            And now I am no longer the same.

 
            He touched me.

            Yes.  He touched me.
 
            Something happened.

            And now I know.

            He touched me, and made me whole.


 
            At 5:51 A.M. this morning, I awoke.  There is no describing why.  It was dark, but the roosters were crowing.  The sky was getting light, off in the distance.  I reached for my Bible, and I began reading where I had stopped reading last night.  I had awakened with the words “He Touched Me” sounding in my heart and mind.  I had stopped reading at Acts 12:5.  So Acts 12:6 was next to be read.  It reads, “Peter was sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains; and the keepers before the door kept the prison.  And behold, the angel of the Lord came upon him and a light shined in the prison: and he smote Peter on the side and raised him up, saying Arise up quickly.  And his chains fell off from his hands.”

 
            Something happened

            And now I know.

            He touched me and made me whole.

             We pray God touches you.  Be sensitive to His touch.
 


   

God Blesses with Surprises--- January 28 2009


            Tuesday morning, January 27, 2009, I stopped at the petrol station close to the house.  We have been living in Njiro since May, 2008.  We had had a team come to Tanzania in March of that year.  Each person on that team had brought ten Bibles.  One morning, Yashinda, the petrol station manager, greeted me and asked about Called to Serve.  I gave her a Bible.  She was so delighted she asked me the next time I stopped if I could give all her employees a Bible.  The next day, I gave out thirteen Bibles to all who were at the petrol station.  All of her boys got a Bible.  One older employee, Samuel, was not present so on another day Samuel asked for a Bible.  I had distributed all the Bibles the March team had brought, so I bought Samuel a Swahili Bible.  I have promised Daudi, a new service station attendant, a Bible.
 
            I have always, all my life, been blessed by Gideon testimonies about how the Bible, read by a person who randomly picked it up, was changed and saved by what he read.
 

            Paying for the petrol, I commented to Teday (pronounced t – day) and Mohamad, two young men who work at the station, why they were dressed in street clothes, and not the long red cotton overjackets they usually wear.  Teday said, “We worked all night last night.  Now we are going home. You are going that way.  Can you give us a ride?”  I said yes.  Teday sat in the front seat and Mohamad got in the back.  Mohamad sat up so he could be part of our conversation.  Teday said to me, “I did not get a Bible.  Could you get me one?  I love reading the Bible.  It helps me get closer to God.”  Teday is 23.  I had forgotten Mohamad’s name, so I asked him again and said, “That makes two Bibles I will get.”  Mohamad said, “You gave me one when you gave everybody else one.  Now I want to be a Christian.”

 
            I almost ran off the road. This young man wanted to give his life to Jesus and change his religious affiliation and become a Christian.  He had read the Bible given to him last May.

             Thank God, I was there to hear his desire to become a Christian.  Since you were not present, I wanted to tell you what happened.
 
Elton


Just a Few Adventures--- January 27 2009

              I received an email birthday card last week and one wish for my life was adventure.  I was rejoicing in life as it was being lived.  Adventure is different for every person, but life for me is always an adveture.

              I praise God for my grandmothers who taught me most I know and helped me become who I am.  Fertilizing flowers and gardens was always a dirty task, but beautiful flowers and large productive gardens were the results.  As a small child, I was taught well.

             I was advised to add rich manure from local barns to make my flowers and yard look better than they do.  My man, Francis, and I were filling ten Simba concrete bags with “rich dirt” to put around my plants.  Walking with empty concrete bags along a path through dozens of banana trees, a pile of manure loomed up in that grove of trees.  Praise God for Francis’ muscle.  He tackled that unpleasant pile with gusto.  My job was to hold the empty bags as he shoveled it.  (“It” describes the pile well.)  After filling the first bag, Francis picked it up and carried it about 500 feet to a wheelbarrow on the path.  As I stepped to the side to give him room to pass, I fell.  Into the pile of manure.  It does dry and it can be brushed off.  I alarmed the entire village.            

           We emptied the car at our house, and I left to run two fast errands, before I cleaned up, and I was stopped by two women, dressed like policewomen, who made several attempts to fine me, because I did not have an inspection sticker.  After telling them I had been here two years and each year had the car inspected.  I would not have been given the sticker by the TRA if the car had not been inspected.  Because I have been stopped by the police about seven times, I told them they were the first to tell me about the need for that particular sticker.

           I was going to the police station and do what was necessary.  When I came out of the bank, I tried to find the ladies to get their names.  They were gone.  They had disappeared.  I made one telephone call and realized it had been a scam and this white man, covered in ng’ombe (cow) manure had not given them any money.  I was spared, praise God.

             I then went to purchase oil for my car, and a hose sprung a leak.  The car was overheating.  So now, my car needed repairing, and all at the garage noticed and commented on my dirty trousers.  I was still covered in “rich dirt.”            

           To me, the morning had been full of adventure, and I had not climbed a mountain or killed a lion.

             However the real adventures have filled our lives the last three days.  Scripture was read at Sekei Lutheran Church, where I preached Sunday morning.  The Scripture comes from Matthew 13:17 and it reads,
“. . . righteous men have desired to see those things which you see and have not seen them and to hear those things which you hear and have not heard.”  Let me try to help you see and to hear.            

            We met Gunter and his wife, Elka, and their daughter, Nadine Wagonhauser from Germany on Thursday.  They wanted to see and meet the Maasai.  On Friday, we picked them up and went to Kimokoa.
We ate lunch in downtown Longido, a genuine Maasai meal.  We went to Kimokoa Kanisa first and were part of a prayer meeting for rain.  All were invited to greet the Maasai who were there.  We then went to four bomas and met the mothers and the newborns.  Four of them, two and three weeks olds.  We went inside each boma, and prayed for each mother and each child.   We finished the day with dinner at Kahn’s Barbecue, Chicken in the Ditch, a hardware store by day and a barbecue eating place at night.  We met two other German people from Alberta, Canada, and the two German couples became friends at a rustic Tanzanian eating place.  
            

           Saturday, Duyk Lugendo, the police chief of Moshi was met and he got excited about the possibility of teaching Christian ethics to his young policemen and the beginning of an ethical attack on corruption here.
I scheduled in June, 2009 two nights at Moshi Corporate and Business College and I will preach at Kilimanjaro Baptist Church on Sunday, February 1, with the plans to roof their church in the future.  It was a full day, but a day where Called to Serve is now stepping into another community.   
         

           This past Sunday, January 25, 2009, I preached three times at Sekei Lutheran and handed bread wafers and said “Jesus died for you” to over 1000 people who came to all three services.  Now we have the invitation to go up near Mount Meru to preach there.  English classes began tonight.  Copies of the lesson had been made to distribute and to help the people to study their Bible.  Two ministers were in attendance and they wish to know how to speak English better, so they can be better ministers.
            

            I have always regarded myself as an “eye” person.  I love to watch people’s eyes.  At the 7:00 A.M. service, there were at least 700 people present.  They take up two offerings.  The women are on the right, (about 250) and the men are on the left (about 250).  The choirs (two of them, at least 60 people) are on either side of the church.  The new section at the back (about 150).  Three offering baskets are placed at the front of each group and as the choirs sing, every person passes the offering basket and gives (twice.)            

           I could see everyone well from where I sat on the platform.            

           I supposed that years of doing it, people just know where the line begins and each pew empties as people come forward to give.  One little boy was on the ladies’ side of the church and he came from the opposite side and was going against the tide of ladies.  Everyone was passing in front of me, going to my left.  He, alone, was going to my right, trying to get to the basket.  Finally, after at least a dozen attempts, the ladies stopped, and allowed him

           Finally, after at least a dozen attempts, the ladies stopped and allowed him to give his offering.  It was a 50 shilling piece (five cents), but his eyes were full of joy, when he finally got his coin in the basket.
            

            The third service was led by 70 year-old Lazaro Zablon.  There is much litany read at the close of a Lutheran service.  I was dressed in a black robe, with a white silk robe on top and the clerical cloth draped around my neck and shoulders.  I was representing their pastor who was at one of his mission churches.  I was given communion as the wafer and cup of grape wine were given to me as I knelt, alone, at the altar.
I almost cried at the solemnity that was all around me.

            

         Then as Lazaro concluded the worship time, I watched his eyes.  He had probably read that litany for over 50 years.  His genuine faith in what he was reading could be seen.  His eyes shone and his expression was more than mundane reading.
            

          At the close of each service, the entire congregation made a circle in front of the church.
           

          Then three eggs and a sheaf of green grass for goats or cows to eat were auctioned.   Someone had brought those items as their offering.  At the close of the service, the items are auctioned and the money is given to the church.
         

           Adventure.  In my mind and heart, each of those experiences was an adventure. 

           Bring Me More Adventures!



         

Mungu Bariki ( God Bless)--- January 16 2009

 

            They walked into the front door at the rear of the church very slowly.  At first, they were dark silhouettes with a bright sunlit door behind them.  Each step was taken cautiously as they approached the people seated down front.  Entering the sanctuary quietly, Sunday school for the adults had just begun, about fifty ladies and seven men.  I was seated on their left, where I could see everyone and all the movements.  I was not a part of any group.  I was the white visiting guest speaker.  I had preached at the 8:00 A.M. service.  I was to preach at the 11:30 A.M. service.  I was enjoying people-watching.  It was reminiscent of my boyhood experiences in my grandparents’ country church, women on one side, men across the aisle.

           

            Clear plastic roofing periodically allowed light from above and outside to brighten the sanctuary.  It had been placed randomly in the tin roof, about twelve feet above the people.  The light accented the colorful dress of the worshipers below.

 

            Stepping ever so carefully toward the other men, it became obvious they were an older couple.  She was holding his hand.  Rarely, if ever, do African couples even acknowledge each other’s presence.  Never is there any public demonstration of being together.  This older couple, these two were holding hands.  She was dressed in bright blue and white.  He was dressed in light gray.  He was carrying a matching hat and a long walking stick.  He was blind.

 

            She greeted the other men.  Smiles and silent gestures of friendship and help were exchanged.  He was given a front row seat.  Immediately, he bowed his head, causing me to wonder what he was praying.  He, with the help of his friend seated with him, had put his guiding cane in the dust under the rough wooden pew.

 

            Crossing the aisle her lady friends made room for her to be seated with them.  She bowed her head in prayer as she sat down.

 

            Such genuine care and such unpretentiousness was my message for the day.  What I had just seen had made my day worth living.  Such scenes have a way of touching my soul, enriching me, but it had been brief.  Something else grasped my attention and that moment was stored somewhere in my memory bank for future withdrawal.  

 

            A dwarf lady caught my attention, as she attentively listened.

 

            The class ended.  The choirs (two of them) took their places on either side of the large sanctuary.

 

            Singing began.  Dancing was natural.  I have been told that Africans cannot sing without moving.

 

            On the front row of the adult choir sat the dwarfed lady.  Two ladies to her right was another lady.  She was dressed in a yellow blouse, a red and black kanga skirt with red and yellow polka dots, and a neon green headscarf.


She was older and badly bent over.  She could not stand up straight.  Because most present were Maasai, always during the first hour of singing and dancing, there is jumping.  The worship leader sings the instructions and even a foreigner like me knows when the chorus calls for jumping.  The brightly dressed stooped lady began to jump, like she was a tall straight youngster.

 

            Then it was testimony time.  I am grateful for my interpreter, because he not only makes me sound good, but he also tells me what is happening.  He translated all the testimonies to me.   Testimonies came from lives and lips that live within five miles of that church and from people who have never and will never see anything or anyone, except what makes up their world.  Their world, I think, is so limited.  There is no complaint, only rejoicing and shouts, and applause and smiles and genuine expressions that stimulate and motivate, humble and convict me.

 

            Two ladies stood on the second row.  One of them was the lady in blue and white, who took such good care of her blind husband.  She helped her lady friend to the front of the church.  By that lady’s stagger, her ability to walk or even to stand alone caused me concern. She spoke Swahili.  The pastor, Saitoti, interpreted to his Maasai congregation.  My interpreter translated to me in English.  That lady, with a smile on her face, talked to her church friends and thanked them for their prayers for her, because she had been given the chance to see a new year and to worship with them that morning. 

 

            I sat amazed, because I have not heard such wisdom and I have been outside that five mile circle, most of my life.

 

            At the close of the service three people made professions of faith, coming forward to tell the world publically the importance of Jesus Christ in their lives.  The third one to come forward with the help of a friend was the blind man in gray with his walking stick.

 

            So often I complain and I am one of the healthiest men alive.  I don’t take the time I should to number my blessings.  Sunday, January 11, 2009, at Sambasha Kanisa in the Timpolo district at the base of Mount Meru, I felt that God had done it all for me.

 

            They waved their hands before every testimony and the entire church waved back.

 

            Dala-dala drivers test my patience daily as I drive in their world.  I often wonder about the slogans written on their rear windows, and they all have them.  As I drove home from Sambasha on Sunday, the slogan on the back of one dala-dala encapsulated my experience for that day.  

            It read, “Tough Ain’t Enough!”

 

 

 


Good News Only in That Eternal Homecoming is Good---December 30 2008

  

            Every time I write, something has happened to bring great joy to my heart and I love the memories for they bring a happiness to my mind.   Hopefully, it also blesses you, the reader.

 

             My heart hurts tonight.  I do not intend to make you hurt, but it is at times like this, faith is necessary.  So though my weekly article is sad, may we all find comfort in the reality of God’s presence.

 

            I tell you often of texted cell phone messages I receive and how meaningful they are to me.

 

            Yesterday, Monday, December 29, I received a text message from “rafiki yangu” (my friend) Fanuel Kiroka at Spillway on Lake Nyumba ya Mungu (House of God).  “Pray.  We believe one of my students is dead.”  I called immediately.  I received the text, “Oliver Elijah is missing.   They cannot find his body.”  I made a return call, “Keep me posted.”  Later, “They are still searching the lake and all the surrounding villages.”  Fanuel said to me, “Oliver has no parents, no mother, no father.  I will act as his father.”

 

            Two months ago I preached at Kariat and that Sunday I met Oliver.  Even before I met him, I was impressed.  He played the drum for worship.  He did not just hit a drum with two sticks.  He became totally involved and his lively nature made his drum playing outstanding.  He was a young man, in his early twenties.  He was single and had a girlfriend.  He felt called into the ministry, though at the time he was a fisherman.

 

            Last month I taught a class of fifteen for four days at Kariat, where Oliver lived and worked.  To begin and to end every class, my students would sing, and Oliver played.  It was so exciting.  I have investigated and planned to record them and to burn the playing and the singing on a CD to play in my car for them to hear.  Barbara and I are scheduled to teach in Kariat in March.  That was my deadline.  I wanted Oliver and all his friends and even friends in the USA to hear his playing and their singing.  I wanted to do this, because Selah (a CD we own and listen to, often) has just such African music on a CD and coming and going to class in Kariat that group listened but also sang with that CD.  I wanted them to accompany themselves.

 

            The last day at Kariat, as I was planning to leave, Oliver asked to ride with me back to Arusha.  We could not find him because he had gone to a hair salon.  He was getting his hair cut.  He was going to ride with me to see his girlfriend in Arusha.  He and Alfred, another of my students were planning a double wedding ceremony in April, 2009.

   

            I have many habits, some good, some bad, but if I teach you or relate in anyway to you, I put the possessive pronouns “my” and “mine” on you.  You are my student.   You are my friend.  You are mine.  Oliver Elijah was one on my boys.

 

            Oliver was a young fisherman on Nyumba ya Mungu.  He and another of my students, Isaac Tumaini (meaning Hope), both studying to be preachers, were partners in the fishing business. Pray for Isaac, who may have been with Oliver, but I cannot imagine the pain Isaac is feeling.  Twelve of those students were neighbors and close friends.  All my boys, those young men, I ask you to pray for.

 

            I have noticed, even last Wednesday, as I was at Olevolos, after months of being away, faces change, people move, leaders of worship are new, seldom does anything remain the same, here.  I believe because death by whatever means is so prevalent, we Americans don’t deal with death the way Tanzanians do.  Death is a real part of life.  It happens, but life goes on.

 

            Even as a Christian minister and teacher, one who selfishly prides himself in Bible knowledge, the news of a death, the mental pictures of a smiling, vibrant, very mobile person, now not on earth, is devastating, causing me dysfunctional moments.

 

            I do not know how many times I have spoken aloud to an unknown, “Oliver.  Please show up somewhere around that lake.  I want to hug you and praise God with you in this world.  I want to go to your wedding.  I want to hear you preach.”

 

            Thank you for your prayers.  Thank you for your financial support.  Thank you for caring and being there for me.  I have been asked to help with his funeral.  It will only be about $250.00.  It only costs $80.00 for a “good casket.”  But they do not have anything.

 

            As I sit here, tonight, (December 29, 2008) and talk to you, I am searching for appropriate scripture, the right thing to say.  I even have recalled sermons that I have preached, “not to lose faith,” “to walk into heaven and what a joy that is,” “I will come again and receive you unto myself that where I am, there ye may be also.”  Jesus said that.

 

            He was such a young man.  Once again, the Tanzanians are ministering to me.  I am the only one, it seems, with questions.  The faith they are showing me, astounds me.

 

           God bless and use you to serve Him,

 

           Barbara and Elton


My Mood Changed---December 26 2008

             

       Moods are so unpredictable.  No one, I know, can control a mood when it decides to overwhelm you.  Mood control is a difficult thing to do.  Even when a person becomes aware and acknowledges why certain moods weigh heavy on his heart and mind, moods change.  There are people who experience heavy unhappy moods, prompted only at Christmas.  Christmas is the season of joy, good-will, family, friends, social events, and spiritual highs, but oftentimes emotional lows.  Psychiatrists, psychologists and scholars of temperament and human nature give reasons for seasonal moods.

 

            Many times, even from childhood, a red wagon, an erector set, a Lionel train, the most perfect outfit are only momentary releases, but the mood is there.  It will not go away.

 

            Let me tell you about Christmas, 2008, our third Christmas in Tanzania.  The sunshine woke us this beautiful Christmas morning.  Six emails awaited us on the computer; five friends in the USA and one family in Costa Rica had sent Christmas greetings.  Three locals gave us cards.  Our neighbor and six nationals texted Christmas goodwill.  Two phones calls from friends in the USA made the day better. Gifts were exchanged.  Christmas dinner was prepared for the cooking, later in the day.  There was still no water, so a bucket of cold water collected the night before, was taken into the shower with something to pour it over a very warm body.  It was an eye-opening experience in itself.

 

            We were prepared, we thought, but not for a first in celebrating Christmas.

 

            Driving to Olevolos at noon on Christmas Day was an adventure. Olevolos is a church, but there are over 278 children who make that church alive.  At 12:01. having made two wrong turns onto roads that led to jungle homes, the right road was found.

 

            The day had begun with my talking to myself, instructing myself to see sunshine, the greetings we had received, the gifts, my health, and water collected in buckets, (Thank God we have buckets!) and the positives that make life wonderful, but I was inclined toward a heavy mood.  I wanted the mood for Christmas to be light and positive.   A hug from my neighbor, and hopes of seeing national friends helped me put negative mood makers out of my mind.

 

            Walking down a dusty road, under banana trees, greeting the Maasai widows in neat mud huts, had its positive influence on my mood.  In my hands were the Bible and the Communion Service sermon.  Approaching the church, loud speakers with heavy bass beats and a rhythm that stirs souls could be heard. (Later, I was told by Nzamu, the pastor from the Congo, Africans can not sing without moving.)  A youth choir of twenty was lined up outside the front door and it was a lively gyrating happy group of teenagers.  Slipping into the back door, the sanctuary was packed with children.  Quickly going to the front of the church, the twenty youth danced into the church, singing, saying a lot more with their bodies than with the Swahili they were singing.

 

The joy and celebration was obvious.

 

            Vigagalele sounds, that are the side-to-side tongue-movement which produces high-pitched sounds of the ladies present, filled the room.  It all announced the beginning of happy worship.  Most of those children had had no presents, no homes, maybe a widowed grandmother, or a mud shed where they slept.  They were happy.  Not one of them had had a visit from Father Christmas.  Not one of the two hundred plus had opened a gift.  Half of them did not know what a Christmas tree was.  Decorations.  Lights.  Gifts.  Cards.  Christmas Eve.  All those things were foreign and probably unknown to all who were present.  Nothing the world has labeled Christmas has ever been experienced by these happy, dancing, singing, celebrating children.

 

             All the children were asked to leave and to go to a nearby boma to hear the Christmas story read to them.  I preached to 15 or 20 youth and about 11 adults.  Then we had communion.  It was the first time for all of them to have the Lord’s Supper.  As I had asked, they had a solid loaf of bread from which all present pinched a piece of bread.  Bathroom cups, Barbara and I had given them, were distributed to all Communion participants.  I poured a little ginger beverage in each cup.  It was one of the most unique experiences I had ever had and all of a sudden I realized my mood had changed.  It was no longer an internal thing.  I was allowing the mood in that room to positively affect and change my mood.

 

            I was enjoying Christmas as I never had.

 

            After Communion, lively CD music was played.  The children returned and the dancing and the excitement and genuine joy of being together happened.

 

            It was almost 3:00 P.M.  I knew we had dinner plans.  Every child sat down.  A plate of rice and soup was given to each child.  Buckets were brought into the room.  They were full of small containers of fruit drinks and each child got one.  Not one, of all the children present, began to drink until every child held up his or her drink container.  

 

            They brought the adults lunch.

 

             We then had a baby dedication.  Praise God I am old enough to know where to find appropriate scriptures for such impromptu tasks.

  

            As I was excusing myself, I was told the children and all present wanted me to slice the Christmas cake, which had been prepared for all those children.  I did not know when I said yes to slicing a cake, it meant I had to wait for “A Minnie Mouse” designed and decorated cake to be brought by a dancing parade through the jungle with that twenty voice youth choir dancing and singing in a straight line behind it.  It was a half-hour ceremony to get the cake brought to me, so that I might slice it for 250 people.

 

            I had thought all activities since noon was celebrative.  The volume, the excitement, the entrance of that cake reached indescribable proportions of celebration.  Celebrating the Marti Gras, the last Super Bowl Game, or a Nascar victory cannot compare to the joy and shouting and excitement of a Minnie Mouse Christmas cake in the jungles of Olevolos.

 

            Driving through our gate at 5:15 P.M. the mood of Christmas morning had no likeness to the mood of Christmas evening.

 

            I read Christmas night from Thomas a’ Kempis.

 

            “Speak to me, for the amendment of my whole life.”

 

            God did that today, Christmas day, 2008.

 

 “If you are truly wise, you will rejoice in Me alone and you will hope in Me alone.”

 

            They did and they do and they helped me celebrate Christmas as I never have.

 

            Today, the day after Christmas, I began the day with this reading.

 

“Cease to complain.  Consider My Passion and the sufferings of My Saints.  You have “not yet resisted unto blood.”  Your sufferings are little in comparison with the sufferings of those who bore so much, who were so strongly tempted, were so grievously afflicted, so variously tried and exercised.  You ought, then, to recall to mind the heavier trials of others, that you may bear more lightly your own little troubles.  And if they do not seem very small to you, take care that it be not your impatience which magnifies them.”

 

            Happy New Year!  We love you.  Barbara and Elton


 

Merry Christmas!!!---December 25 2008

Many people will get digital cameras for Christmas.  Pictures of loved ones dressed up for Christmas will be taken.  Decorated trees, lights, and gifts being unwrapped will be snapped.  Surprised looks, happy faces, the   infant’s first Christmas, maybe Grandpa’s last will be recorded to enjoy many years from now.  It’s too bad a camera cannot record sounds of excitement, joy, pleasure, unforgettable remarks.

 

Flash! Snap! It becomes a pictured memory.

 

May your Christmas be full of such moments.

 

Often, it is said, “Where is there a camera when you need one?”

 

The brain snaps.  The mind records.  The memory makes the experience indelible.

 

Here are a few Verbal Christmas Snapshots, we have recorded during the past year.

 

The snapshot may be dated to help the memory recall the happening.

 

December 22, 2008 – The water tank is empty.  The sink faucets are dry.  Toilets will not flush.  There is no water to be used for cooking.  There is no water on the Called to Serve compound.  Arusha Water Supply has been visited twice.  Repairmen have repaired the old non-functioning lines.  I was told to watch what was done to be sure purchased supplies were used.  When they finally dug up muddy and corroded lines, in English, I asked my worker to translate, I said, “I am an old man, and those lines are as old as me.”  There will be no water today, but I have been promised I will have water on December 24.

 

It is hot.  The sun is shining.  White clouds with no rain permeate the bright blue sky.  A truck just passed with loud speakers blaring and young people dancing advertising the latest cell phone company.   The most obvious changes in Africa are cell phone towers on hillsides.  Every person has a cell phone.  In the last three years Africans have learned that if they dial your cell phone, it displays their names, so you can call them back and it costs them nothing.  I’m sure it is done elsewhere in the world, but African newspapers tell us such use of cell phones has become an African norm.

 

Heri Christmasi!

 

Picture this.   A Tanzanian young man, driving a dark gray Toyota, puts 2,000.00 shillings (about $2.00) in his car.  He almost backs into me, because he is talking on his cell phone.  As my mother used to say, “If looks could kill.”  It was clear I was not a favorite person in his day.

 

 

Feliz Navidad!

  

Picture this.  Nyumba ya Mungu (House of God) is 43 kilometers southeast of Moshi with Mount Kilimanjaro reflected in it.  All the clouds have blown away.  A majestic mountain lies, floating on the lake, with the real mountain rising behind it.

 

Bon Natale!

 

Picture this.  A church, Enkonkidongoi, that will hold 200 comfortably, is filled with 300 people, five choirs and they each sing a special, moving rhythmically as they sing, three ladies running all over the church waving colorful kangas, demonstrating the invitation and covering of the Holy Spirit.

 

Joyeux Noelle

 

Picture this.  A little boy on the shoulders of his brother in a youth choir, dancing and singing in Arusha.

 

Frohe Weihnachten

 

Picture this.  Grace Evangelical, in a building with three walls, and half its congregation sitting under nearby trees, with a Maasai marketplace across the road, with thousands of people buying and selling cattle, goats and sheep and an assortment of vegetables and fruit rarely seen anywhere else in this world.  The church speaker system ministers to that crowd.

 

Happy New Year!

 

Picture this.  A youth group in Ngaramtoni Lutheran Church (SOS), all responding to an altar call and prayers being offered, tears flowing, smiles and hugs being shared.

 

God Bless You This Christmas!

 

Picture this.  A tree with rocks under it where Kimokoa, a Maasai church, worshiped.  Now they sit on long logs under a tin roof on manmade bricks and with tears of joy they remember last year they all were sitting under that tree they now point to.

 

Bwana Asifiwe!

 

Picture this.  An orphanage with 24 children under nine.  Ten of them are infants.  They now have six more, four babies and two small children, who sleep in the director’s, Josephat’s, bed.  Now they are happy well-fed, cared for children.  Once they were abandoned and left.

 

Quick Unforgettable Snapshots

 

Three young boys, maybe 8 or 9, standing up in a dumpster, digging for food.

 

David, a two-year-old, running towards me and getting in my lap and eating raspberry gelati.

 

A frightened older couple, who had just escaped with their lives from Zimbabwe.

 

A happy street boy, because he had been given $.50.

 

An old Indian (from India) man wrapping a necktie for me, giving me back 1000.00 shillings, charging me less than $4.00 for the tie, inviting me to come back and shop in his duka.

 

Sofia’s smile.

 

Luis, half Italian and half Tanzanian, and his not shaving, because I haven’t shaved for nearly a month, and he wants to be like me.

 

Little John Undole, being carried to the hospital by his father, Peter, so limp with malaria, he cannot move, but he tried to smile when I spoke to him.

 

A week-old infant girl’s little hand wrapped around my index finger at Saniwari.

 

A hole of water in the jungle, crossing the road as we carefully ventured through it on the way to Magugu.

 

A text message on my cell phone from a former student, now living and working in Dar es Salaam,  “You have been invited to attend the birthday party of Jesus Christ on December 25, 2008 at the home of Elton and Barbara Cooke.   Bring this invitation with you.”

 

Acknowledge and enjoy the presence of Jesus Christ in your home this Christmas.


Barbara and Elton


  An Anniversary of Sorts---December 19 2008

  
 
            Today is Friday, December 19, 2008.  Barbara and I stepped off a KLM plane two years ago, tonight. It was dark and raining.  (I just came inside, because it has just started raining, reminiscent of two years ago.)

Each of us had two suitcases.   That was the total of any possessions we had. A friend we had made the previous August was waiting at the airport with a truck.  His name is Conrad Holli. 


 
            We had sat on the front steps of our sold, empty house in Richmond, Virginia, , on September 11, 2006 and watched two trucks drive away with all we had collected for 41 years.  I said to Barbara, “We may never see our furniture again.  Are you ready for that?”  She said, “Yes.”  The international movers had told us it would be delivered to our home in Africa by December 24, 2006.  We received it January 29, 2007.  It was shipped by way of Israel
.


 
            So we have another important date in our lives – December 19, 2006.

             In the luggage was a camping air mattress for one person.  The two of us put it in the middle of the bedroom floor.  The house had nine rooms.  For over a month the two of us slept on that air mattress, awakened every morning by African sounds.


 
            Looking back on 41 years of marriage we have been blessed because our lives have been so full.  Our critics may not think so, for they are looking at other things.  Everyone believes he or she has a book inside to write describing lives lived. 

             Praise God for the past two years.  Praise God for life as He has directed and controlled.  Praise God for your prayers, your financial gifts, your visits, everything you have done to cause our lives here to be so full.  Good or bad, you have made us wiser and spiritually richer.

             
              Now I hear two or three of you saying, “Elton.  You have been in Africa too long!”  Those of you, who know me, know that the Cooke brain is active most of the time.  Because I am paranoid, I imagine somebody saying, “Let the brain rest.”  That causes in my mind a theological question, “Will the brain rest for eternity or will the mind be everlastingly active?”

            
          The subject.  Flies.  I have observed African flies act differently from USA flies.  That means African flies must think different from USA flies.  That causes me to wonder, “Do flies think?”  I would like to hear the opinion of anyone who reads this. 

            
           I have much to do (believe it or not) and to plan, but getting into a very hot car this week, there were three very pesky flies flying frantically about.  In the USA, such scenarios happen, but when the window is rolled down, USA flies immediately head for the fresh air and freedom.  I find myself scripting for the fly, “Boy, am I glad to
get out of this hot car.”  But it is not so in Africa.  The flies seem to be seeking a way to escape, but when the windows are lowered they fly up, sense fresh air and potential freedom and fly back into the hot car.  Then I, the intelligent human being that I am, script for the fly, “I’m not leaving this vehicle.  I am going to fly around inside this car and bother you human beings until I die in this heat.”

            
           May all who read this know that we say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.  May your holiday be a happy one, filled with much good health.  May God bless you.

            
           Walter Lecumo’s daughter, Gloria, from our first house in Arusha, is confirmed this Sunday.

            
           We lead a worship service at Olevolos Orphanage Christmas Day and lead in Communion.

            
           We show the Jesus Film at Kimokoa on New Year’s Eve.

            
          We preach and lead worship at Olturumet on
January 4, 2009.

            
          We preach and lead worship at Sambasha on January 11, 2009.

            
          A conference of 50 pastors will be led at Sambasha from January 12 – January 14, 2009.

            
         We go to Kyela to lead two conferences, one for pastors, one for women, January 24-29, 2009.

            
         God is good.  He blesses us and uses us in so many ways.

              
         Visiting Samaritan Village this past week, we learned of their receiving five more babies.  Now they have 30, dumped and abandoned babies.  Their new facility is almost complete.  One of our teams will do some painting there.  Their chapel has new furniture, supplied by Margaret Larsen and her Sunday School class from Phoenix, Arizona, .

              
          I sit on our front porch.  It is very cloudy. 
Mount Meru is completely covered with clouds.  Maybe we will have rain tonight.  I hear thunder in the distance.  I have gone to the car, secured a flyswatter and have annihilated nine African flies and a bee.  They have not sensed the presence of a hostile old white man with a yellow flyswatter and his intent to destroy as many flying pests as possible.

            
         It is hot, very hot.  We just had lunch at the Blue Heron.  Two young boys, five and six, said to their mother, “We miss Boston.  It snowed there last night.”  Over here on December 19, 2008, it is hard to imagine it is snowing anywhere.

Elton and Barbara


 

   Life is Different---December 15 2008

            I sit early in the morning in Njiro, Arusha, Tanzania.  I hear roosters communicating all around me.

          I hear the turtledoves somewhere off in the distance.  Birds, unseen birds by the hundreds, are filling the air with their sounds.  I am reading Isak Dinesen’s book Out of Africa. I love the way she expresses herself, and her descriptions of Africa and Africans are insightful and well-written.  I quote her, “The discovery of the dark races was to me a magnificent enlargement of all my world.”  She said what Barbara and I feel.

 

             I preached twice Sunday at Arusha Baptist and interacted with two congregations of Tanzanians.  I really meant it when I spoke at the 7:30 A.M. service, “My friends and family in the USA ask why Barbara and I want to live out the rest of our lives here.  I cannot make anybody on either side of the Atlantic, in the USA or here in Africa understand.”  I sat on that platform so emotionally full.  I smiled and enjoyed the people and I said to them, “You are why we are here.”

 

            I have saved a text message on my cell phone from a young man I taught.  As I was checking my phone for the text, my phone announced another message was being texted.  It read, “Hellow, Elton, how are you today we are doing fine, Fanuel.”  I had met Fanuel in 1989 in Moshi.  I have taught 15 of his people in Nyumba ya Mungu.  I praise God for that young man’s burden for his people and his preaching and teaching under circumstances most people I know would not do because of the difficulties of his life.

 

            But as I was about to copy the text sent weeks ago by Alfred William, I write now to share, “The shortest distance between a PROBLEM and its SOLUTION is the distance between your KNEES and the FLOOR.  The one who KNEELS to God can STAND up to anything and 2 God everything is possible.”

 

           That is daily encouragement to me from Alfred who happily calls himself our son.

 

            Again I attempt to describe the indescribable.

 

            Very early Saturday morning I met Frank Mganga and Kelvin Tango to travel to Magugu and Babati to see the needs and to plan places to stay and to eat for a USA team coming to Tanzania next June.

 

            That trip to Magugu and Babati put in my heart and mind a deeper love for the nationals and a re-commitment to the Christ to introduce and to reinforce His presence and will in that part of His world.

 

             On a smooth highway we made good time for a little over two hours.  The tarmac ended.  One hour and a half, the road was literally like driving on a washboard.  Because it was so bumpy, we drove off the main road onto a dusty, yet peppered with large water holes from previous rains, man-made “through the jungles and swamps” vehicle path.  Frank, riding with me said several times, “Now, you are a real mzungu, because you are a white man, who has become an expert jungle driver.”

 

            We arrived at Magugu about 10:30 A.M.   There was no safe place in Magugu to stay so we drove on to Babati.  We made arrangements at the Pop-In Lodge for sleeping 14 and eating breakfasts.  We drove to the White Rose and arranged for three dinners for 14.  We drove back to Magugu and that team will build an outdoor kitchen for Pastor Gesso and his church.  We will also teach and that will be organized for us, as well as three local lunches.  It is ideal country for Called to Serve ministry and help.  There were 72 children attending a Compassion International meeting under a tree.

 

            We had noticed going to Magugu, an area where round and oval large floor mats hung from trees.  They also made large covered baskets.  Frank wanted to buy one for his new wife-to-be, Edith.  They are to be married on Saturday, January 3, 2009.  All of us knew the presence of the white mzungu would cause the prices to triple.  I stayed by the car at the side of the road.  Frank bought his basket.  Kelvin came to me and asked, “Which mat hanging from the trees do you want?  They will sell it to me for 4,000.00 shillings (less than $4.00)  All I had were 10,000.00 shilling bills.  They had no change, so I came home with two large floor mats and two exquisitely detailed baskets for less than $10.00.

 

            We also stopped and bought rice, 20 pounds for Frank, 5 pounds for Kelvin, and 16 pounds in four bags for me to use as gifts, when I go to pray and to visit in homes.

         

            We arrived home to Arusha about 7:30 P.M.  It had been a good day.

 

            I had lost my front license plate.  We took care of replacing it today, Monday.  It will take  7–10 days.  All it did was reinforce what I already knew.  We went into at least three offices of the police stations, twice to copying shops, to three offices with long lines at the TRA (Tanzanian Revenue Authority) and to the bank.  Needless to say it was a full day.  Kelvin helped me and at about 2:00 P.M. after a full morning, we were almost finished, he asked, “Would you have to do all this in America?”  I said, “No.  I would have had to go to one lady at one desk and she would have taken care of me.”  Because a license plate was bumped off going to Magugu and Babati, I spent most of my day waiting as policemen and policewomen hand wrote methodically their reports.  It had to be reported to the police first.  Now I have in my car’s glove compartment an officially stamped piece of paper, should I be stopped by the police, in the next ten days for not having a front license plate.

 

            Please continue to pray and please continue to give financially.  It is a different way of life here, but it is so good.

 

                                                                        Elton and Barbara      


  To Please God---December 10 2008

 
            All I want to do is please God.  To make Him happy with whatever I think, with whatever I say, with whatever I do and I just don’t do it very often, and I don’t do it very well.  Yet in my heart, my mind, my imagination, I never see Him frown at my behavior.  People do.  People allow their own feelings to blind them and they cannot, or do not, see as God sees.

           
        We love Africa.  We love Tanzania.  We love Tanzanians.

        
Seeing a blue and white cell phone sign displayed above Saniwari Minute Mart, I stopped and entered a small store, much like one would enter in the USA.  The proprietor spoke good English.  Yesterday, Tuesday, was a holiday, December 9, Independence Day.  Most stores were closed.  All banks.  All schools.  All post offices and government buildings.  Most months have one or two holidays and literally the entire city shuts down.  Walking into that store niceties and greetings were exchanged.  Two women entered; one was the daughter and a new mother; one was the grandmother carrying an infant that less than a week old.  The mother shopped.  The grandmother showed off her newly born granddaughter.  Our favorite expression over here is “It’s finished,” meaning what I had gone into the store to purchase had been sold out.  I wanted to buy cell phone credit/time.  I was told to wait, because neighboring stores would have what I wanted.  So off went another of the store’s employees to find what I had come to buy.  I took the infant’s small hand, hardly bigger than my index finger, and the infant smiled.  I spoke to her mother and grandmother, “Mzuri sana.” (Very pretty.)  Both smiled and the store owner said, “She’s yours.  You can take her home.”  I immediately asked, “She’s yours?”  “No.” he said, “I have two at home.”  I replied, “You are giving me her baby?”  In Swahili he explained what was being said.  All laughed as my cell phone cards were brought to me by the owner of another nearby shop.

           

      We had had a very sad morning.  We had been nursing a very sick four-month-old German shepherd, Usa, , since last Thursday.  I had been to the veterinarian every day and Dr. Sam had been to our house.  I had helped Dr. Sam with bottles of glucose and pills and shots.  Barbara had cooked a maize porridge.  I had held Usa
and spoon fed her for days.  She refused to eat and was so nauseated for five days.  She died while Barbara held her and sang to her as I frantically went for the vet.  Usa, one of the joys of our lives, died yesterday morning at 8:05 A.M.  It was an extremely sad and hard day for us.

           
       I had gone to Arusha Baptist at 11:00 A.M., where I will preach twice this coming Sunday.  The pastor, Arnold Manase, had just returned from Israel, and he and I planned a conference for 50 pastors, to be led February 5-7, 2009.  Also a USA team will go there on Tuesday, June 23, 2009.

 

            Then I met with Kelvin Tanga and Frank Mganga and we will go to Magugu and Babati on Saturday to plan for another team, coming this summer.

          
Yesterday, truly, was a unique day of faith.  Barbara and I are grieving, yet prior commitments were kept.  Life goes on, even when life ends.

           
           We just want to please Him more, when in reality, we do not have the spiritual energy to move.  Continue to pray.  Continue to give.  We feel that also pleases God.  I don’t ever want to let Him down.

                                                           

            God is always there.  Elton

 


  December 5, 2008---Becoming Known in the Neighborhood

      A sick dog carried in my arms on a dah-lah dah-lah became a memorable experience. It had its frightening moments, but it was a cohesive experience as well.  Usa, our four-month-old German Shepherd, lethargically lay under our table on the back porch.  Usually romping and playing to begin her day and literally jumping for joy when we, her humans, appear, Usa showed no interest in anything.  She would not eat, a favorite pastime for this young pup.  She was polite enough just raising her head to greet us.  Even her tail was lazy as it wagged a couple of times.  Her demeanor, her eyes, her lack of energy frightened us.

           
          To complicate matters, we had been rear-ended in our vehicle and I had arisen early to return our vehicle to the garage.  With a white primer on the back door, a missing spare tire, covered usually with a Called to Serve tire cover, now removed for repair, the owner of the garage, Alis, had let his nephew return the car the night before if I would return it before his garage opened the next morning, Friday morning.  Now our dog appeared to be dying.  Very quickly, I called the garage, because my car was due there to be fixed, so it would involve a fast trip to the garage, a return trip to bring me home, a call to the vet, Dr. Sam, who takes good care of all our animals, a bundling of USA, now about 35 pounds in a towel.  Thank God for the rain, because we needed it so badly, but it made the roads to the main road almost impassible with slick mud. 

            
          Taking my dog in my arms and walking to the main road, trying to find

a place to step, stepping cautiously through water and mud, half-way to the highway, the mud sucked off one of my shoes.  So, there I stood in indescribable muck with a shoe stuck in the mud, holding a sick dog in a towel and Francis, our worker, comes to my rescue.  He retrieves my shoe, ties the shoelace tighter, and off we slowly slip toward the main road. 

            We hailed a dah-lah dah-lah, a van that fills rapidly with Tanzanians on their way downtown.  AI realized we had created a stir.  Francis had gotten in the van first, and I was able to put Usa in his arms.  I then got on board, and was seated in the rear.  Chatter and laughter caused me to wonder what was being said.  Francis was speaking Swahili very quickly and in English, he assured me all was well, that the passengers were sorry for my dog and glad to help. I told Francis to tell them USA was my baby and he said they understood, “because Muzungu (white people) loved their dogs.”

            A ten minute ride to the vet, three shots, five pills to be taken, a bottle of glucose I was to put in her drinking water, a $5.00 charge for all of that, a return trip home on another dah-lah dah-lah, another hazardous walk through mud, Usa began to respond positively to the medicines.

            
            And I wonder weekly what I am going to write about.  Something new happens everyday.

            
            Stranded on the compound with no vehicle, I worked on two leadership conferences, completed the English conference for March, outlined the June mission group/trip, checked on Usa
as Barbara decorated for Christmas, washed laundry, and worked in the main house.

           
            The joy of these people blesses us daily.  It was scary for us because we love our animals, but as we walked, as we greeted and were greeted, as we interacted with our neighbors, it became a community event.

           
             By the way, those of you, my friends around the world, I am trying to grow a beard.  It is as white as what little bit of hair I have.  Imagine.  A white- bearded, bald man carrying a black German shepherd in a green towel down 500 yards of inches deep mud with water, heavy water flowing in streams wherever it wanted to flow and a van full of nationals and they are all speaking in Swahili.  I will never forget it.  It is an indelible memory.  Thank you for letting me share it.  Thank you for all you do, your gifts and your prayers that keep us here.  We thank God for you. 


 

November 24, 2008--"Always Remember" "Always remember what you have been taught and don’t let go of it.  Keep all that you have learned.  It is the most important thing in life.”  Proverbs 4:13

 
That was in English and Swahili on the wall at
Ushindi Baptist Church, where I preached November 23, 2008.  The sermon, entitled “Thank God for All His Blessings” was suggested by the pastor, Alfayo.  At the close of the worship time, a thanksgiving offering was taken.  All gifts would go toward the purchase of glass for the church windows.  A goat was brought forward and given.  She was to be sold and her purchase price would help buy window glass.


As visiting speaker, I was taken (actually everyone piled into our car) to the pastor’s home for Sunday dinner.  Our car will carry seven comfortably.  We had fourteen people in the car.  It was reminiscent of “packing a Volkswagen bug,” done years ago.  Needless
to say, it was about five kilometers of close fellowship. 

 Another interesting thing about Ushindi, there were 30 adults present and 111 children.  It is customary for the church to form a circle in front of the church when all is over.  Each adult person goes out first, shakes all hands in the circle and takes his/her place at the end of the circle.  Adults are followed by the children.  All the adults bless the children by laying the right hand on each child’s head.  There were 111 heads that were touched and blessed by 30 of us adults. 


 
Boy, am I learning?  And I was reminded, “Always remember what you have been taught.”


Thank you for your continued prayer support and your financial support, given toward Called to Serve’s ministry.

Thus far, over 500 names, genders and ages have been collected for the Kid 2 Kid International Sleepover.

A Communion Service is scheduled for Christmas Day at Olevolos Orphanage/Church.

The Jesus Film will be shown at Longido (Kimokoa) to end
2008 and to begin 2009.

A 16 lecture English course has been completed and will be taught at Kariat in March.  A Bible course will be taught to the women and thirty Swahili Bibles will be distributed, also in March.  We thank the unknown donor for the 30 Swahili Bibles.

Prayer concerns:


            If you wish to sponsor, Called to Serve will introduce you to a student at
Mount Meru University for you to help him to buy food for his wife and daughter, Glory.  He works from 5:00 P.M. until 7:00 P.M. daily for his tuition and school fees.


            A pastoral student with a family of 4 daughters has been asked to move and the family has moved into an unfinished house.


            A pastor’s house needs more concrete to finish the plastering of walls.  He has over 450 children in his ministry, and most of them are orphans.


           
If anybody wants to become involved personally with any of these students, just express interest and Called to Serve will introduce you and then you and the individuals will become friends, across the ocean.  The needs are legitimate and they are each deserving people.


Prayer Need Only.


Abraham and Beatrice

P.O. Box 832

Arusha, Tanzania

( or you mail email us, and we will take your message to them.)

They are experiencing major verbal abuse, from the locality, including their church, the oldest Baptist church in Ngaramtoni.  They could use a kind word of support.  They are superior church leaders in need of prayer and encouragement. 

Remember the expression made popular in the USA “A mind is an awful thing to waste.”  Africa can be changed if good minds are developed and not wasted.

I praise God for all you do to help develop good minds.



November  7, 2008- "RAIN!!!"

Praise the Lord!!!!! God is Good!!! Mungu ni mwema!!!!! We thank you each for all you have done. We ask you to keep the faith…..God is answering prayers for CTS and for each of us.

Now God will bless us with His direction. Why am I so sure? Well, of course, because I believe His Word and claim His promises………and because it is raining here! Really raining hard …..it started last night and it is still raining and raining and raining! Oh, how these people and we have been praying for rain …..during May, and June and July and August and September and October……no rain, no answers to the prayers- we thought ………and now---------RAIN.

Sweet, clean water washing over everything. The other day – Tuesday – the sky became a weird yellow color and the yellow clouds were thick as they blew toward us…..”it is not rain” – Francis told us – “it is the wind, it is dust”. And just like a scene from The Mummy or Indiana Jones – that yellow blew harder and harder, closer and closer ……Elton and Francis hurried to take down flags and gather up chairs and anything could go air-bourne…….and Francis was busy saying that wind like that could take off roofs from their houses. The yellow swooshed over us – blinding dust swirling everywhere and so thick that we could not see but a few feet ahead. And then – nothing. No rain. No more yellow clouds. Just nice, cool air. Yet everything was still a funny grey-kind-of-color. It stayed that grey color until last night and it started to rain around 11:00PM and now, at 8:49 AM it is still raining nice and steady.

We are grateful and we know that the people here are grateful, too.
They have not been able to grow crops or have reliable electricity or any water supply. Now it is coming down. We have been praying for it…..and now, in God’s own time, it comes. That’s how God works. Even for CTS – the rain will come. We must stay faithful. We must continue to believe. We may even have to stand in the dust awhile – but it will come. ……..And even right this minute, as I am writing this to you, I can hear women outside, standing in the rain – singing!!!!! SINGING!!!!

They are thanking God for His wonderful, life-giving gift. As I have stood in the dust storm ….so now I must go……..to stand in the rain and offer my thanks for all of His provision.


November 3, 2008- "God Bless the USA" Tomorrow you will vote. We pray that every one of you that is reading this now – will vote. We certainly would not say who you should cast that vote for – but vote, please – it is more important than ever. Listen to what God puts in your heart and vote.

Here – we will not be by the television watching to see what the results will be – first, we have no TV! Second, we would not have the connection that would allow us to do that, anyway. Soooooo…….we are going to a place here called The Greek Club at 5:00AM. There we will watch CNN and have a special breakfast. At 7:00AM we will then go to the Arusha International Conference Center. (This is the place built by the UN for the Tribunal for criminals in the genocide in Rwanda.) We will have to show our American passports to get in. There we will be with other Americans to watch the results – we hope there will be results. We look forward to being with other Americans. We are in prayer about who will win this election. We are excited for the Tanzanians to see that Americans do not go to war when they elect a president – even if we do not like the choice.

We have been in 40-days of prayer for the nation – America! Called To Serve sent us prayer booklets that we have distributed all over and used for the last 39 days. We have answered questions that are asked and asked – not so much about the candidates, but rather, how the system works. This country we are living in now is a socialist country. The people here have a lot of curiosity about how a democracy works. We are happy to tell them when they ask. Even in this political event – the love of Jesus can teach.

People on both sides have worked really hard for a really long time. Now it is almost over – or, rather, just beginning. Pray for our Nation. Pray for these men and women. Pray for yourself and your place in America – what can you do……what are you doing to make it a stronger, safer, solid place in which to live and share your faith?

We will be up early, early on Wednesday morning –on your Tuesday night. Together we will make a new start for a better world. God bless America!


October 15, 2008- "Observations."

 

Lest we forget . 


We must remember that Christ came to make men good rather than to make men feel good.


Sunday, we sat at the front of Ngaramtoni Kanisa Kibatisti to eat lunch with Pastor Abraham, his assistant Happy, his wife Beatrice and two of their six children, Deborah (pronounced Dee-boar-rah) and Helen.  There is no describing the articulate wonder of such a couple.  The altar table became our dinner table.  It was 1:00 P.M.  Over the pulpit was a gold sign with red letters.  It read, “Merry Christmas.”  Noticing it, we used it as a conversation starter.  “You still have your Merry Christmas sign up.  It is only October, so you are getting ready for Christmas early.”  As nonchalantly as it could be expressed, Beatrice, the pastor’s wife, said, “Because of what Jesus did for us, we celebrate Christmas every Sunday.”  Her husband, Abraham, a wise young man,
chimed in immediately, “Every day is Christmas Day.  We celebrate the birth of Jesus all year.”


I had just finished preaching for the morning service, but I needed to hear and see that genuine love for Jesus Christ.  That pastor and his family truly witnessed to us as we ate together.


We have been here twenty-two months.


Numbers of our family and friends in the USA
said that we would not make it.  Only His grace has made it possible.  I love these people.  We love these people   There is a genuineness about them.  There is an honesty.  Even when the deceitful ones are told by us what we sense is happening, they smile, and admit with admiration for us that we discerned a reality they thought they were concealing.  It ends with a smile and a friendship.  In many parts of the world, people become angry enemies when their motives are exposed.  Not here.


Our Swahili has many months yet to develop.  Each time we speak we attempt the meager Swahili we have learned.  One curiosity of mine is that I observe hundreds of people standing or sitting on street corners, in churches, in the marketplace, and it intrigues me what they are saying and what they are thinking and what the essence of their conversation is.  One day, I will know, because I will hear and understand.

Reading in Proverbs, Proverbs 20:27, I read, “The Lord looks deep inside people and searches through their thoughts.”

 

That’s scary.


But not to the African.  There is an innocence.  I know bad people exist everywhere in the world, but here there is a respect – a respect for anything they regard holy.  They have a respect for the cross.  If they see the cross in Called to Serve on the side of the car, on the tire cover on the spare tire, on the front gate, it affects people’s opinion of us, and they respect us for who we are.  It is eerie how people in general revere a sign of holiness. 

We are hanging the Christian flag and a Called to Serve flag over the front porch of our home.  We have visited the District Commissioner and he and the Ward Chairman have given us permission to hang the flags.  A Muslim family is making the flags.


Yesterday, I received a texted phone message. It was an answer of a young business man in Tanga after I attempted to encourage him long distance.  “Elton.  God has blessed me with you in my life.  I can only ask Him to bless you.  One day I will be with you in heaven.”  Such an expression of faith touched me in a special way. 


We have mentioned the students from Denmark.  There are thirteen of them with two adult leaders.  Since arriving last Wednesday, the 15 of them have almost completed  digging the foundation of a house, where the school headmistress will live.  There are over 700 students in that primary school and over 500 in the secondary school.  Barbara and I toured the schools because we are now a part of their community. 

We are corresponding with a young lady in North Carolina who wants to come and stay with us.


A couple who plans to come and to start their international family is awaiting news they have been given a work permit as volunteers with Called to Serve,  and they will come to live with us.  The procedure has its own time schedule, but we are hoping to have Bihoti and her new parents living with us until the adoption is complete. 
Do you ever ask, “I wonder why God is allowing these things to happen to me at this time?”


We left the Called to Serve compound to drive to downtown Arusha.  I had spent all morning at the Arusha Urban Water Supply and Sewage Authority (AUWSSA) going from office to office with a very large water bill, only to agree to pick up a technician tomorrow morning, early, because with this kind of bill, there must be a water leakage underground.  The rest of the morning was spent in a bank line to deposit money into a savings (like Social Security) account for our man, Francis Mollel.  I was able to write to Gleaning for the World and to offer ourselves, Called to Serve and Gleaning for the World a chance to work together.   I rewrote four sermons for future use here.  A phone list and suggestions from Roderick Mashayo for Youth Programs and a “snail mail” list of addresses were completed as I waited. 

As we maneuvered onto very rough roads, we stopped to the hand wave of a young woman for a ride.  She closed the backdoor and her greeting, “Are you Christians?  I am.  I was Muslim.  My parents live in Dodoma.  I want you to pray for them and my young brother.  And my sister.  And my friend.  She has become a Jehovah’s Witness, and they have offered her a house.  But they are all wrong.  Do you believe in fasting?  Do you have a prayer support network?  I want to be put on it, because I don’t want to get tired or discouraged.  My heart grieves for the many Muslims in our area, but I am here going to a