Last words …

It is getting that time.  The time for last words.  Although in reality, they may not be my last words to the Atitogon cluster of churches that I gave two Sundays ago, still it had that feeling to it, with only two months left in Togo.

I was really frustrated.  They could hardly remember what we had all studied together the previous month when we had gathered.  It seemed one of those moments when futility is pondered and methods are questioned.

What does it all boil down to?  I asked myself what message would I give if it were my last one for them to hear?  What message would be simple enough, yet strong enough, to endure the mundane of tomorrow as well as shine in the dark moments of confusion?

God led me to John 13:33-35.  “My children, I will be with you only a little longer.  You will look for me, and just as I told the Jews, so I tell you now:  Where I am going, you cannot come.  A new command I give you:  Love  one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

No explanation was needed.  No stories to give it extra merit were called for.  We just listened, learned, and promised to obey.

 

There and back again and on to someplace else.

Well, that title hasn’t ever been used, surely.  I’m back in Togo again.  You probably didn’t even know I had left, did you?

Two Saturdays ago I received a call from my dad that my cousin’s husband had been killed in an accident.  My wonderful bride, knowing the closeness of our family looked at me and said, “Go.”

Thirty-six hours later, I was in my car dodging goats and chickens as I passed the two thousand mud huts between our village and the Ghana border.  Thirteen hours after that I was hurtling through the air leaving my third world behind heading for civilization.  It was all a blur, but after forty-two hours of travel I arrived in Arkansas.

I have never been hit so hard by the contrast of those two worlds as I was on this trip.  I think it was because on other visits, I was prepared to go, months in advance.  I had my list of restaurants to eat at, things to see and do, all planned out.  This was “next day” travel.  It was such a quick trip.  I spent four days traveling and only five days there.  How odd is that?

My time there was incredible.  Sad, intensely sad but, also meaningful, and in the midst of it, there was laughter.  I would have never imagined.  Emma and Katherine did that.  It is always good to see family.  That is a price we pay that I try not to think about often / never!

Now, I’m back again.  I passed back by all the same mud huts and here I am and we are ready to pack up and move to Rwanda.

 

Catching up.

Well, I can’t attempt to blog on all of the events of the last six weeks, so, I will attempt to expand some of the previous entry’s musings. In doing so, I reserve the right to go a bit beyond my ten minutes, so, no harassment for it’s length.

The Frank stove. This has been a wonderful undertaking and it has huge potential. When Frank Bunner challenged me to build a better stove for the meeting place in Tabligbo where we have most of the conferences, I began doing research on this “rocket” stove that is all the rage. Most of the ones I found were made out of metal which posed a problem for Togo since the ones I wanted to start here were to be made from mud because they could be built easily and would be cost free. Just using this stove, by the way, it is predicted that people will use up to 60 % less wood. So, we are building them and they work. It has been incredible. They aren’t pretty but they are extremely functional. Here are some pictures.

As for implementing what we learned in Zambia, it has been quite a bit easier than I could have imagined. It seems that many of the Watchi leaders have been poised for change and have desired to work more effectively. The principles we learned in Zambia were not extremely different from what we have tried to do here in Togo, they just took several aspects to a new level. At the root of it is the inductive Bible study that is used in evangelism and then continues to be used in the church’s worship time. This type of Bible study is done individually and then discussed as small groups and entails writing out the passage to study word for word, putting those verses in your own words, and then writing out how you can apply and obey this word from God in your daily life. Afterwards this is discussed and shared first in the small groups and then with the rest of the church. Along with this there is strong encouragement, even in the evangelism phase to share what you are learning each week with others who are not yet believers. In addition to this the evangelism is centered on finding a person of peace, who is hospitable and interested in spiritual matters and working through that person or the spiritual leader for the village that he directs you to. It is family based vs. individual and corrects several of the issues that the churches in Togo are struggling with. Most of the members of the churches struggle to understand the passages preached to them, then they don’t walk in obedience or apply those (sounds American, huh), and thirdly there is no accountability to share what they learn with those who haven’t heard. As well, there is a strong emphasis on the community and functionality of the church for that specific culture. So, that is what we are trying to share with those willing to receive it. Keep praying for us, especially as we figure out how to implement this in Rwanda.

Blessings.

 

Series of extraordinary events.

I apologize for my lack of blogging. It has been three weeks of extraordinary events that I’ll attempt to relate to you over several ten minutes of musings. In the meantime here is a recap:

We finished our time with the interns who had been joined by former teammate Frank Bunner. It was so right for him to be here and so unnatural for him to leave.

I accompanied Dave Reeves, Matt Miller, and Murphy Crowson to Zambia via South Africa for a conference on church planting methods.

Being late for our flight out of South Africa we had to overnight in Johannesburg. It was a not in Kansas (Africa) anymore moment for us as our eyes popped out at the level of development there.

Finally we made it to the conference in Livingstone, Zambia for our week long study about church planting movements only to have my missions’ paradigms squashed a bit after just coming to terms with being a missionary.

Took in the sites of Livingstone: Zambia’s only rhino, Victoria Falls with a lunar rainbow, and a Subway restaurant.

After the conference we then took a brief trip to Botswana for Chobe National Park. This included a river crossing back to Zambia without my passport (back in the safari truck in Botswana). That was almost more exciting than seeing a leopard that same morning just thirty yards from our truck. Did witness an elephant dung toss, though, at David Reeves while he was in the shower (it was a direct hit in the chest — ooohhh.) as well as got to know the Pat Fanning family really well of Dublin, Ireland (an unexpected treat!).

Now, I’m back home, trying to teach what I learned and helping local people build rocket stoves so they will burn less wood. By the way, we are naming the stove Adokpo (stove in Eve) Frank after Frank Bunner because there isn’t a word for rocket in Eve! Thanks Frank for encouraging it.

That’s the recap, may delve deeper into some of these things and may even put photos to it. Blessings.

 

an enlarged view

We have been praying more and more for mercy from God for the Watchi and that he would bless them with faith, even encouraging their faith by answering their prayers.  This past Sunday, I sat in church stunned by the reports I was hearing.

You see, we have purposefully sought to not limit the view of God for the Watchi.  In my theological heritage I recall hearing, ever so often, what God does do and what God no longer does.  It usually dealt with Him having a more limited involvement with man in the area of acting on our behalf in answer to prayer.

This never jived with what I read in the Bible.  So, I was confused, then frustrated, and later in my moments of need, prayerful; and God answered in very encouraging and specific ways.  It was as if He was saying, “I’m right here with you.  I still care, and I still answer prayers.”

As we have studied prayer and God’s love with our family here, we have encouraged them to pray with faith, knowing that God loves them and loves to rescue, bless, heal, etc….

Sunday as I sat in the mud structure of Togbonou Kope, with its scantily thatched roof, the time came for sharing what God has been doing in the lives of the members there.

One woman shared how her niece was very ill.  The family members still worship the idols.  They had tried everything but to no avail.  She had stopped by just to see how things were and saw that things were not good at all.  She did what she could.  She went into the room with the family and prayed for God to heal the girl.

He did.  She’s well.

Next, Kossi shared how his family has been extremely resistant to Jesus and asked for us to pray for them.  After this request was shared he went on to tell of how last week his cousin was dying.  They actually called for him, knowing that he believed in Jesus, to come and pray for the young man.  They had sacrificed to the voodoos all weekend and were pulling out all stops to stave off the inevitable.  The infirmed had actually lost his vision as well.  Kossi came in, put his hands on the man’s eyes, prayed and the man could see.  He then prayed again for the man’s health and now,

he’s well.

I’m encouraged.

Hope you are too.

Luke 18:8  … However when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?

 

God bless the last ones

Kekeli is her name and she daily takes her post outside of the Concord grocery store in Lome, Togo. She is severely crippled and is among the hundreds of those begging for loose change on the streets of the capital city. Often we are asked for money, but we rarely take note of those asking us. We give with a “God bless you” and usually a smile, but these “last ones” who shall one day be first have become part of the scenery of Togo.

Kekeli is different. Her smile is what caught our attention. One day I was feeling rather generous and I gave about twice as much as usual. The amount was equal to a legitimate wage for a day’s labor. Kekeli reacted with glee. It was such a display of joy that Louise began to call her my girlfriend. It went on for months that I would give her a lion’s share of the change and her being overjoyed before I ever asked her name. In reality her joy was infecting me and those around her.

Last week I decided it was finally time to ask the name of my “girlfriend”. She told me it was Kekeli.

Kekeli means light.

Fitting, don’t you think?

 

He healed my cassava!

Each year that we have interns we send them out to live with a family in one of the farming villages far away from civilization and other comforts. We call this bonding and it is an important part of cultural study for any missionary.

After three or four days we go and pick them up and they are gushing with stories of various adventures that range from culinary delights to the amazing power of nonverbal communication. It is rare that anything of great significance, spiritually speaking, occurs. Most of the time everyone returns with the ‘wow, we sure are blessed as Americans’ or the ‘living simply is where it’s at’ realizations, but I can’t remember a time when they came back with a ‘WOW, God showed up!’

This year was an exception and I got to hear about it first hand. Two of our interns bonded in the Adankonou area. One stayed with Tsokemawu (forgiven by God) and the other with Jerome (kind of a bland name for a Watchi, huh?).

On Sunday we arrived to worship with them all before taking the interns home and it came time for people to share what God had recently done in their lives. Tsokemawu stood up and talked about how he had been shocked that an American really could live with their family and eat out of the same bowl and drink from the same cup. He then stated how we are all really one in Spirit. Then his wife stood up. She talked about how amazed she was at the humility of the American that stayed with them. (That is something you don’t hear every, or maybe I should say, any day.) Of course, she was amazed that he helped cook and went to the field and played with her kids. Then she stopped and said, “He even prayed for the kids when they were sick and as soon as he finished, they were well.” We sat up at this. Part of me wanted to say, “That isn’t fair, he doesn’t even speak the language.” Or maybe, “He cheated and used English!” I did inquire as to how sick they were and how well they became, and I found out that yes, they were really sick and yes, they immediately became really well and all I could say was, “Yah, Kafu Mawu daaa. Enye nusekatatato vava!!” (loosely translated as WOW!) As if that wasn’t enough, then the old man, Amekpa, stood up and said, “They went to my field of cassava that was all wilted and dying and they prayed for it and this morning I went out and it was all good and green! They healed my cassava!” This time their was no temptation for banter or discussion about the importance of working in the vernacular language, it was already out there, “They healed my cassava!”

We all said, “Wow!” The interns didn’t plan for this. We didn’t even consider it. It’s just that one intern, without speaking their language, in compassion handed things over to God that could only accomplished in Jesus’ name and amen,

it came to pass.

This kind of reminds me of some things Jesus said.

John 14:14 Whatever you ask in my name …

Faith

 

Peace rules.

Odd title, I realize.  It is something I am investigating.

Colossians 3:15 says, “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace.  And be thankful.”

O.k.

Now, I see from the passages surrounding this that Paul is talking about relationships, but surely this “ruling” peace goes deeper than that.

We are faced with lots of unanswered questions every day as we think and plan for our transition to Rwanda.  I could list them but I would definitely exceed my alloted ten minutes.  As we consider these details, both spiritual and physical for our move, though, we usually feel anything but peaceful.  In fact they tend to kind of pile up and become a sort of …

burden.

Oh, yeah, didn’t Jesus mention that?

Matthew 11:28-30 says, “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

So, yeah, here we all are with our various burdens, challenges, struggles, etc… and Jesus is offering us peace and Paul is saying, “Let it rule.”  How do we do that?  How do we submit these worries to the rule of Christ’s peace?

10 minutes are up.  Reply if you like.

Shalom.

 

I’m sorry

Those are words that we don’t like to say.

In fact, I kind of despise them.

Two weeks ago I was cheated by my mechanic and charged almost $1500 for a repair that should have cost $700 or so.

I reacted. I didn’t think. I just exploded all over him.

The Eve language is wonderfully capable of exuding anger. You could almost say that with it’s high and low inflections along with the way it is pushed out from the diaphragm that it was made for expressing extreme emotions.

Well, with my mechanic standing there, I, ashamedly, utilized the strength of the Eve language.

I told him he would hear from me in a couple of weeks after I figured things out.

I changed a part back out that he had installed that I didn’t need.

I called around to find the legitimate price of the part he had put on.

Then I settled for an amount that I thought we could pay.

He then called me for a meeting.

Over the years, as I’ve been sharing, we have been learning to pray. So, I took the occasion seriously. I had softened over the interim and began to pray asking God to guide me in this process. What I heard was, “You need to say you are sorry for the way you acted.” I wanted to debate, never a good idea with God (remember Job?), but I didn’t. I thought about it. God was right. I had not fared well in the previous test.

We met together, the mechanic and I. His name is Mawuko which means God alone. I love that. After the traditional greetings, I started by saying I was sorry. His countenance totally changed. Peace settled in on us and his anger from being shamed by my reaction immediately dissipated. I gave him the unneeded part and then broached the subject of payment.

He asked me how much I could pay and I told him half of what he had asked.

I waited for the rejection. I was disappointed.

He agreed.

Mercy.

Truly, even in the Eve language, a gentle answer turns away wrath.

 

A lesson about prayer

As missionaries to the Watchi people of southern Togo, back in 1997, we were distressed by the lack of age we were seeing among the members of the various churches. The average believer seemed to be a nineteen year old male farmer. It was time to start training leaders and we knew that we needed some “old men” in the church that would provide stable leadership for the fledgling movement of Jesus.

So, we began praying for old men to want to walk with Jesus.

About a month later, dressed more like a Peace Corps volunteer than a missionary I was walking around in a new village with some men from Tabligbo. As we walked along we noticed an old man sitting beside a coffin stand, yes that is a place where several coffins are for sale roadside. This papa had also taken notice of us and did something that shocked everyone.

He said in the Eve language, “Mawu fe nutsu, va gblo nam tso Yesu nuti.” This is translated, man of God, come tell me about Jesus; and he was looking at me when he said it.

How did he know I spoke Eve? How did he know that I knew about Jesus? How? What was going on?

When I retell this story, I am amazed. I can almost smell the air and remember exactly where I was standing and what I was wearing when he called out to me like that. It was so surreal, or maybe I should say so super-real.

This man that I called Papa was completely crippled by arthritis. He was suffering greatly, yet thinking very clearly. When I later asked him why he had wanted to learn about Jesus, he told me that it was because the idols had failed him. He knew in his heart that God would not.

He did find Jesus. He was reborn in Christ and then several months later left us to be with Him.

I have always been rather attention deficit. God has had to use some special moments in my life to open my eyes. Being side swiped by an 18 wheeler and drug down the interstate against a retaining wall comes to mind. Not as dangerous, but just as poignant to me is this moment when God was wanting to encourage me to pray.

It is a lesson I am still learning.

You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it. John 14:14