The Translator Skit

Here is the link for the translator skit that Paul Freeman and I did this past Sunday in Midland, TX. Paul's mom videoed it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ywlURnZpHg It's pretty funny.

A ride I will never forget

Several weeks ago I flew into Dar after a visit to Mafia Island. Landing at about 2 PM, I was pretty sure that I would be home in no time. I grabbed a taxi and off we went. Little did I realize that the Prime Minister was also out and about.

As in most African countries, the P.M. receives very preferential treatment- the roads are lined with police officers and all other vehicles are forced off the road until his convoy passes. No big deal. Normally.

This time, however, it was a different story. His route through the city included every major artery and intersection that I needed to get home- with multiple stops in between. To say that traffic was horrendous would be an understatement. We literally sat for a full hour not moving more than 20 feet. It was mind-numbing.

As the hours came and went with no destination in sight at least one person was totally unfazed: the taxi driver. He rambled on and on about life in Dar, different roads, famous clients, his home part of Tanzania, family, etc.. Being quite exhausted (see the pic on my FB profile shot the day before), I just nodded my head: "uh huh....uh huh".

With more vitality than the Dar Es Salaam Energizer Bunny he continued talking non-stop for hours. I was almost in a comatose state from the heat, humidity, car fumes, honking horns, and the din of my driver's voice (this state is technically referred to as post-traumatic traffic jam syndrome in case you are wondering) when out of nowhere he started telling me about a child-hood experience:

In 1985 he lived in a small Islamic village in NorthEastern Tanzania. One day a team from America came. He was 15 years old. They showed films, sang songs, and preached about Jesus. The most striking memory for him was the prayer time following the message. Many sick and demon-possesed people were healed before his eyes. He told me that many gave their lives to Christ during those meetings. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. As he was sharing the Presence of God filled the car.

I stopped him. " Did you give your life to Christ then? " I asked almost sure of the answer.

"No" he said very sadly, his answer somewhat surprising me.

"For 25 years, I have regretted that I didn't make that decision."

"My life has been alcohol and cigarettes ever since- in fact I'm an alcoholic".

I was speechless.

Finally, I opened my mouth to share about a God who makes up for lost time.

At about 6.45 PM we finally reached home. Near my front door, 25 years of regret and remorse over missed opportunities vanished as my new friend surrendered his life to Jesus. It was beautiful.

I just saw him again today. The smile on his face told it all.

Moody, Mafia, & Missions

After 3 weeks Moody can finally walk again. Thank you to all who have been praying for him. His leg has almost totally healed where he was hit by the pick-up. He has really grown in his faith during this time. And he's thrilled to be back at church.

Over the past week he and I have been praying together regarding the opportunity of a lifetime. Tomorrow morning Moody will board an airplane for the 1st time in his life. His destination is Mafia island. He will be flying with Roger, Paul, and a team from the USA that are coming for an extreme missions trip. Over the next 10 days they will be be taking the message of Christ into what has to be one of the darkest corners of East Africa.

Moody is so excited he can hardly contain himself. When I told him that he would be going on his first ever missions trip on an airplane he came unglued. He shook his head, laughed, and began to rejoice for at least 5 minutes. When he finally regained composure, all he could say was: "now the pain from my accident has finally disappeared". Well said.

Being a MBB from a part of Tanzania that is similar to Mafia he is very excited for the opportunity to share his testimony there. I personally believe this is just the beginning of some incredible Kingdom stories that will develop as God uses Moody's life and story to touch many Muslims.

Please pray for this team. Mafia is not an easy place. They need protection, favor, wisdom, courage, clarity of presentation, & a raw display of the power of God!

Moody and the Motorcycle Part I

Yesterday was one of one of those days that you don't really want to repeat- ever.

My cell phone rang at about 3.30 PM. I looked at the screen- Moody. I answered as always do when he calls. "Hi Moody- what's up?"

A frantic non-Moody voice on the other end started rattling off Swahili at a frighting rate. "There's been a terrible accident. Come right away. Moody is in really bad shape."

My heart sank into my stomach. We had just been together an hour earlier here at the house. He had pleaded with me to let him use the motorcycle that I've been keeping for a friend. I hesitated for a very long time; but finally agreed somewhat reluctantly.

(Moody for those who many not know is a dear friend and employee who helps me and the Ocean International Community Church. He does just about everything from electrical repair, to document registration. He is a MBB having come to Christ early last year. His testimony is really powerful!)

As I jumped into my vehicle I couldn't think straight. My head was swimming. "What if?" I quickly banished the thought from my mind.

My cell rang again. This time it was the real Moody. "I'm in bad shape- I got hit by a pick-up truck that ran through a red-light. While I was lying on the ground bystanders robbed me of my license and all my money. Two good samaritans finally intervened and are taking me to the hospital. Please come quickly".

I found out later it was a hit and run.

I sped down the road racing to the hospital. He called again. "Please Steve I don't know if I'm going to make it".

I jumped out of my vehicle and raced into the hospital. There was only one doctor on duty for over 100 patients waiting to be seen. Moody was somewhere in the middle in a wheel-chair that looked more like go-kart complete with rusty spokes. The swarm of patients waiting parted as I approached.

I took a deep-breath bracing myself for the worst. As the good samaritans wheeled him around to face me- I assessed the damage. He was in shock. Several really nasty gashes on his legs and ankles. But his upper body was totally unscathed. "Am I going to make it?" he asked. I breathed a sigh of relief- "yes you are going to be fine".

The crowd agreed that he should be seen right away. The doctor on duty had 2 other patients in the office while he talked with us. "And what seems to be the problem?" he asked.

"Errr....he was hit by a pick-up truck...." I answered in disbelief.

"That seems to be happening a lot recently" he said without lifting his eyes. "Take him to the theater for operation".

5 minutes later Moody was lying on the theater table as we watched a nurse start sowing his gaping wounds back together. No anesthesia. After half an hour, they announced that he would be fine and he was discharged.

I settled the bill as the others helped him to the vehicle.

Please keep Moody in your prayers. He's supposed to be going on his first missions trip next month with Roger and company. He is really excited and doesn't want to miss it for anything. He will be fine, but his legs have some pretty nasty road rash.

The Swahili Swamp Rat's 1st Easter Message

I awoke to the sound of pounding rain at 5.30 AM. Most of the time the rain is a great blessing- except on Sundays. Loading up the sound equipment, instruments, and supplies for our Sunday morning gathering in the rain isn’t much fun at all. After just a few minutes I was soaking wet and shivering. (I’m just not used to the chill of 70 degree weather compared to the normal 100+ Dar heat). The cat and two dogs were hiding from the downpour under the awning of the house as Paul and I worked for 30 minutes to get everything loaded. They stared at us as if we had lost our minds; at the time I think I whole-heartedly agreed with them.

Our cat recently had 4 kittens. ( For clarification: it’s not my cat. And I don’t like the cate. And the cat doesn’t like me. And if I could somehow get rid of the cat….but that is another story for another wet and dreary Dar day.) Moody took two of the kittens to his place leaving two with their mother. As I headed inside to change my soaked shirt I noticed that the remaining two kittens were nowhere to be seen as their mother gloomily stared at me from the corner. Experiencing a sudden burst of insight I thought to myself: “huh….cats must not like the rain too much”.

We connected the trailer and started the trek over to the cinema where the Ocean International Community Church meets every week. The road was like a river as the rain continued to pour down. I feared getting stuck in the mud. Reaching the cinema, we were promptly soaking wet again after a couple of miniutes as we unloaded everything in the sustained downpour.

The service was amazing. One of the best we have ever had. (Check out our podcasts at www.theoceanindar.net or find us on I Tunes at the Ocean in Dar). Several people made a decision to follow Christ and the worship was glorious!

We closed the service and packed everything up in the incessant rain. After a few minutes….yeah you get the idea….. Being soaked 3 times on one Sunday morning isn’t the best way to celebrate Easter in my opinion. It reminded me of the flood that hit church last Easter in Burundi when the whole sanctuary was under 3 feet of water before the end of the service (see last year’s blog entry).

I jumped into the landcruiser, connected the trailer, and started to turn around in the parking lot turned mud-bath. I longed for some dry clothes. And of course- the inevitable finally happened after days of soaking rain. The trailer sunk into the mud and the Land-Cruiser’s tires started spinning uncontrollably.

“How in the world do you get stuck in the mud on a multi-million dollar cinema facility & property?!??” I fumed as I jumped out of the car into the mud barely keeping my balance from flopping face forward into the slop.

As I assessed the damage our worship leader came over to try and help me. We decided to push the trailer as he gunned the accelator. Mud was flying every which way when suddenly- a high-pitched cry rang out from the trailer.

“Miaow!”

“Was that your stomach?” I thought to myself. Being wet and hungry left me in no mood for gastrinal feline impersonations.

“Miaow!” “Miaow!” “Miaow” came the reply from the mud under the trailer.

A stow-away kitten from the house emerged from his dismal hideout under the muddy tires of the trailer. He was totally caked with mud and soaked to the bone.

But for the “miaow” I would have thought him to be a Tanzanian swamp-rat with blue eyes- which would have been a rare find indeed in a Dar parking lot! And a very fortuituous one at that! (I probably could have sold him to some Swahili chef for a tasty Easter dish). But alas no swamp-rat stew this Easter- just one really petrified little kitty.

Apparently, he had taken refuge in the wheel casing of my axle from the pouring rain many hours earlier hoping to stay dry only to end up with the adventure of his little kitty lifetime. If the wheels of the tralier hadn’t sunk into the mud he would have been left or worse- crushed.

As I looked at the little feline swamp-rat I thought about the message I had just preached. Simon had come up to me after the service and said: “Steve I get it! Easter is all about getting a 2^nd chance and a new beginning with God.” Awesome insight from a dear Kenyan brother! As swamp-rat kitty continued to “miaow” and purr grateful for the rescue from the nasty, slimy parking lot mud I saw it: “You sure got a 2^nd chance on life this Easter my little swamp rat explorer!”

So I leave you with the message that Kitten #2 the adventurous feline turned soaking-wet Swahili swamp rat preached to me on Easter 2010:

We were all sinking in the mud of sin under the heavy trailer of this world headed nowhere fast as the rains of gloom soaked us through ….our identity was totally distorted because of our iniquity….. When suddenly Jesus Christ pulled us out, cleaned us up, restored us to our rightful identity, and took us in His glorious arms back to our proper home….. all because He is Alive!

The Dar Poop Suckers

Moody came bursting into the kitchen- "the pastor's house is soon going to be home of infectious diseases!"

"What??" I asked in disbelief not understanding what he was trying to tell me in proper Swahili indirectness.

"Haven't you looked around your house anytime recently? There's something you should probably see!" he cooly replied.

Following him out the door we proceeded to the flower bed right outside the kitchen window. Both of the dogs were lapping up some very stinky and putridly purplish liquid which had flooded the entire area.

"NO!" I yelled trying to keep the dogs from playing in the sewage pouring out all over the driveway. In the intense 100 degree Dar heat the smell was enough to make me queasy.

Moody had a proud look on his face that said: "see I told you so mr. pastor!" (He attends the church were I pastor).

"Errr.....what do we do Moody? How do we fix this kind of a problem? How do we clear this sewage chamber next to the kitchen?" I asked somewhat perplexed and powerless.

Seeming to ignore my question he began leading me on a tour of the house's sewage compartments. There are a grand total of six and every single one was bursting at the seems! As moody opened each one I saw things that I hope to forget quickly: poop of missionaries past and present was in no short supply bobbing to the top in the purplish compound that reeked of all things nasty.

"You see- it's a very big problem" he finally said.

Whether it was his gift of insight and perspicuity or the pungent smell of bacteria infested sewage that left me momentarily over-awed I'm not sure, but what I do know is that I couldn't think straight. I just kind of reeled in revulsion.

Finally, I had a thought- not a very good one, but at least it was a thought: "errr....ahhhh.....hmmmm....maybe we should......ummm....... find a way to.......errrr..... get rid of all this sewage" I finally muttered out loud.

"No problem- let's get the poop sucking crew to come over" Moody proposed.

In ignorance I just played along as if I knew exactly who and what the poop suckers were. We went driving to the nearby poop sucker truck station (I was shocked to find so many so close to my house). The captain of the crew was friendly, but made it clear- the cost would be 75,000 shillings and the truck could only handle a maximum of 10,000 liters of poop.

"Err.....okay.....that's fine.....I guess" I responded- unsure of how to calculate how much poop had accumulated hidden in the sub-terranean recesses of the house. We returned with the finest crew of poop suckers I've ever seen- (and ever hope to see again I might add).

The main chamber was the worst. In opening the cover, the sewage literally exploded out of the cavity making a river free flowing poop across the road outside the house. It was only then that I understood what a poop Sucker is truly capable of accomplishing.

"Washa! (turn it on)" yelled the captain. Simultaneously, he grabbed a 6 inch hose that began to suck the sewage river dry. This thing was so powerful it sucked up rocks, sucked up plastic bags, sucked up sticks, almost sucked up the captain's arm on more than one occasion- but most importantly it sucked up poop of all possible shapes, sizes, and states. Imagine a super sewage vacuum cleaner on wheels and you will have a mental image of the poop sucker. Within minutes the main chamber was almost empty; the river totally dry.

Just then Moody noticed that a second pipe was emptying fresh sewage into our main chamber. With the zeal of Sherlock Holmes he quickly tracked the source across the main road into the massive factory across the street. "Ahhh!!!! Foul!!!! They are illegally draining their poop into our system!" he cried out. In a flash he went down into the chamber- sewage and all- and plugged up the illegal pipe with all sorts of dirt, plastic bags, and rocks. "Now let's see them sneak their poop into our yard!" came his sinister laugh- as he emerged from the chamber covered with....well you know.....poop.

I could scarcely breathe let alone share in his moment of exhilaration at having successfully blocked someone's poop escape valve. My stomach throbbed with a dull ache. Too much poop for one day.

4,500 nasty liters later we had gathered up the majority of the poop in our sewage system and everyone was celebrating such a poop-sucking achievement except of course for the dogs. Both were bemoaning the fact that their new found beverage of choice had vanished as mysteriously as it had first appeared.

Life in Dar is never dull. We just found out that the main line that takes the sewage away from the house has been plugged for over a week. We may have one the poop sucking battle, but not the ongoing poop war. However, this time around I have friends in very influential poop sucking places!

As I conclude, I think of the Jesus' forgiveness and grace. I can't prove this- but I think God was as reviled by my sin as I am by the sight and smell of poop. Yet, the Bible says that "He who knew no sin became sin for us so that we might become the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus!" Wow! My sins are gone- I'm forgiven and clean- accepted by the Father because of the sacrificial death of Christ. Yep- The cross is even more powerful than the poop sucking trucks of Dar es Salaam!

One life

The news pierced my heart catching me totally off guard.

"Kibwana just passed away!"

"What???" I immediately asked Mohamed.

"He died of malaria on Monday" came the somber answer. The unexpected news left me stunned as the call on my cell-phone ended as abruptly as it had started.

I began to reflect on my short involvement with this young man's life. Many of you will remember the story. I wrote about it last July in a blog entry entitled: "What Does Jesus Think About Muslims?" (www.burundi-sk.blogspot.com)

The seemingly random circumstances of a trailer repair caused our paths to cross. Me- brand new to Dar. Unsure of why God had brought me here. Confused about the recent events of Burundi. Kibwana- the seasoned welder. Quiet. Friendly. Eager for some work. A Muslim.

Our conversation will burn inside my heart forever. God's love. The Spirit's drawing of a man's soul. A sincere question- "What does your Jesus think about us Muslims?" A heart-felt response that changed his eternal destiny. A friendship that developed.

As I reflected, gratitude welled up in my heart. Gratitude that I knew Kibwana was in the secure arms of Christ. Gratitude that the Gospel had reached him just a few months before his untimely demise. Gratitude that I had been obedient to share. Gratitude that he had the courage to respond by faith. Gratitude that God still loves Muslims!

Then a sense of urgency swept over me. I remembered what Bohnke said once upon a time. "The Gospel is eternal, but we don't have eternity to share it." There's an urgency when it comes to souls. Life is short. Eternity is long. We are but a thread that can snap at any given moment. So many people still haven't heard.

Oswald Smith used to say: "No one has the right to hear the Gospel twice while there are still people who have not heard it once." My heart is gripped with the force of this statement.

Lastly, the words of my favorite poem flashed to mind: "ONE LIFE WILL SOON BE PAST. ONLY WHAT'S DONE FOR CHRIST THE KING WILL LAST".

May we be stirred with Urgency in this hour.

Can't You Read?

We were hungry and more than slightly impatient to get some food!

Roger had invited us to meet them for lunch at a new Chinese restaurant. As we pulled into the parking lot an irate guard jumped into the middle of the road yelling at us to turn around.

I rolled down my window aggravated by the added delay. In my politest and most composed Swahili I asked the guard "to get out of the way!" He stubbornly refused informing us that we weren't allowed to park in the parking lot next to the Chinese restaurant. The exchange went back and forth for several minutes. My car engine was still running in the drive way as the guard pointed, yelled, and demanded me to move my vehicle. I appealed to every form of logic I could think of to get permission to park in the lot next to the Chinese restaurant.

We weren't getting anywhere fast. Then an idea struck me with great force! I pointed to the big sign on the main road. "It has an arrow pointing this way with chinese characters all over it" I nearly hissed in frustration. Un-phased by my attempt at Western logic, the guard cooly replied: "can't you read?"

"READ- READ WHAT?!?!"

"Yes... read....the board" he retorted. "It says no parking in this lot!"

"What are you talking about?!" I demanded- "it's all in Chinese"

"That's not my problem- you should learn Chinese, then you would know not to come into this parking lot."

"err......" I stared off into space.

A no parking sign for a Chinese restaurant next to the restaurant itself in a country where no one speaks Chinese. Made total sense to me. I slowly got back into the car, threw it into reverse, and left.

Who knew? I need to learn Chinese to live in Tanzania. I will have to keep that in the back of my mind for language study possibilities on my next term.

Early Morning Rescue

My phone rang at 4.36 AM. My colleague, Roger Kuykendall, was on the line. "We need you here at the guest house and we need you fast.....and make sure you pick up two taxis on the way."

In an early morning state of delirium I flew down the road in my vehicle veering towards the taxi stand at break neck speed. In jumbled "I should still be in bed" Swahili I barked orders for two taxi drivers to follow me to the guest house.

We made it to the guest house in an astounding 10 minutes. The team was there scrambling around with luggage. Their bus to take them to the airport had broken down minutes before. Several were still sweating from trying to push the 21 seater. However, this bus was going nowhere fast; but, they had a plane to catch! Roger did his best to keep people calm and give them direction.

We quickly loaded up the 19 members of the team and their luggage in 4 vehicles- including the two taxis. Roger had a plan- "take the short-cut; save time. drive fast- follow me!" Sounded good to me. I relayed the plan to the taxi drivers. "READY?" I almost shouted feeling the adrenaline of a high speed drive to the airport!

Their faces told me everything. "We can't go that way." "WHAT!?!" I almost screeched. I had come to far to fail now in helping Roger get this team to the airport on time. "We don't have any fuel in our cars." It slowly sunk in as only things can do at 4.53 AM. "You're a taxi driver for crying out loud- how can you not have any fuel?!?" I stammered incredulously.

"We have to go the other way rafiki (friend)....where the station is located" I just blinked off into the humid Dar darkness. "uhhhh....yah......okay" I mumbled. So instead of a break-neck speed early morning adventure to the airport following Roger, we instead crept along back to the station following the taxi drivers. Then we proceeded to pain-stakingly watch precious minutes disappear as they filled their tanks.

As I sat there it hit me. These guys just weren't prepared for a 4.36 AM airport run. They failed to be ready when they were needed the most. The funny thing about the whole story is that taxi stand where I first picked them up is 30 feet from the petrol station. So close; so far. I continued to ponder the situation as only one can do at 5.10 in the morning.

It hit me again- this is just like so many Christians. God has a plan. There is a specific purpose and agenda that He is accomplishing in our lives. He has everything set. The way is marked out. The steps are ordained. "Ready?" he asks. "Ummm........not really God.....you see......" and then come the excuses fast and furious.

Here at our church we are in a 40 day Prayer Initiative where we are seeking God for His direction and purpose for 2010. I challenge the people often: "Prayer is preparation!" "Prayer is positioning your heart to be ready!" "Prayer is saying 'HERE I AM'"- even when God calls at 4.36 AM. May our hearts be filled to overflowing with a determination to do His will no matter when, where, or what He calls us to.

(In case you are wondering the team made it to the airport thanks mostly to the fact that I still had my early morning break-neck speed adventure through the streets of Dar.)

God's 3 Favorite Words

Hebrews 10:9 "Then he said, 'Here I am, I have come to do your will"

At the beginning of 2010, I've been thinking about what kind of attitude it takes to make a difference for the Kingdom of God. It seems to me that all too often Christians approach God with a hidden agenda. We want God to bless our plans, goals, and dreams. We think that our walk with the Lord is all about us and our comfort. Rather, I think the Lord looks for people who pray: "God I want to be a part of what you are doing! I want to accomplish your agenda, your plan, your dreams, and your purposes."

Instead of saying: "God bless what I'm doing" we need to pray "God how can I be apart of what you are already blessing". God has 3 favorite words that He loves to hear: "Here I am!" If you look through scripture at the great heroes of the faith- people like Abraham, Moses, Samuel, etc.. there seems to be at least one common denominator. They all had experiences where God called them and they said: "HERE I AM!" Their lives were full of great acts of faith, great testimonies of God's power, and great accounts of God's faithfulness. Their attitude in serving God was simple: "HERE I AM"

The Hebrew equivalent of "Here I AM" is "Na'am". It's the same in Swahili. In Swahili culture when someone is called by their first name they drop everything they are doing and come running. At the same time they respond saying: "Na'am". This is especially true of an employee or a domestic servant at a house. The idea is that they are totally available and willing to be apart of whatever plan, agenda, etc.. the boss has in mind.

The same is true for us in our service of the Lord. Too many people come to God and say: "Let's make a deal God". "I'll serve you if..... I'll go if...... I'll share with that person if..... I'll make myself available if....." God is looking for people to stop trying to make a deal with Him; He longs to hear His 3 favorite words- "HERE I AM LORD".

In Hebrews 10 Jesus models this for us so beautifully. He comes to the Father and says: "HERE I AM" He never expects anything more from us than He has already modeled. He willingly gave His life on the cross. No one forced Him. He knew it was the will of God for Him to come to earth and redeem our fallen race. So He stood before the Father and spoke the Father's 3 favorite words- "HERE I AM- I've come to do your will". His willingness opened the way for us to be redeemed. His attitude of surrender opened the way for the purposes of God.

I want to be the kind of person whose life becomes a vehicle for the purposes of God to be accomplished. HERE I AM! How about you?

Fishing in the Sewer

Driving along the road near my house I was startled- not so much because of the usual traffic jam on the busy road, but because of a solitary fisherman.

He was totally oblivious to the hundreds of vehicles barely scraping by him on the side of the road. Leaning over the main drainage canal, he had his pole dangling in the water. I was shocked. The drainage water is nasty- full of garbage bags, plastic wrappers, chemical run-off from urbanization, human waste etc... African urbanization at its worst. Yet, none of this seemed to affect him in the least. Diligently he tried to hook some puny fish that wouldn't have filled up a cat.

As I considered how preposterous his efforts seemed, an even more ludicrous thought suddenly crossed my mind. Dar es Salaam is built on the edge of the Indian Ocean. A body of water that is teeming with fish. This fisherman was standing no more than 1/2 mile from the beach at his current location. Rather than enjoying the white sandy coast lines of Tanzania with the possibility of some wonderful catches like tuna, red snapper, etc... he is fishing for minnows in a polluted urban drainage ditch.

I don't know about you- but fishing in the sewer has never really been my forte.

Yet, it occurs to me that this is a brilliantly clear picture of where many Christians find themselves in 2010. For many, 2009 was difficult at best and they have contented themselves with fishing for God's purposes, plans, and direction in the murky waters of life. A drainage ditch congested by vehicles and plastic bags occupies their pursuit. Meanwhile, the Ocean of God's immeasurable grace, unfathomable goodness, and relentless love is nearby.

I recently preached a message with 3 points that brought out this idea. "NOW IS THE TIME"- to get over our disillusionment with other people, to reject the devil's lies, to let go of the hurts and wounds of the past, and to embrace the Lord's purposes and wonderful plans. "THIS IS THE PLACE"-to allow God to move in our lives, to give Him free reign to accomplish His will, to receive everything He has for us, to make a difference for God. "I AM THE ONE" - to do something for the Lord, to experience His grace and mercy, to touch other for Christ, to enjoy the Ocean of His presence!

I don't know about you- but I'm done fishing for minnows in Dar sewage water! I want the Ocean!