Part II...

Late last night Ben and Candi were airlifted to South Africa. He has been doing well but they have been unable to get his chest pain to subside. Their two kids are staying here with friends. Continue to remember all of them as they deal with these struggles.

SPECIAL REQUEST...

A coworker was rushed to the hospital today. He and his family live about two hours outside the city. They are the family I have mentioned visiting before. My friend was struggling with chest pains.

He has since been brought by ambulance here to the capital city. The truth is the medical facilities aren't much to write home about. Remember he and his family over the next few hours and days as we find out what the problem is.

"The Poor Will Always be With You..."

I don't give out much money here. One could easily go broke and not even have begun to address the problem that exists. Another issue is trying to figure out what the problem is. I'm not sure the problem is money. Of course they have very little but there are problems much bigger than that. In the light of the little they have they are still a people full of life and joy. It is quite amazing. They have nothing yet they share all they have with their family and friends.

Today however my heart was broken. One of my favorite spots in town is a little café called Café Chocolata. It was started by an organization to help get prostitutes of the streets and give them a job. I like it cause it is close the house, good food, and super cheap.

Some days I get the chance to eat out front on the porch. It is a great place to watch the traffic and the people and they pass by. It is also a heavy begging spot though. Many come right up to the little black wrought iron fence that surrounds the porch and begin to ask for money. They have perfected the puppy dog look. Their eyes, their smile, the slight lean of their head all makes you feel like the dirt under their feet because you aren't willing to give them money. I haven't figured out how to say "no"...all they teach me is "I don't have any." Well imagine that slap in the face. A young mother, probably 30, has one baby strapped to her back with a three-year-old child at her feet. Both are asking for money or even bread. My response is "I don't have any." (I am sitting at a café, sipping on coffee or tea, eating a cinnamon roll or croissant saying, "I don't have any.")

A fear I have is what is called "rice bowl believers." The concept claims that anyone will commit to "the way" if you make food or some other need the reward. My friend I mentioned in the last update (I'll call him T.) shared with me yesterday that the minimum wage has been raised. To be honest I didn't know they had one. It has been raised to 200 something a month. That works out to about $25 USD per month. Why wouldn't they choose "the way" for some extra money or bread; I would in the same situation?

Lots of tangents in here, but back to the story. Today at Chocolata I heard two boys repeatedly saying "hello." I had seen out of the corner of my eye that they were about 20 feet away to my left. They were sitting on a stump beside a big ditch. I ignored them - not just because I am a jerk, but because I have learned that this is the response of nationals if they are not going to give anything.

The two got louder; I could tell they had cut their distance in half. I turned to acknowledge them and responded with my pat answer, "Yellum (I don't have any.)." They smiled at me and I could tell the one on the left was chewing on something red. He was a beautiful little boy with a big smile and bright eyes. His clothes were some shade of brown as is typical. I don't know if they start that way or turn that way over time. His shorts (only beggars wear shorts, usually) were torn and shredded at the edges. His shirt was ragged and clearly would continue to fit for a few more years. His friend didn't look much different. He might have been a year or two older and although he too had a beautiful smile it didn't compare to the one snacking on something.

I turned to my friend I was studying with and asked what he was chewing on. He looked his way and couldn't tell so he asked him. I caught the words "what" and "why" - I'm improving but slowly. I asked what it was. The boy was eating clods of dirt. When asked why his only response was because he had nothing else.

I don't know how to respond to this. I am back in my comfortable apartment typing away on my computer about to make some pb&j. This little eight or ten year old boy is sitting on the street a mile or so away eating dirt.

I did nothing mighty; my response was quite pitiful. I bought a couple croissants and handed them through the fence.

On the way home I was approached by six more people asking for money and bread. I shook my head no and smiled at them. I wonder if they read my smile as mocking. I pray they don't. I want to show them I care but I can't help them all. I hope they pass by blessed by the smile rather than spitting on the ground I walked on as I passed them by.

Just before reaching home, a mother passed with two or three kids. I noticed one specifically. She chased after me hands out, palm up. She was 3 or 4 maybe. Her hair was curly and her smile was infectious. She wore a dress that had faded. It likely began as some shade of brown or orange. I asked my friend what she was saying. As she pursued me less than a block from my house, she repeatedly said, "Daddy, Daddy."

I prayed to her father and I asked that he would give her lunch and a place to sleep tonight. I asked that he would continue to prick my heart so that I would hurt for those in need that surround me. I asked that he would remind me I am just as desperate and in need of his love. I asked that he would come to this young family and begin to meet their need for love and security. I asked that the day would come that I see her again. That day might be in this life or perhaps the one that continues but I pray we meet again as siblings following the same father.

Thanks for praying with me.

"When You Gotta Go..."

**WARNING: THIS STORY IS TRUE AND A BIT GRAPHIC, BUT IT SURE WAS FUNNY. JUST KNOW YOU WERE WARNED AND I DON'T MAKE YOU READ THESE THINGS!**

This country is hard on the intestines. I've shared that before. The truth is stomach problems are something I experienced in the states on more frequent than preferred occasions too. A big difference was I could be a bit choosier about where to take care of business in the states.

Most of the time here I have been pretty choosy. On sick days I stay home close to the comforts of my own baby blue porcelain throne and a good book. Yesterday, there was no choosing and there was definitely no waiting on better facilities. Many public bathrooms in the states are just gross...they smell bad, they dont flush, the five guys before you missed the whole and drenched the seat and the floor below. Not a pleasant picture. (Let me say that if this story is beginning as offensive to you: first I apologize, second I say you just go in those toilets at the local 7/11.)

Here it is a bit different. First, never ever go anywhere with out your own supply of paper. Small Kleenex packages are available about everywhere. There is no guarantee that even the nicest bathrooms will have paper. Also beware, only on occasion will you be lucky enough to find a toilet with a seat. And seat or no seat it will stink.

Now when I say no seat I don't mean that the part that we put up and down depending on the business to be done will be missing. I mean there is no seat! There is nothing to sit on. We lovingly refer the type of toilets used here as "squatty potties." Let me be honest with you. My knees can't handle squatting long when I'm not going to the bathroom. But yesterday, there was no option.

I'm squatted down over this porcelain hole in the ground with two places to put my feet. I got my pants around my ankles terrified I'm gonna leave what I gotta leave on my khaki's instead of in the hole. I'm also scared my legs are gonna give out and I'm gonna be sitting in the hole (trust me that would not be good at all). And to make matters worse my friend is finishing his lunch while I'm "experiencing culture," and it just plain stinks in there.

My friend gets worried and decides to call my mobile phone. Why do people do that? They do it in the states too. Who in the world is gonna answer their phone if they are in a public toilet not feeling well? The only possible way one might answer is if their stuck and then probably not...imagine the embarrassment. Not to mention if I needed help in the toilet, I'd call them.

So after wading through the difficulties and holding myself up with the wall behind me, I got business taken care of. I'd be all right if I don't have to use one of those again. The truth is I will. They are the most common here. And really it wasn't quite the nightmare I expected.

Excluding this event yesterday was all in all a great day. I'll tell more soon.

A Holy Day...

Yesterday was a huge holiday here. It is called Timkit. They are celebrating the baptism of Jesus. We went to this huge field which is one of the primary places of celebration. There were tons of people there.

The event actually lasts about 24 hours. On Tuesday they took all of the arks out of the churches and paraded them to the nearest water source. For some this is quite a journey. They camp there overnight and wait for the next morning. On Wednesday the priest blesses the water, be it a creek or a pond, or wherever they are. At this point people go crazy to get to the water. Their belief is that this cleanses them of their sins.

I'm not sure what the source was, but where we were they were using everyday water hoses. They were spraying them in the air onto people who wanted desperately to get hit by the water. It made me think of being a kid. We loved to play water games. We had a basic yard sprinkler that just went back and forth. But for hours we could play in the water. These men and women fought to get wet just as we fought to get near the water. But to them this is religious tradition.

There is such confusion. The patriarch (like the pope) of their church spoke. He was educated in the states and speaks pretty clear English. He shared that this event was not re-baptizing but educating the people on what happened to Jesus. It made since and makes the event look more profitable. The problem is I don't think any of the people believe as he claimed. To them this day is huge...on this day they are forgiven for a years worth of sins. The water blessed by the priest saves them...they've lost sight of the blood of the lamb.

It was a good celebration. Great time with friends. And a huge window into the religious culture here.

Possible Need Met...

In the recent update letter I mentioned a need for a digitized map of the city. The truth is many of the people that I work with didn't think one existed and if it did they didn't think we would ever get it. Well I have a new friend who told me I may be able to have it in a few days, but it might cost me...about $1.50. I told him that was "NO PROBLEM!"

Continue to lift this possibility up. This is a huge step in our efforts to map out the city.

A New Friend...

One night at the conference I met a new friend. His name is Caleb; he is seven. As we were singing together, I kept noticing he was watching me. It actually made me quite jealous of his dad that he was standing beside and hugging on. (I am ready to be singing to our Father with my son!)

After the service ended Caleb and I were sort of watching one another. He came over and said, "Whats your name?" I said, "My name is Chad. Come and tell me what your name is." He introduced himself and came and sat next to me. We talked for twenty minutes or so about a little bit of everything. He had a great laugh. He would tell a story about himself or his brothers and he would just laugh his head off. Eventually someone came and found him to tell him his parents were worried because they didnt know where he was.

Caleb and his parents are an inspiration to me. What I didn't tell him is that I knew who he was. We had actually met once although I only vaguely remember him and he clearly didn't remember me at all.

Just over two years ago Calebs dad was shot. He was working in a hospital in a Middle Eastern country. A man came in and killed three people; he also shot Caleb's dad. They spent some time back in the states recouping and then they returned to the country they had been in. To this day they live there. I met them the day they returned. I will never forget the words that Caleb's mom spoke. She was honest in sharing that she was scared to be there and some days all she would want to do is take her little boys home. But she continued and said that she was called to be in that country with those people and although it might be hard at times she was going to follow through with that call.

I'm not sure I'm that committed. Sure I live here now. But I'm single; I've never been attacked for what I believe; I don't have to be as concerned about protecting others as I am myself.

The night before I met Caleb I heard a recorded sermon. A black pastor tries to explain who God is. It is called My King. I had heard the sermon once before. I was at Covenant College on top of Lookout Mountain in Georgia. A young man recited the 5 or 6 minute sermon, complete with mimicking the pastor's voice. That night it became clear that I was called to spend my life serving. I never anticipated that call would include a stay here. At that point I had no idea what all answering yes would entail. I still don't know. My hope is that I am as faithful as Caleb and his parents. I hope that I love my Father that much. I hope that I trust him that much.

My Travels...

I got back home Tuesday at about 4am. I returned from spending two weeks traveling outside of Africa. I went to Turkey. The country claims to be 98% Muslim; they are also very proud of the fact that they are a "secular country." It works out to be perhaps 25% - 30% are actually practicing Muslims.

We had a great visit. We got to see lots of cool places. In Istanbul we stayed inside the walls of the old city. We saw St. Sophia - a super old church that then became a mosque that is now a museum with aspects that represent Christian faith and others that are Muslim. We roamed all over the place and got to meet lots of interesting people.

It was quite different from being here. Poverty is still an issue there as I understand it, but it looks very different from the poverty that is here. The country is much more commercial and modern. I ate at TGI Fridays, Starbucks, Burger King, Arbys. (Wow those were good!) New Years Eve we had Burger King and then went into this place that was similar to a Super Wal-Mart. It was overwhelming. I had forgotten what it was like to be in a store with that much stuff.

The highlight of touring was visiting the 7 churches mentioned in the beginning of Revelation. Ephesus and Laodicea were my favorites as they are the most restored. Earthquakes have destroyed all of the cities we visited. It is hard to believe that these places were significant enough that they were being written to in scripture. Now they just look like a bunch of rocks...old rocks. It was really neat to visit them though.

After the tours I spent a week at a conference (this is really why I was traveling). All of the people that work in our region joined together for fellowship, refreshing, and training. It was good to spend time with coworkers especially my supervisors that I hadn't seen in a year and a half. They are still in the states until March, but it was good to spend time with them there. I have a better grasp now on what my work will look like over the next years.

It was a good trip but exhausting. By the time it was over I was ready to be home. Now it is time to jump back into the swing of things here.

Back @ Home...

I am back in Africa safe and sound. More coming soon I promise! Sorry for the brief hiatus.