Honored Guest

So, we arrived in Kiri and we were pretty noticeable upon arriving.  I mean, the fact that we showed up in the land cruiser with 5 more people than normal, 3 of which were whites, pretty much settled that.  Considering they were used to Thomas and I casually pulling up on the motorbike it made sense that all eyes would be on us. 

Prior to going out to Kiri I had in mind that I would wash Abuba Poresi and Yaba’s feet.  I hadn’t the slightest idea how it would all come about or what it would look like, but just knew God had something there for me to do being it was my last time and I would be saying my goodbyes.  While we were driving out there I then began to wonder if washing their feet would be feasible, although I had no idea what not washing their feel would entail. 

We got out of the vehicle and I walked around and greeted a few people, introducing them to the rest.  Then, I led everyone towards Abuba’s home, hoping to find her there.  As I did each week, I walked up to her tukols and began yelling out, “Abuuuuuba. It’s Jeska.”  My sweet friend came out and I heard the heartwarming sound of, “Ahh, Jess-ee-ca!”  Words can’t express to you they joy I was privileged to experience each Friday as Abuba Poresi greeted me with more sincerity than most people ever know. 

Abuba grabbed her Bible and we all headed back out to the open market area.  I asked Abuba if she knew where Yaba was and after asking a couple of other people I was told he was sleeping up against the tree just nearby.   So, I walked over and saw him there-sprawled out, his head resting on the tree root, out to the world.  I stood there for a split second just looking at Yaba, God’s beautiful creation. Oh, how privileged I was to have him in my life.  That lasted a split second before one of the ladies yelled out, “YABA!!”  There’s nothing like being woken up by your name being screamed out! Haha He opened his eyes, staring straight at me as I was standing over him, and a smirk came across his face as he said, “Mama.” Sometimes I found myself literally wanting to grab Yaba and cradle him in my arms, speaking in a way that he would understand, expressing the depth and width and height of the love Christ has for him.  This was one of those moments. We did our usual sing song of him asking for money, me responding, him asking again, me smiling at him knowing that I could tell him anything and know that Jesus had allowed a bond to form that regardless, he knew I loved him.  

I turned around to see that a crowd had started to gather.  It wasn’t long either before the all too familiar man who I blogged about a little while back made an appearance.  Remember the man that was yelling at me telling me I was a thief and a liar? The one that Thomas stepped in and made the decision that I was no longer going to interact with? Yep. He was back with the same story.  I must admit, it was interesting to watch the rest of the gangs’ reaction to this man.  To me, it had become “normal”.  To others, somewhat concerning.  The men in the market place stepped in like last time and made sure this man kept his distance and wasn’t of any harm to anyone.   

Yaba began asking me for Mugatti like he always does, and every other week I would have simply walked with him over to the 2 ladies who sell it, but I realized that I literally had no Ugandan shillings.  I felt awful.  How could I not remember that I would need a mere 300 shillings to buy Yaba his mugatti for the last time?? Just then, Ami asked me if he would be happy with cookies.  Would he be happy with cookies?? Ha. Happy is a grave understatement.  She had a small package of cookies in her camera bag.  She almost didn’t bring them.  They were her last ones.  Thank you, sweet Jesus. Yaba’s face lit up simply at the sound of the crinkling wrapper. J So, with his cookies in one hand and what was left of my bottle of water in the other, Yaba was perfectly content.

I began to think that I was going to say my goodbyes’ to Yaba and Abuba, and off we’d go.  For some reason I found myself a little flustered.  I was stuffing down all of the emotions of leaving along with a bit of disappointment that I just didn’t have a peace about washing their feet.  So, I went to Abuba and explained that we would be leaving shortly and she asked that I speak to everyone first, simply letting them know I was going back home and encouraging them to know I will be praying for them. 

That’s when I looked up.

Under the tree were about 30 people neatly seated, waiting.  Then, I looked to my left and Abuba was walking over with 5 blue, plastic chairs.  I knew we’d be there for a while longer. J Abuba set up the chairs in a row facing the people under the tree. 

That’s when it hit me that everyone had been watching us interact with Yaba.  They saw it all.  Some were laughing.  Others were simply watching with emotionless faces. I was quickly reminded what “this” was all about.  “This” is what the Lord had for today.  “This” was about to be a very frank teaching to those gathered under the tree.  In that moment I realized what it was all about-it was so clear.

I gathered those with me and we made our way over to the plastic chairs, mentioning that we would all introduce ourselves.  I grabbed Yaba and asked him to sit right next to me on my left. Y’all, what I saw next is one of those moments that I will never forget and one that brought me more joy than I can express.  Yaba walked over to the chair, stood there and looked up at all of the people facing us, watching.  He had a cookie in his left hand and a water bottle in his right.  He looked over at me.  He sat down in the green plastic chair with his chest in the air and the biggest smirk on his face.  He was an honored guest and he knew it.  He was so confident.  It oozed off of him.  It was hilarious.  He sat there and looked around as if to say, “That’s right, look at me, I’m special, prized, and I love it!” I do believe it was more than simply being prized by me, folks. I really do.  Everything in my spirit felt like he “got it.” Abuba then came over and she sat on my right.  The rest of the team sat in the other chairs.

They didn’t get it, but it was me. Don’t you see? I was the guest.  I was the one who felt completely honored to be sitting between those two beautiful people.  I was the one so overjoyed at the privilege.   

We went one by one introducing ourselves and then the Lord gave me the words.  I thanked everyone for welcoming me into their lives.  I expressed what the Lord had sent me to do and encouraged them to walk in what they learned. Then, I turned to my precious friend, Yaba, who was still sitting beside me eating his cookie and drinking his water with such pride. 

I asked the crowd who had noticed that I had befriended Yaba.  Practically everyone raised their hand.  I then asked them who knew why I had befriended Yaba.  It was silent.  So, I asked them to share their guesses as to why I would want to become friends with Yaba.  A young man blurted out that I became friends with Yaba because maybe I wanted to take him home with me to America.  Everyone immediately started laughing.  I smiled and said, “Well thank you for guessing, but no, that’s most definitely not it!”  A woman raised her hand and said that I became friends with Yaba so I could earn status in Heaven.  Most nodded their head as to agree that was a better reason than the first.  With a heavy heart I thanked her also for guessing, but that I wasn’t Yaba’s friend to receive anything back in return, and most definitely not a better status in Heaven.  Then, an older woman raised her hand and said quietly, “You are friends with Yaba because that’s what you are supposed to do for God.”

She got it.

I stated that yes that is exactly right.  I began explaining to the group the character of Christ.  I shared with them what Christ calls us to be and to do as born again believers.  I was so very frank with them that Jesus doesn’t call us to just love those that are just like us, or are convenient, or are easy to love even, but everyone, including those like Yaba. I shared with the group their actions towards Yaba and even towards me because of befriending him. Things such as coming up to me and asking me why he was sitting by me on the bench (rather than on the dirt as usual), running him off so he didn’t bother us, talking about him as if he weren’t a person, etc.  I expressed that God sent me to love Yaba to be an example of His love and what it looks like lived out.  Through my tears I looked to Yaba as he sat there listening, and drew attention to the fact that he was my honored guest, always.  We, as children of God, are seated with Him in the heavenly realms!  We are precious and loved, and are to treat others as such! I challenged them to not miss out on the beauty of Christ by mistaking it for nothing. 

When all was said and done, I shared the Gospel. 

Abuba then took it upon herself to stand up and share.  If it was even possible, I feel even more in love with that beautiful old woman! She was on fire and boy did she have something to say to everyone! She reiterated what I talked about and then told them that they needed Jesus! She paced back and forth, back and forth, every now and then looking back at me with a smile on her face.  It was simply beautiful.

She closed us in prayer, and I knew God had accomplished what He desired through me in Kiri. My heart was at peace.

Then, Yaba points forward and says, “My Dad.” I looked and asked him what he said because I wasn’t sure why he was saying “My Dad.”  So, he repeated again and pointed.  The man he was pointing at started walking towards us.  Are you ready for this?!! The man sitting front and center of the group in front of us was Yaba’s father!!!  I had no idea! I had just shared my heart about Yaba, what Christ accomplished, etc., etc. and his dad was right there listening! I just love Jesus for how He worked that out, because if I had known maybe I wouldn’t have been as bold. You see, from what I had been told, Yaba’s parents are the landlords of the village.  This simply means they are over it and decisions made regarding to the village.  I was also told that they are Muslim. Him being there was no accident.

So, this really tall beautiful African man walks up and introduces himself to me as Yaba’s father.  Yaba then tells his dad to sit down next to him and then tells me he wants a picture of them together.  I couldn’t help but laugh as Yaba was directing everyone around.  Then, as they were getting ready to have their picture taken by Ami, I almost lost it.  Yaba had some cookie/drool on his face (the norm) and his dad leaned over and took his shirt and wiped Yaba’s face so gently so he would be “ready” for the picture.  Gentleness. Compassion.  Love.  My heart was so full. 

I don’t have any idea why I had never met Yaba’s dad before now.  I don’t know where he was.  I don’t know the exact dynamic of their family.  But, I do know that God had his dad front and center this day for a reason.  I do know that Yaba wanted a picture with his dad and was so very proud to have it taken with him.     

The time came to actually say goodbye.  My heart was so full but at the same time felt like it was being ripped apart.  I hugged Abuba and told her just how much I love and adore her and encouraged her to stay strong and continue seeking Christ, relying on His strength and power.  Seeing this sweet woman sad liked to kill me. Then, it was Yaba’s turn.  I went to him and told him how much I love him and as usual he wanted to shake my hand.  But, this time, he didn’t want to let go.  Everything about it was just so sweet.  I flashed back to the very first time I met Yaba and how he grabbed my hand and held it so tight it almost hurt, not letting go as he asked me for money…and here I was today saying my goodbyes as he had the same grip on me, not wanting to let go because he knew I was leaving for good.   

I got my hand out of his and made myself turn away and walk to the vehicle.  I could help but praise the Lord as we drove off, knowing He accomplished far more than I could ever know, humbled that He allowed me to be a part of His wondrous plan.

Insurmountable & Undeniable

It was decided that I would head out with half of the team (Rebecca, Andrew, and Ami) to a village called Lukalili to do a church plant on Friday the 17^th.  Of course, I was excited to get out there and see all the Lord had in store for this first day out in Lukalili.  Plus, how cool of a name is Lukalili?! Go ahead, I know you want to try and say it out loud….LUKE-UH-LEE-LEE.  The other half of the team headed out to a different village called Longira to plant a church.

We arrived and were welcomed by dancing and singing.  It never gets old.  Everyone introduced themselves and off we went.  Rebecca shared the Gospel to everyone there while Andrew and Ami walked around, each with an Evangecube so everyone could see.  I went around taking pictures at this point.  Rebecca came to the end of the story and asked if there was anyone who wanted to surrender to Jesus. 

Silence. 

Again, she reworded and asked.

 Silence.   

It would be so easy to be discouraged at this point…if you fell into the trap of thinking that silence meant a lack of success, failure.  Not so.  Not even close, actually.  If there’s something I had learned in my time there, it was that those listening almost always have questions, but because of one reason or another (most specific to their culture) they are hesitant to speak up.  They need time.  They need a little pushing and prodding.  They need things to be asked in a way that they understand.  They need loving patience.

So, I stepped in and began to ask if there were any questions and pushed a prodded a bit in a way that prior to coming I can promise you I would not have felt comfortable doing.  A few began speaking up. Then, I noticed a man who walked up and joined the group, sitting in a chair on the end of the group of people.  After there were a few who were willing to speak up and ask questions, I asked if there was anyone who simply realized their need of Jesus. 

His hand rose.

The man I saw walk up and sit on the outskirts of the group raised his hand.  He began to explain to us that he had just walked there directly from the bar and from drinking.  He explained that he was drunk and just knew he was supposed to come in the direction of where we were.  He found us there and expressed that he and his family needed Jesus. 

Immediately, just as in the groups I was a part of, I knew God had sent this young man not only for his sake, but for the sake of everyone else who was sitting there listening and watching.  I felt so powerfully led by the Spirit to go to over to the man personally and let him know that he was and is loved.  I knelt down in front of him, looking into his eyes that were so evidently filled with pain and brokenness and told him 3 of the most powerful words that I have found myself privileged to say over and over to so many. 

Jesus loves you. He loves you.

What a reminder that He indeed loves me, too.  I am beyond humbled each time.  I am never in a place in my life that I don’t need to be reminded of His insurmountable and undeniable love for me. It is constant.

I spoke to Simon for a few minutes and loud enough so everyone else could hear, too.  Remember, it wasn’t just for Simon that Jesus sent him there.  Simply, the Gospel was shared again, but this time in a more personal, intimate fashion.  Simon confessed that he needed Jesus.  He confessed that his family situation was bad, that there was a lot of fighting, and that he knew it was because Jesus wasn’t a part of him or his family. 

He wanted to pray to receive Jesus.  I looked up and Rebecca, Ami, and Andrew were walking over to come pray with Simon.  I asked Andrew if would mind being the one to lead Simon in prayer.  It was beautiful…..and everyone watched Jesus’ love conquer.

We finished up and split into two groups to go evangelizing hut to hut and inviting those we shared with to come to the afternoon discipleship time. Ami and Rebecca headed one direction with a couple translators and Andrew and I headed the other direction with Kenyi, our translator.

Since I felt completely comfortable, I wanted to purposely let Andrew take the lead to “get his feet wet”.  Let me tell you, it was just so encouraging to see someone else with the same passion I have, ministering to the people I literally adore, glorifying our sweet Jesus.  He got pretty much every major cultural barrier and excuse thrown at him in regards to religion—an elderly lady sharing that she had her name on a list at her specific denomination’s church which guaranteed (as she was told) she’d have someone to bury her which meant she was going to Heaven, a middle aged woman saying that she drank alcohol so she couldn’t be a follower of Christ, another woman saying that she wanted to wait to confess Christ, sometime in the future, and then a 15 year old boy named Isaac who had never heard of Jesus before.  It was so good for him to just be thrown in like that.  It was also fun to see him be stretched as these people genuinely shared (a huge blessing in and of itself) the truth of where they were at.  Oh, by the way, Isaac surrendered his life to Christ right there after simply hearing what Jesus did for him.  When I asked Him if He wanted to know Jesus, he responded with, “Yes.” as if to say, “How could I not knowing what I now know?”  ….innocence of children, I tell ya….

After visiting with them it was time to head back and we finished up our day in Lukalili with a time of discipleship.  Simply, this is a chance for everyone to get together for iron to sharpen iron.  It was a Q&A format.  So many great questions were asked. They don’t hold back and I love it.  It was yet again a really great introduction for Rebecca and Andrew, who will be living there for a year to hear a lot of the questions that are commonly asked and issues that are often having to be worked through.  This  can be anything from alcoholism to sanctification to polygamy to church discipline to spiritual attacks.

Before heading out to Lukalili I had tried to arrange things so I would be able to go to Kiri for my last group and to say my goodbye’s that afternoon.  The Lord is just so good.  It ended up that we finished in Lukalili at the exact time we would need to leave to head to Kiri.  Not only that, but our driver and everyone else were gracious enough to go along with me so we could make it happen.    

Be on the lookout for the next post.  You don’t want to miss out on what the Lord accomplished in Kiri with Yaba and Abuba Poresi….

He's Always Got More in Store

Before I knew it, I was lying under my mosquito net, about to fall asleep, and the reality that it would be my last night in “my” room hit me.  Sleep became the last thing of importance at that moment, replaced by a whirlwind of memories, prayers, and tears.   Could it be that all that was between me and the day that seemed so far off—Jenn and Ami’s arrival (along with the rest of the team)—was a sunrise? It was so surreal. I was overwhelmed with thanksgiving at all the Lord had done in and through me.  It was quite literally too much for words.  Only tears would do.

 I was excited and I was mourning.  I was excited for all that was to come and mourning all that was soon to be the past. There is just something so beautiful in that to me…something I fear so many miss out on.

So, I got up the morning of June 16^th and had to tell myself it was actually happening.  The little bit of comfort that had naturally formed and what little bit of a routine (it’s bound to happen no matter where you are) I had were about to be done with!  Wake up call, anyone? Along with that, I was about to have the opportunity that not very many get—sharing my love (Sudan and ALL that includes) with those I love. Blessings upon blessings.

How MAF (Missions Aviation Fellowship) works is you call their number about 9 a.m. to find out when the plane is arriving that day.  It is usually anywhere from 11-3.  I was hoping they’d get in on the front end of that window.  The Radler Foundation had a short term trip that week, this day being their last day.  So, it made sense that the plane flying in with my people would be the one the Radler team would fly out on.  I decided I’d go ahead and hang out with them, Norma, and Grant that morning, waiting to find out the details, knowing there was no way I could accidently get left behind and miss getting to the air strip! (I may have told Kaya more than 5 times that he better not forget meJ)

ETA: 10:45 a.m. That is exactly when I heard the familiar sound of the small plane flying over our heads.  Oh, how much simpler life would be if flying simply consisted of waiting until you heard the plane flying over you, jumping in the vehicle, and being at the air strip 4 minutes later.  I digress.  I quickly said my goodbye’s to the Radler team and jumped into the land cruiser with Grant and Stephanie (she was also expecting a family coming in to visit).  I can vividly remember jumping in, looking over at Grant, and telling him I was nervous.  Of course, he asked me why I was nervous in the friendly and caring way that simply defines Grant.  Know what I said?  “I think because I know everything is about to change.  It’s reality.” Oh, how much one sentence can hold.

The plane had landed and as we drove up I immediately saw my red headed friend standing on the airstrip. I mean, she didn’t exactly blend in. J I remember Steph saying she couldn’t tell which one’s were going to be Ami and Jenn and I quickly informed her she’d know…they’d be the ones running towards me.  Sure enough, it took 1.3 seconds for that to be the case.  I could barely get out of the vehicle before Jenn and I were hugging mess of tears.  Right after her, Ami.

I made my way around and hugged everyone’s necks…and…it was weird.  It was amazing…and weird.  I mean, having two worlds collide is just odd…surreal…like a dream.  Have I gotten my point across?  I found myself just staring at everybody and am pretty sure I kept saying out loud, “You’re here.” as if to keep reminding myself they were in fact there.

We ended up going up to the church compound since Andrew ended up on the flight that was coming in about 20 minutes later (the one the Radler team was flying out on) and I was able to show everyone around.  Do I need to tell you yet again that it was excitingly weird? We headed over to the Water Harvest Compound where everyone ended up meeting the Radler team right before the headed off and Ami and Jenn got to see Norma! We had a little Waxahachie Bible Church Reunion right there! I can promise you that never in Norma’s (or my) wildest dreams did she think that the 4 of us would be chit chatting at her home in South Sudan.  I love God for that!

Andrew got in and joined up with us and we all headed for the very first thing on the agenda.  Steve and I had kept it a secret, so I was super excited for everyone.  Insert: chimpanzees!!  Everyone was so excited and enjoyed themselves.  I mean, the chimps are just too precious. There are plenty of pictures and videos on my facebook if you care to see them!

So, since it was Thursday I had my group in Mondikalok to go to that afternoon.  It was going to be my very last one with them…emotions were on the forefront.  I had hoped that maybe there might be a chance that Jenn and Ami would get to see what it was I had actually been doing while there.  Right away that was the case as Steve gave the go ahead for Jenn, Ami, and Andrew to head out with me to Mondikalok.  I was so excited to share that with them.  Jenn got to ride out there on the motorbike with Scovia and we 3 headed out in the big van.  Come to find out Scovia was set to do an education seminar that day also, so when we arrived there were way more people there than usual. 

I wasn’t exactly sure what the Lord had in mind because I had planned on washing the group members’ feet while sharing the story of Jesus washing His disciple’s feet.  There are usually like 6-10 people that come to the group.  There were easily 20-25 people there.  After Scovia asked me what I wanted to do, I stood there with a wash basin in one hand and soap in another literally asking God (silently), “Okay, what’s in store this time, God? There are so many more people… am I really to wash every one’s feet??” Ami walked over to me in that same moment and says to me, “Jess, we can all help you wash feet…you don’t have to do it all…we can help.”

I can’t even type that without tears welling up. Do you see how loving of a God I serve? Not only that, but a God who knows all…and it’s all in His timing, in His way..and it’s FAR better than what I could ever conjure up in this head of mine.  He sent them to join me in that moment, in serving those people.  He sent that many people for a reason.  It wasn’t just a coincidence.  It never is.  What occurred next was stunningly beautiful.

No one had the slightest clue what was going on…but it didn’t take long.  I asked Andrew if he minded being the first one to start washing feet…beginning with a specific man first.  To no surprise, Andrew lovingly and willingly accepted.  He bent down on his knees at the feet of Wani, washbasin beside his feet and I gently asked Wani to please take off his shoes.  You could have heard a pin drop and all eyes were on Wani.

Let me explain why I purposely asked Andrew to wash Wani’s feet first.  All of it was intentional.  Wani is a man who was at the very first group meeting in Mondikalok and barely spoke 2 words.  He said just enough for me to be clear that he was not born again and not ashamed of that.  He came to almost all of the meetings, but was also the ring leader of the group of men who decided to inform me that what I was doing was a waste of their time. He always came with a bad attitude.  He would sit with his arms crossed, only talking really if it were to say something controversial or with the intention of instigating.  Yet, he kept coming.  I kept welcoming him, going above and beyond to be as friendly as I could to him.  He was watching and I knew it.

So, as soon as I saw Wani sitting on the end of the bench beside a number of other men, I just had this immediate confirmation in my Spirit that he was to be the first one.  Not only that, but Andrew was to be the one to start the washing-a man washing the feet of men.  I don’t think I have to say that there is Biblical significance to that (wait, I just said it).  Not just that, but a white man washing the feet of a hard hearted, Sudanese man.  Like I said, I couldn’t have dreamed it up.

He looked at me like I was crazy.  Perfect. All of the men sitting beside Wani began to laugh.  Even better.  So, Wani hesitantly slips off his sandals and Andrew begins washing his feet.  I began telling the story of Jesus washing His disciple’s feet.  Andrew continued on to Simon, who was also very open about not being born again.  God knew those two would sit by each other.  On and on and on.  Ami began washing the feet of the women and I continued to share as Jesus gave me the words-His Words.  I saw Jesus before me as Ami gently poured the water over their feet, washing away the dirt, and drying their feet with her skirt.  Jenn did the same.   After a number of people had their feet washed I could help but laugh at the beauty of what I saw.  No longer were they hesitant, but the women were forming a line in excited anticipation of having their feet washed.  More people came.  They got their feet washed. I then put my knees to the dirt and did my last physical act of Love for those in Mondikalok as I washed the last few dirty feet, drying them also with my skirt, speaking blessings over them.

The main group members expressed their gratitude to us and to me for the past 4 months, I walked over to both Wani and Simon, looked them in the eyes, and told them I was going home and anticipating the day I get the news they have finally surrendered their lives to Christ, I encouraged Moses (the very first and youngest person to actually lead a group) to continue strong in His walk, we said our goodbyes and we began walking back to the van.  Ami, Jenn, and Andrew were walking in front of me and then I hear my name being called out. 

I turn around and see Moses running towards me.  I didn’t know if I could handle it, about to fully let lose all of the emotions inside of me.  He simply wanted to know how he would ever be in touch with me.  Sweet Moses, I think he got more than he bargained for. Haha I told him how, and continued to the bus, overwhelmed yet again with the mixture of joy while also feeling like a piece of my heart was ripped out to be left behind.

I turned the corner to see Ami, Jenn, and Andrew talking with a man that I could instantly tell was drunk.  I couldn’t help but start laughing, y’all.  I thought, “Welcome to Sudan.  Welcome to what my life has been the past 4 months!!—excitingly unpredictable!” I joined their little group discussion to find out that they were all trying to figure out what in the world he was talking about.  Yes, I’m laughing as I type this.  So, I ask him his name and he says, “My name is Alleluia Amen!” My response? “You’re name is Alleluia Amen?!” “Yep.” I mean, the only appropriate response to that is, “Well, praise the Lord!!” haha. I think you may have had to be there for that to be as funny as it is to us.  Come to find out that’s what he had been trying to tell them but none of them could tell that’s what he was saying.  Long story short, we ended up talking to him for a while and he became fully aware of the fact that He needed Jesus to save him from his sins.  He surrendered his life to Christ right there in the middle of the road.  I was so thankful Jesus sent him to us, especially for Ami, Jenn, and Andrew to see the beauty and simplicity of the Gospel in action. It never gets old…ever. Oh, and right before we are leaving I decided to ask him again what his name is.  Peter. We went through this whole long drawn out ordeal of trying to figure out his name and he just decides to finally tell us, “My name is Peter.” Of course it is! J

Now, God accomplished all He intended to in Mondikalok for the day and we headed back to Kaya’s compound to share of His goodness with the rest of the team.

I had already decided that I was going to move out of my room so Rebecca could get moved in her first night there.  I was personally so blessed to have the chance to get settled into my “own space” while also having the comfort of the short term team there with me, so my conflicting desires of wanting to stay in there as long as I could only to try and be in denial that I was leaving, were easily overcome when it came down to it. 

Do I have to tell you it was hard? Didn’t think so.  I procrastinated until I couldn’t anymore and packed up my room, moving everything into the large room with Jenn, Ami, and Sarah.   Moving has always been such a hard thing for me.  I am so very sentimental when it comes to stuff like that, but I praise God I am because He is then able to swoop in and remind me that there will soon be a day where I will finally be Home for good. There will be nothing bitter about it.  Oh, how I long for that day! I took my time, thanked God for all He allowed to be accomplished in that blessing of a room, and gave Rebecca the key.  Well, of course, not before having my little cry session in which David Kaya comes in and successfully tells me that it was not time to cry yet. I just love him and his uncomfortable with crying self.   J

I found myself lying under a mosquito net that night that was literally 3 inches from my face, in a much different room full of 5 beds, two of which had 2 of my best friends sleeping in them, all of my things spread out everywhere, fully aware that my transition back home had already began…

What a week can hold...

Where has the time gone? As usual, I intended to write this post a lot sooner, but let me tell you, jet lag had other intentions.  As I fully expected, I didn’t have the time to sit down and write out what my last week in Kajo Keji looked like while there with the team and then once I got home I was literally useless.  I was simply exhausted and have had no motivation to do much of anything.  But, I’ve been told it typically takes a day per each hour of time difference to recover.  Sudan is 8 hours difference from Dallas, and I’m actually feeling pretty good today, so I’m more or less on schedule!  More about my transition later.  First, I want to fill you in on the last week or so of my time in South Sudan. 

I will likely do a number of posts simply because I have so much to share. I’ll start with the day the team arrived soon....stay tuned!  

One Stone at a Time

“What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe—as the Lord has assigned to each his task.  I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow.  So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.  The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor. For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, God’s building.  By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder, and someone else is building on it.  But each one should be careful how he builds.”  1 Corinthians 3:5-10

I took this picture the second or third week I was here.  It’s a picture of the foundation of the building that will soon be finished showers and toilets that is right beside my room.  I found myself completely intrigued by the process starting from the ground up.  I walked out one evening to see what progress had been made that day and saw this and for some reason found it to be just beautiful. 

Sitting here, over 3 months later, I know why.  He wanted to make a very clear point to me, and has brought me back to this picture, and more importantly, the message of this picture time and time again during these past 4 months.

  

 I am a big ‘ol boulder.

In a country that has the history such as South Sudan, there is much, much work to do…on so many levels.  I’ve found myself day in and day out going about the work God prepared the way for so long ago.  Many days I struggled with the tediousness of it.  Others, I was absolutely blown away by the unexpectedness of it all.  All of the days, I was being used as a boulder. 

One stone at a time His Kingdom is being revealed.  One stone at a time His Kingdom is growing.  One stone at a time lies of Satan are being extinguished.  One stone at a time the Holy Spirit is being welcomed.

To Him be all the glory, forever.

Can you believe it? Jenn, Ami, and the rest of the team are in route as I type this.  It’s so surreal.  I’ve got butterflies.  This time tomorrow, Lord willing, I will have welcomed them to my home here.  I am just so overwhelmed with just how sweet Jesus is to me.  He didn’t have to allow me the privilege of coming here.  He for SURE didn’t have to allow me the privilege and enormous blessing of having two of my closest friends joining me for the last week.  I would consider Him no less good if Jenn and Ami weren’t coming, but it just goes to prove that He knows how to woo me. He loves me so!

It’s bitter sweet, for sure.  Those are just words though.  They can’t really explain what’s going on in this heart of mine. I have so many loves in so many places, with one physical body.  This is life here, and makes me that much more excited to reach my real Home.  Nothing will be bitter. Only the sweet. 

Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Please pray for this next week.  I will be finishing up with my groups.  It will be so sweet and so hard.  I plan to wash their feet as one last way of serving them and being Jesus to them.  There a whole blog post on why I am choosing to do so; maybe the next one. I just know God has much in store.  I can’t wait to see all the Lord accomplishes in and through everyone.  Late night chats, star gazing, PJ praying time, and I’m sure many tears are in the VERY near future!! J Oh, and I’m not sure if I’ll get one more update in before heading home, so if not, I’ll see you on the other side!

LOVE!

Hearing with the Heart

We hopped on the bike, challenging the rain, and off we went…headed in the direction of Mondikalok as Thursdays here entail.  About half way there, the rain found us. So, as many others chose to do as well, we stopped and waited under a tree that was easily a thousand years old.  About 10 minutes went by and we decided to continue on our journey, trusting the rain was finished for the time being. 

I’m so grateful we didn’t turn back.

Upon arriving, we greeted all those we came across and made our way to the shop we always go to first.  We were quickly informed that no one from the group was around.  So, we visited.  Then, as God is always so faithful to do, He sent a woman who looked to be in her 60’s our way.  I knew upon seeing her that the interaction was going to be interesting.  To no surprise, she immediately walks straight up to me and tells me to give her money.  She grabs a package of biscuits, as if I had already told her I would.  Before I could even respond, Scovia tells her that if she has the money she’ll buy them for her.  She did, and the Abuba got her biscuits.  That wasn’t enough for her, though.  She them came to me and told me she wanted 10,000 shillings.  This is when the 2 men we were sitting there visiting with stepped up.  They began talking to her and Scovia began telling me what they were saying. 

I was pleasantly surprised to hear that they were explaining to her that she should be thankful for what was graciously given to her already.  Instead, she wasn’t satisfied and was asking for more.  They were telling her that by asking for more she was saying that what she was given wasn’t enough.  I was listening, knowing God could very well be setting the stage for me to step in at any moment and turn the focus on my sweet Jesus.

The time soon came. 

In the midst of this woman saying so many things that were out in left field and telling me like 5 different names when I asked her, shoving something in her mouth and spitting  (I found out  it was some fresh tobacco mixed with ashes…so gross), she began saying that Jesus followers are happy. It was go time.  So, I attempted to ask her who Jesus was to her.  She then began singing a popular hymn sang here.  She really was pretty funny and seemed so random.  I knew different.  I feel pretty comfortable in saying that it wasn’t just Kiden (what I was told her name was) I was speaking to. 

Confusion isn’t of God.

She wouldn’t respond to anything I said to her, but just kept asking for money and taking my arm and putting it next to hers, comparing our skin.  I just kept looking at her, specifically her eyes, and couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with the Truth that Jesus loves this woman.  He loves her fully.  I wanted nothing else but to love her the same. 

The men began telling her she needed to go.  She was now beginning to annoy them.  I sat there praying that she wouldn’t leave until Jesus was finished with what He wanted accomplished…regardless of what that looked like.  She didn’t leave. 

Scovia asked me what I wanted to do since none of the group members were there.  So, I told her we could just visit for a bit more and then head back to the office.  Right then another old woman walks under the awning of the store where we are all sitting. She was beautifully tall, wearing a bright African printed dress.  She was using her hands and Scovia leaned over and informed me that she was deaf.

Of course she was.  I smiled as I watched her talk to the men with the same noise for each word as she used her hands to convey what she was saying.  I can’t help but be amazed at the fact that we as humans always seem to find a way to communicate…and here, without the gift of sign language.  It’s signs alright, but ones that they have just had to figure out over time and adapt to.  So, it wasn’t but a minute or two before the woman who was deaf picked up on what was going on with Kiden. 

Then, a moment in which I could not hold back my laughter happened.  The deaf woman turns to Kiden (as she is continually putting her hand out and asking for money from me) and motions with her hands, “What is wrong with you? Do you not have ears to hear? She has told you already she doesn’t have money to give you!!!” It was perfectly understandable and beautifully done so quickly.  I found myself in awe.

The deaf was asking the one with hearing if she had ears to hear.

 Powerful. I was trying to drink it in. It was another one of those moments.  One of the moments where time seems to stand still and Jesus is so tangible and real. The truth of the situation was that Kiden had physical ears to hear alright, but the deaf woman pointed out that she simply wasn’t listening.  But, the deaf woman heard it loud and clear.

Scovia and I got up after that and decided to walk back to the motorbike.  I took 3 steps, Kiden took 3 steps.  She was my shadow.  She wasn’t leaving my side.  The deaf woman was close behind her.  Followers. The physically deaf and the spiritually deaf.  We stopped at another shop to greet one of the Mama’s and so there we had all of us standing there.  The deaf abuba decides to take her opportunity to now gently ask me for money for what she signaled to be for food.  Y’all, it became comical at this point.  This is when Kiden looks at her like she’s crazy for now asking me.  This whole time the deaf abuba would jump back any time Kiden would touch her.  She was very clear she didn’t want Kiden touching her.  It broke my heart.  It was clear that Kiden had a reputation in the village of being “crazy”.  So much so that her touching people caused a reaction. 

So, we’re standing there and Kiden leans into the deaf abuba and she shakes her finger at her telling her to stop touching her and then realized that Kiden has a package of biscuits and signs out for Kiden to share with her.  What does Kiden do? She graciously says okay.  So, I proceed to open the package for them and the split it in half.  The next thing I know I’m signing to convey something that I knew was something Jesus wanted to say to this deaf abuba.  It had to be of Jesus, because the message got across the first time loud and clear.  I told her, “You don’t want her to touch you…but you are okay with her sharing her food.  How is that okay?” She smiled and put her hand up and crossed her two fingers telling me that she and Kiden were now one and she was okay with her.  Right.  Regardless, I got my point across. Rather, Jesus got His point across.

Scovia and I continue on and as we’re walking by a number of men who are working on bikes and such they say something to Scovia.  She turns to me and tells me that they asked her if we could teach them something from the Word.  They wanted to learn about Jesus.  The next thing I know there are people gathering under the tree.  How can one turn away from people wanting to learn about Jesus.  I just couldn’t justify saying no.

Up walks a boy who closely resembles Yaba.  There was more clarity to this boy, but walked like him, talked like him, looked like him.  He wobbled his way over and sat under the tree.  The deaf woman sits next to us on the bench.  Kiden sits on the outskirt of the group of people as she was told to by the men.  Men, women, and children, about 20 in number, sat there, waiting to learn about Jesus. 

I sat there for a few seconds just looking around, looking at the faces before me, asking the Lord to show me what it is He wants to say to them.  Sometimes I just feel like I am transferred back in time.  Sometimes I think God clears everything out of my mind and shows me how He saw things, how He sees things.

Self-righteousness.  Sinners. Humility. True repentance.  The Pharisee and the Tax Collector, again.  Luke 18:9-14. Go.   

We finished and one of the men spoke up and thanked me for sharing Truth with them.  He then introduced himself as the chief of the village and a born again believer.

Wow. I get to do this.  I get to do this.

Everyone dispersed after praying and Scovia and I finished our 3 minute walk of a journey to the motorbike.  Kiden followed close behind, of course.

We drove off…with me praying that many are that much closer to knowing Jesus than prior to us coming.  I pray that God will give them ears to hear and eyes to see….spiritually.  I pray that the chief of that village will be purposeful to encourage the Word of God to be shared there.  I pray so many things…but mostly that Jesus will be truly known for who He is.    

Jesus is not like going to Juba.

Time is closing in and my time here is soon to be finished. 

It’s an interesting thing, doing the day in and day out life here while knowing in the back of my mind (okay, some days it’s in the forefront of my mind) that in two and a half weeks life will be drastically different.  You would think that it’d make sense to say that things will return back to “normal”.  I’ve long known that there is no such thing.  I will return alright, but I will never go back to what I was like prior to leaving.  Things will, yes.  Circumstances, maybe.  Me, no.  I praise God for that beautiful truth.

Things have been a bit slower as far as the groups go since getting back from R&R.  2 of the groups actually met while I was gone, which I thank God for.  There’s always a moment when I find myself wanting to be disappointed that more didn’t “happen”, but right there along with that temptation is the Truth that ONE of these groups successfully meeting-without me-is something to sing to Jesus about!  The week I got back it was like I had been gone for a year and people were just thrilled to see me again.  It was pretty sweet, I’d admit.  I just had to laugh though…

The first day I went to Wudu market after getting back Scovia and I were just walking down the road…hand in hand..chit chatting about life and God and simply enjoying each other’s company(reminder: totally culturally acceptable) and not one or two, but three people either came up to me or yelled out my name as I was walking and expressed just how much they missed me and the group meeting with me! I would greet them and then they’d walk off and I looked to Scovia and asked, “Who was THAT?!” haha…she and I just both laughed, because 2 out of the 3 we both hadn’t the slightest clue.  The other person was someone who hadn’t come to the group in months. 

Now, there are so many things you can take away from this.  Did it feel good to be missed? Yes.  Do I think it was really me they missed? Nope.  I didn’t know them.  I think they missed what it is that I carry around with me…Jesus…rather, things of Jesus. They missed it while it was gone, but aren’t willing to take advantage of it while it is literally at their fingertips.  In their homes. At their workplaces.  In their churches.  So many people in Jesus’ time wanted to see Jesus.  They loved it when He was in their town performing miracles and sharing Truth.  But, how many of them dug through roofs to get to Him? How many people worked their way through the crowd just for the chance to grasp the edge of His garment?  How many were willing to leave the comfort of their lives for a life of reckless abandonment for Him? I think you know the answer.  

I just can’t help but feel (in a very small way) what Jesus felt.  They so often wanted what benefited them, but not the Person who was able to give it so freely.  I’m done with wanting what Jesus can give me and totally missing what it is I really need: Him.

Here’s another insight into what a day so often looks like for me: I had my group this past Wednesday in Wudu and one of the member’s sister was in town so she joined us.  She was very outspoken (a breath of fresh air) and did such a great job of encouraging everyone else to share as well.  Everything she had to say was completely Biblical.  I found myself Amen-ing a lot! J The scripture we were discussing was the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector in Luke 18.  (Go ahead and give it a read if you need a refresher).  So, we were talking about the character that Jesus seeks.  We discussed judgments and what it is Jesus wants us to offer to Him. We also talked about our hearts and motives and how we could know the law perfectly, but relying on it for salvation isn’t what the Gospel is about, etc. Let me remind you, this lady that was visiting didn’t say anything I wouldn’t have said, or wasn’t already thinking. We get finished with the group, everyone is saying their goodbyes and Scovia is talking with this lady as I’m standing there.  She tells Scovia that she is SDA.  Now, I’ve heard pretty much all of the abbreviations for the denominations here, but hadn’t heard of this one until now.  So, they are talking and I’m just standing there thinking...”S..D…A…what is that? SDA…?”  Scovia leans over and whispers “Seventh Day Adventist”.  Ahhh.  Hmm…and then as the lady is walking off she decides to conclude everything by saying, “Yeah…faith is like going to Juba.  You can go through Yei…you can go here..or there…but all the roads lead to Juba.  That’s exactly what faith in Jesus is like.” And walks off….leaving Scovia and I standing there.  It was like I was hit in the face with a brick and I was like, “Wait. What?!!” and she had already walked off and I just stood there dumbfounded and looked at Scovia and said, “No. That’s wrong.  That’s the OPPOSITE of what it’s like to have faith in Jesus!!!”  Scovia and I literally just stood there letting it sink in, totally not expecting that, and both just started laughing out of sheer surprise. 

Do you see it?

This lady was a living example of the Scripture we studied.  She had all of the “right” things to say.  She dressed the part.  But, she didn’t get it.  While I don’t know the denomination through and through, I do know that Seventh Day Adventists follow the law.  How appropriate.

So many people here seem to know Jesus on the surface. But, that’s where it stops.  They know of Him.  They know about some of the things He does.  They know what they have been told they are supposed to look like and act like and say and do to be a Christian.

They don’t know Jesus and it is painstakingly heartbreaking. 

This in no way detracts from the fact that there is Bible believing, Jesus proclaiming, Gospel living, born again believers here.  There are. I give all glory to God for His saving grace on the lives of those He has called.  Some have come to know Jesus through these groups.  Some who were already born again have grown in their relationships and have been challenged. Some choose to reject the Truth. 

You know, I can’t wait to get to Heaven and find out what God has done, even with me being here, that I can’t see.  I can’t wait to see what He chooses to do in the future with all of the seeds that have been planted now.  It brings me so much encouragement to know that nothing I’ve done while being here has been done in vain.  Has it been hard? Goodness yes.  Has it been worth more than I can express? Yes, eternally so.