When Generators Go Boom

Power rationing has been affecting many people in Burundi over the last 4 months.  The electricity is cut at the most random times and returned at even more random moments in the day or night.   Burundians are increasingly turning to generators if they can afford them.   Traditionally, however, it is candles and paraffin lanterns.  

Recently, the power went off at a certain organization's offices late in the evening.  They were prepared as they had been relying on generator power over the past few months.   Two of workers were sent to check the level of fuel remaining in the generator.  There was only one small problem- how to see into the generator's fuel tank.  Following a good traditional practice one of the workers decided that candle light would do the trick quite nicely.  

The other objected muttering something about fire and fuel being somewhat dangerous.  "Nonsense" came his friends response. "I won't stick the candle into the tank...I'll just use its light to look INTO the tank".   Somewhat reluctant the other worker stood a few feet back.  

Apparently, it didn't take but two seconds as the fumes ignited and the whole generator erupted into flames.  The intense Burundian darkness was no longer quite so dark. The poor chap holding the candle received 3rd degree burns, but came away with a valuable lesson:  "Fire + Fuel= Explosion.” And explosions of light have a way of eliminating darkness.  They accomplished their goal- just not in the right way.

As I heard this story I started thinking about that verse in Hebrews: “Our God is a consuming fire”.  I think it was Jim Elliot who used to pray: “make me thy fuel oh flame of God”.  Another man mightily used of God used to say “if God had HIS way with us, He would make us torches of fire purifying the very darkness everywhere we went”  My prayer is that God would ignite my heart with His holy fire like never before to drive back the forces of darkness.  What about you?

The Casava Conservationists

Casava is bigger than life in Burundi.  In most neighboring countries a few people eat the root when nothing else in available.  But not in Burundi- here it is a prize delicacy! People sell it on the sides of the road at the bus stands in just about every imaginable form- cooked, baked, fermented, boiled, raw. 

Yep-  just about anything goes when it comes to Casava.  Casava for breakfast, casava with deep-fried fish, casava with spinach, casava with beans, and casava just for casava's sake simply so one can say that they ate casava that day with a good cup of Burundian tea! 

This week we purchased a piece of land to be used as the site for a new church building we hope to build next month.  The congregation of about 50 people have been meeting in one of the most dilapidated houses I have ever seen.  They are so excited about having their own piece of land with a steel tabernacle on it to be used as their sanctuary. 

We requested the members of the church to begin leveling the land so that we could lay the foundations.   There was great excitement to begin the work! As they started to clear the land- several irate Burundians suddenly showed up to cause trouble.   The  former watchman of the piece of land was the primary instigator.  Shouting and carrying on a scene he made it clear that no one was doing anything until the casava that had been planted was harvested! 

By the time I heard the story it had become quite a complicated scenario.  The former owner was screaming and yelling in good Burundian fashion in our head office that if we wanted to clear the casava we would have to pay his former watchman compensation money.  I was totally confused so I asked: "who owns the land now?"  "the church does of course!" came the response.  "err...help me in my state of ignorance and naivety....doesn't that mean we can do whatever we want with the land?"  "Oh no! Of course not, this is casava we're talking about!!"  

And so the battle for casava conservation continues to rage just south of the city on a piece of land that I think we own, but apparently can't touch.....so that a former disgruntled employee can have a share of his casava harvest.  

Absurd?  Oh yeah....totally absurd! (I'm still shaking my head on this one).   However, as I thought about it more, I was struck by this  former night watchman's courage and persistence to have a share in the casava harvest.   He knows what's valuable- at least in Burundi! And he's willing to do just about anything to make sure that it will be his. 

 And I have to ask myself: "am I that eager to have a share of the Lord's valuable harvest?"  We're dealing with something of far greater value than casava- ours is the business of men's souls.  Their eternal destiny is at stake.  John 4:24 comes to mind: "Do you not say 4 months more and then the harvest?" Jesus is trying to help his disciples understand what's really important.   A whole village is ready to receive Christ. It is the day of harvest.  My heart's cry today is "oh God give us passion for your harvest no matter the cost!" 

Hypothermia on the High Seas

This past week I traveled to the hottest inhabitable place on planet earth.  During the summer months the temperatures regularly soars above 55 (130 +) degrees Celsius.  Situated right along the coast of the Indian Ocean, the humidity is also really intense.  Fortunately, it was the cool season and the temperatures where only in the upper 30s (100 ish).  

The country is mostly desert.  However,  just off the coast of this mostly desolate country side is some of the most spectacular marine life I have ever seen.  Being an avid fan of nature, I went snorkeling.   The sight was almost inexplicable:  Hundreds of tropical colors.  Fish of every imaginable sizes and combinations.  Coral formations that stagger the imagination.  Sea turtles and octopus and all manner of strange sea-faring critters.  I became so engrossed in the underwater adventure that I lost track of time.  Minutes quickly turned into hours.    

Surprisingly, the ocean does not share the same intense heat as the arid land next to it.  On the other side of the reef, the water was down-right frigid!  And for those of you who know me....let's just say I don't exactly have a lot of body fat....  I knew I was in trouble when I lost feeling in my hands and started shaking underwater.  Quickly, I made my way back to the beach to try and warm up.  Upon leaving the water, my legs were trembling so much that I could hardly walk.  The sight must have been hysterical--  It's well over a 100 degrees, the sun is beating down, and I'm trembling uncontrollably as if in the Rocky mountains during a snow storm.  

I went to go sit in the searing heat of the vehicle that was parked in the direct sunlight.  After a good 15 minutes in the 130 degree heat of the "sauna" I was fine. My friends were laughing at me the whole time: "it's the first time we've seen anyone get hypothermia in the desert!" 

Moral of the story: Some things in life are worth paying the price for!  God's creation is breath-takingly stunning! So after I had warmed up- I went back out for another hour :-) It was so amazing!  Hypothermia or no hypothermia in the middle of the desert, I want to live with no regrets!  I couldn't imagine leaving that place without getting at least one more glimpse of God's incredible creation.  

 

The Nyanza Lac Special

The steady downpours everyday for the last several weeks have left the roads in a disastrous state. Mudslides are frequent and the pot-holes are like craters on the moon. We were travelling to a place called Nyabigina- the middle of the middle of nowhere. After bouncing, shaking, and rattling for several hours it was decided that we should spend the night in Nyanza Lac. Nyanza is the closest major urban center- a thriving metropolis of some 15,000 people on the shores of the lake.

Pastor Laurent found us a brand new hotel with 6 rooms. Three of them were already taken by some engineers working on the road- as to what they have actually accomplished in the last 3 months I can't even guess. But that is another story for another day. However, there were three rooms left- the exact number that we needed.

Upon entering my room, I was greeted by a friendly flock of Burundi's finest mosquitoes. They seemed excited to see me. I promptly emptied half of a can of bug-spray. I couldn't go back in the room for 3 hours due to the smell--but the flock was no more. Once the cloud of poison finally disapaited, I fell asleep. About 5 AM, I awoke due to the heat and decided to use the little restroom.

As I walked across the floor my foot landed 2 inches from the stinger of a scorpion who was not at all amused by my nocturnal visit. The spray had clearly taken effect as it violently trembled trying to get close enough for a sting For some reason, I decided against Mark 16's admonition to tread upon scorpions-- when barefoot and quickly found my way back to bed praying to God that it wouldn't follow me.

The next morning as I setteled the bill for all three rooms I was astonished. Room #1 10,000 FBU, Room #2 10,000 FBU, Room #3 7,000 FBU. Yet, all three rooms were identical . The thought flashed in my mind: "It's a special rate they are offering." Regular rooms are 10,000. However, if you make it through the night in the scorpion room then you get a 3,000 FBU discount. Ha! As I laughed I suddenly realized how serious the whole situation really had been. Two inches isn't much.

I have been studying Zecheriah. In chapter two the promise for the city of Jerusalem is that God will be a wall a fire around it and the glory within it. This promise is reiterated by David in Psalm 3- thou oh Lord are a shield for me. You are the glory and the lifter of my head. During the past few days I have sensed God's incredible protection over my life. There's nothing like knowing that God has your back. His presence surrounds us protecting us from the enemy. To all of those who faithfully pray for me and this little country- thank you!

Attack of the Termites

Sunday I visited Ruziba.  It's 15 minutes outside of Buja.  While there I had to use the restroom.  Upon entering the small outhouse in the middle of a field overlooking the lake, I happened to look down.  Probably- not the best idea in most Burundian outhouses.  You just never know what you are going to find.  

In this particular outhouse,  I noticed that the floor was constructed out of 4 or 5 wooden planks situated over a cavern several meters deep.  Nothing unusual there.  However, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I suddenly realized that the floor was alive.  By that I mean, Africa's favorite little tree devouring creature- the termite.  My first thought was:  "hmmm....those pesky little critters are everywhere. Amazing! " 

 This thought was short lived though as my mind finally realized the implications of termites in the planks that rest above a cavern of Burundian.....yeah, so you get the idea.  I remember a pastor telling me one time that most pit latrines in Burundi are 3 to 4  meters deep.  This one was mostly full.    So....that's a lot of.....yeah you're still tracking with me.   

My mind instantly envisioned the poor soul who happened to burst into the outhouse in a bit of an urgent moment only to plant their feet on a plank that could no longer support the visitor's weight.  Can you hear the creak as the board gives way? Followed instantly by the- Splash!  Meanwhile, all the little termites are probably cheering! "Yay- we did it boys- finally,  ate through that plank. He he-- yet another happy customer".   Score one more for the termites.   Anyways, for some strange reason I suddenly  no longer had any urge to continue using the little outhouse in Ruziba.  

As I thought about how close I had been to a baptismal moment in the outhouse, I suddenly realized that this is a frightening image of many peoples' lives.  There lives are on faulty foundations.  Over the past few months the Lord keeps bringing me back to the basics, the foundation of my walk with Him- time in His presence daily and reading the Word. 

 I know it is simplistic, but when I was little my mom taught me a song: "Read your bible, pray everyday and you will grow, grow, grow. Neglect your Bible forget to pray and you will....end up in pit latrine spiritually speaking" Okay, I made up the last little bit- I admit it....but I see a daily dose of the Word and Jesus' Presence as the only way to keep those pesky little "termites" out of our lives- doubt, anxiety, fear, so called "minor" sins, etc...   In and of themselves maybe not too terribly serious-- but over an extended period of time they have a tendency of eating through our spiritual foundations!  Above all else may we guard our hearts- for there is the source of our life.   

The Porcelain Potty in Kamenge

I was sitting in a dear pastor's house in Kamenge- a neighborhood outside of Buja.  As we were talking I suddenly realized that I needed to "help myself" as we say in Kirundi and Swahili.  Their church is located next to his house.  I excused myself and started walking outside the house to use the long-drop toilets behind the church building that I normally use in Kamenge. 

The pastor instantly objected insisting that I needed to use the toilet in his house.  I knew this was a great honor, but I was a little reluctant- primarily because I have been there frequently and didn't remember a functioning toilet in the house. 

I walked into the little room which has seen better days- much better days! The paint is totally worn off, the walls are now covered with a dark film that resembles a lurid mix of mildew and bacteria.  There is a concrete floor with fungus developing in certain spots.   The smell... or should I say stench..that would demand another post to describe.  

Much to my amazement right in the middle of the  infectious microbe-abounding atmosphere was a brand new porcelain toilet. I was so shocked I just stood there in amazement staring at the white wonder.  The smell of my surroundings quickly jarred me back to reality.

 Let it be said that there was- No toilet seat,  no toilet back, nor a tank to flush.  And as to how they empty thing....I shudder to think!  However, there it was all the same... the lower half of a new porcelain toilet brilliant and unmistakable in that filthy room! I walked out of that toilet room in amazement realizing that I had just witnessed something of a wonder. 

As I thought about the porcelain potty in Kamenge I learned a lesson.  Maybe it's a bit of a stretch: BUT- I want to be like that toilet! In a country stained by the foulish odors of sin, wreaking with the wretched stench of self, and permeated by the devious deception of the devil-I want to stand out.  I want to be a marvel.  My life a  wonder.  A testimony to the lost in this country.  Not because of me.  But because of HIM.  Because of HIS life-changing newness and freshness in my life. His cleansing POWER and PRESENCE that still "makes all things new!"

A Nap on the Parking Lot?

One week ago we decided to count the number of steel parts (pillars, perlins, trusses, etc...) we have here in Burundi.   The idea was to determine how many tabernacles  we could erect this year.  All went well for the first  hour or so.  As we were nearing the end of the counting process a 50 lb. pillar slipped and smashed the middle finger on my right hand inside the container where they are stored.   OUCH!!!! 

I screamed and promptly made for the exit to find something cold for the throbbing finger.  Cold is not an  easy concept in Burundi .  The sun was scorching over head.  The humidity was nearly smothering.    As I tried to soak my finger in the lukewarm water flowing from the tap the pain and the heat won the day.  I collapsed right on there on the church parking lot. 

As I was lying on the stony parking lot, two ladies from the church who were inside for a woman's prayer meeting happened to walk outside. The first turned to the second and said in Kirundi: "Oh Look Steve has decided to sleep on the parking lot."  The second realizing the absurdity of this statement in the 100 degree plus heat and intense sun overhead remarked: "He's not sleeping on the parking lot silly- he's become infected by sun malaria and is gravely ill"  In a semi-conscience state I started chuckling as I thought: "what in the world is sun malaria?"  

Both ladies continued sharing their uncanny insight as they approached me in my fallen state and said: "Steve it's not good to lie on the parking lot when it's so hot! You should move."  With that they turned around and went back inside.  I am convinced that they were genuinely trying to be helpful.  

While I sincerely appreciated their concern for my position on the baking parking lot- it seems to me that there was a  certain something missing to say the least.  What they said was true- Burundian parking lots are terrible places to take a siesta!   But it would seem that a helping hand would have been much appreciated.  As I thought about the incident later- I had to ask the question: How many times have I been guilty of telling others the truth without being willing to help them get up! What about you? God help us to be speakers of truth AND demonstrators of His  love!