The Road to Eldoret: Part 3

Sunday morning dawned upon Eldoret, finding us well rested and more prepared to take on the day that was before us. Eating a bit of leftover food from the night before and drinking perhaps a gallon of tea each, we set out for the church. Service began at 9:30, when we arrived, and we were met with more singing and rejoicing. Jackson had been called upon to lead the Sunday School portion and he did so, talking about forsaking fear and its effects. After he finished I suppose the regular service, as it was called, began. More singing came in which one of the ladies leading the procession began shaking violently. I am not certain what she was accomplishing but everyone seemed okay with it so I went along with things.

After a bit of singing the young children came in, singing songs that were distinctly Western. Their first selection was Soon and Very Soon We Are Going to See The King. I wondered if that was one they practiced because an English speaking fellow was coming to the church. Whatever the case, it was delightful to hear them all join in unison to sing a song that I have never before heard in Africa. Following them was more singing and more shaking and then the call for me to come and address the crowd.

Far more people had gathered than from the previous day as the number of fifteen had been left in the distance. With a packed room I began preaching on the imminent return of Jesus Christ and the need for urgency to complete His work among the church. I gave all I could, making sure my last time speaking with them was up to par. Jackson told me we would have the Sunday morning service and that was all. So I finished, ready for a bit of a break and maybe some time to see a bit more of Eldoret that I may know where I was.

The pastor stood and through a translator I understood lunch was coming and then we would reconvene for the last session. He said they would all be in anticipation until then to hear what I would close our time together with. Woops. I missed that somehow in the translation earlier or, in true African fashion, it just wasn’t mentioned. So we went to a lunch of more slaughtered chicken and I was thinking about what the Lord would have us talk about. In my mind a few things were bouncing around and I was getting more set to give it one more go.

When we came back after lunch the singing cranked back up and the shaking lady went into her antics once again. The people were getting more and more wound up and after about a half an hour I heard a great commotion behind me. Out of my periphery I saw this gal waving violently about and some ladies trying to get a hold of her. My immediate thought was that she was demon possessed, which would certainly change the course of the service as we would then need some sort of deliverance message. However, once again no one seemed to be worried so it appeared that her thrashing and tearing off through the chairs was also a scene of normalcy.

Rain had started its pitter patter outside and as we were winding down with worship it began gaining in strength. I was introduced once again, this time the PA system fighting with the loud clamor of the rain. By the time I stepped up front, the rain had turned into a roar upon the metal roof and it was all the one speaker could do to magnify my voice and the translators above its din. Nevertheless, I lit into preaching on the topic of spiritual armor and warfare in the kingdom.

No more than twenty minutes into the progression of speaking the power went out which means I lost both the light and the PA system. The black clouds did their job blocking out enough light that I couldn’t read the Bible in that dark hall and now it was me fighting with the rain’s yell. Fortunately the Lord birthed in me a rather loud mouth, which I was often chided over in my formative years. Moreover, He brought to my mind the remembrance of His Word so we were able to continue without skipping a beat. By 6:00 we finished our time there, having educated and exhorted the people as much as possible. The rain eventually surrendered and the power even came back on as we were leaving the church. The members were delightful and very kind in their regards and blessings.

Upon finishing we went back to Paris’ house for, you guessed it, more chai and some fellowship. Some opportunistic pastors cornered us in the house seeking money and several weeks of our time to spend in the area going to their churches. Unfortunately we had neither to give them and they left with seemingly frustrated looks on their faces. The entire time they were there, those three ducks that lived in the house were fighting under the couch. Occasionally one would bite me in the ankle whereby I would return his gesture with a kick in the head. I am still not sure if they were pets or being fattened up for a future meal. Either way they were not going to make it long if they continued their behavior.

The 9:00 hour rolled around and we boarded our bus, having one more cup of chai and bidding our new friends farewell. We had the same bus driver as we had on the way to Eldoret, who did not know the way nor how to avoid large potholes. However, by great fortune we had no drunk people harassing the passengers and we made it back in only seven hours. So, in less than 50 hours we had gone to Eldoret, held a revival and made it back to Nairobi in one piece. Heading back to our house at 4:30 in the morning a verse from 1 Peter 4:11 was coursing through my mind, “If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ.” I was overjoyed to be reminded we are doing the work of the Lord and with His energy, so I only play a small part in that equation. This was a good feeling to know that He did His work and I got to go along for the very quick but fulfilling ride!

The Road to Eldoret: Part 2

Having arrived in the great city of Eldoret at 6:00 am, I was somewhat weary. However, we had no time to sleep as we were soon met at the bus depot by Jackson’s cousin, Paris. She led us onto a matatu that dropped us close to her home where we would be spending most of our time when not at the church. Once dawn broke upon the land she took us for a quick tour of the slum area surrounding us, called Haruma. We came back to her house after observing the clear distinctions between that slum and the one in which we usually dwell. The slums there have far more room and even areas to have gardens that bring forth a fair amount of food.

Back at Paris’ house we drank what would become many cups of Kenyan chai, a staple to any day. One once told me he could go many days without eating without even skipping a beat, yet to miss a dose of chai was to send him to an immediate lethargic state. Whatever the case, it is not something to be overlooked. Many spoke less English than expected, so as they conversed I found myself slipping into punctuated periods of slumber. Then the waking statement came: time to go to the church.

The time was probably 10:30 and we walked about seven minutes away to a small corner building with a large megaphone looking speaker poking out of an open window. Inside fifteen or so believers gathered, singing to the fullness of their being. Certainly being the only white person there in the whole slum drew enough attention and we were paraded up to the front where several plastic chairs had been reserved for us. I was told I would be speaking that morning but I was unsure at what time or how long they desired, but first worship must run its full course. They sang, danced and praised their way into the heavenly throne room and then it was time for the message. We were introduced but I was able to gather that it still was not our time and then it became clear: the first speaker had to share his word; then it would be my time.

I will confess and be honest in saying that I fell asleep through the most part of the preacher’s diatribe. Naturally I would like to be able to admit that I have never found myself asleep during a service but after traveling over miles of harrowing and sleepless roads I just didn’t have it in me. Somehow I awoke towards the end of his message, the content of which I still don’t know. It was just in time to come to our feet and sing a bit more and then the microphone was handed to me. The moment of truth had come, was their any way I could somehow gather enough energy to tell these people something important from the Word of God?

After a brief prayer, inwardly pouring out all manner of desperation to overcome the flesh, I begin sharing on becoming a living sacrifice from Romans 12. The ideas going in my mind was preparing these people for the service of God there in Haruma. So we began with getting the power of God to them, with the goal of moving to getting the power of God through them and culminating with the urgency of God’s work in their midst. I remained awake during the time I was speaking which was certainly a blessing and led us to the hour of 2:00.

We broke for lunch that had been prepared by the ladies of the church. No doubt they had slaughtered a few chickens earlier that morning and they fed us quite well. Now, not only was I full but content and partnered with the level of fatigue, I was certain to fall asleep while standing on my two feet. Lunch brought a conversation predominantly in Swahili but I have learned that if you laugh when other people laugh it helps things to go a bit more smoothly. Perhaps some of those times I have been laughing at comments made at myself but I am none the wiser and I am sure they are entertained so everyone is still on good terms.

The post-lunch era brought more singing and dancing, leading up to session two, or maybe three; I can’t quite recall what they called it at that point. I began once again, this time teaching about the Holy Spirit’s arrival and His enabling of us to be ambassadors of Christ from 2 Corinthians 5. The people seemed to be with the idea or either the translator was doing damage control, repairing what I was saying, who is to be the wiser? Nevertheless, we finished around 6:00 and had just enough time to run to the bus depot so as to gather tickets for the next night’s trip out of there.

Fortunately we were not sleeping in Paris’ house as there would have scarcely been enough room for her, her husband and children if we were to have invaded. Plus there were three geese that slept in the house who I would have hated to tangle with in the middle of the night. Ergo, we took a side journey to the house of a fellow named Adam, where we were able to bed down for the night. He had a nice place, complete with a black and white television. He had placed some sort of blue-hued plastic sheet over the TV so it wasn’t really black and white but only various shades of blue.

All of that made no difference as I was ready to sleep and for a very long time. However, before sleep they demanded that we eat something. At that point food was a secondary need compared to sleep, but so as not to offend, I hung on to the waking hours long enough to eat a bit of stew. The moments following are not lodged into my memory but I know they culminated with me laying down my weary head. Slumber came quickly and I fell into the land of dreams and the sleepy passage of time.

The Road to Eldoret: Part 1

A dear friend here, Jackson Atsango, had been talking about venturing to Eldoret to do some ministry there. I wasn’t paying attention to the dates of the trip but realized I had only a day and a half after arriving back from Eburru to get things in order to go. I will be honest and confess that I did not have everything in readiness upon the time to depart, but the Lord was gracious in His dealings with us. Friday night, after teaching at the school, Jackson came by with the announcement that we would be leaving in ten minutes. I was only halfway packed so I threw in the remaining items, knowing not whether I would need them or not.

We hiked down to the matatu stage and jumped a van bound for the bus depot. Our bus was to leave at 10:00 pm but would be boarding at 9:30 pm. The matatu took us to our destination in downtown Nairobi and we arrived in ample time to board and get settled in. By great foresight, Jackson bought our bus tickets in advance and selected the front two seats of the left side of the bus, ensuring plenty of leg room and no chance of claustrophobic reactions. As we settled into our seats, the other passengers filed on, all conducting unknown business in our final destination of Eldoret.

Just prior to the bus pulling away, a fellow boarded the bus who was terribly hunched over, staring blankly into the rows of seats and drooling slightly. I was confused at his appearance and then it became evident that he was drunk beyond all proper definitions of the word. He was escorted to his seat by the bus conductor and I was wondering if he would pass out on the way to be seated. The bus left the depot with a jolt and we were on our way to a place that I had never dreamed I would go.

Around thirty minutes into our transit, I noticed a dark suited figure approaching in my periphery. The lights on the bus had been turned off but the passing headlights revealed the face to belong to that drunk fellow who nearly missed the bus. He began complaining in Swahili to my traveling companion and was redirected to the bus conductor. In asking Jackson what he said, he revealed that the man was saying he had no seat and in his drunken stupor thought that he was the bus conductor. Someone in the meantime the drunkard became unsatisfied and sat down in the aisle of the bus, refusing to move in an almost childlike posture of pouting.

The bus conductor was able to get him up and back to his seat, only for the same process to be repeated several more times over the next hour. I could not understand the heated conversation in Swahili other than the fact that if he didn’t shape up, they were going to leave him on the side of the road. As we neared Naivasha, the bus driver pulled over at a police check point, dismounted the vehicle and explained the situation to several policemen. A rather large Kenyan man entered the bus and began speaking with the drunk man who refused to leave the bus. After the policeman forced him out of the bus he became very humble and apologetic yet it was too late. They put him in the local jail for the night that he may become sober and find some transport the next day.

We had already lost one passenger on the trip and I wondered what other kind of nonsense would ensue during our trip there. The blackness of the night did not permit any views of the surrounding land other than the knowledge that it was vast and spacious. However, the headlights did a good job of illuminating the pothole filled road which the driver had a difficult time dodging. Due to the quality of the road and the elementary skill of the driver, sleep did not come which was a small problem as we were to begin ministry early in the morning. The time passed slowly but provided ample opportunity for thinking about life’s important questions, like what would happen if someone were to splice the DNA of a mosquito and an elephant, or what if a giraffe really did get a sore throat, what then? Anyhow, at 6:00 am on the nose we pulled into the bus depot in Eldoret. Little did I know the adventure that would be waiting around the corner.

The Eburru Sojourn: Day 5

Wednesday was the day many were looking forward to as we were promised an opportunity for hiking around the area. Our good friend Francis had been born and raised in ‘them thar hills’ and was an expert guide. We set out at 9:00 to visit one of the nine volcano craters that dotted the slopes of Eburru’s mountain. Just as always, travel down the road to the crater was moderately harrowing, causing my life to flash before my eyes only a half a dozen times during this particular transit.

Once safely arriving, we made our descent to the interior of the crater, finding acres of flowers and unique African plants. On the opposite slope of the crater we saw several indigenous colobus monkeys jumping from tree to tree. It is always a delight to see an animal in its natural habitat and this time the area provided for a better viewing of the monkeys than even the NC Zoo can match.

As we reached the top of the rim in our departure, our guide was no where to be found. A few minutes passed and I heard his voice calling from an incalculable distance within the forest. A brief walk carried Brandon and I into a clearing where Francis stood with his shirt off amidst a massive steam vent. We quickly saw the benefit in this and lost our shirts, bathing in the earth-generated steam. Francis told us we will never get sick due to the strength gained from the steam vent and it indeed proved to be healthy for the skin and the sinuses. Upon leaving and talking it over with Brandon, I think we actually found something akin to the fountain of youth rather than an ordinary steam vent. However, we have decided to keep the location secret and just between us.

In leaving the volcano’s crater, we journeyed up the highest peak which promised a great view of the Rift Valley. As we reached the top we were in no way disappointed as we could see for miles and miles in every direction. Some large caves caught our eye and it only took one mention of them for Francis to go bounding down the slopes, leading us to the caves. The particular cave we entered was about fifteen or twenty feet deep, opening up into a room spacious enough for a good card game. However, since good Christians don’t play cards we stood there and talked for a bit and came back out. We were told that a certain species of spitting cobras like the caves as they are fairly warm from excess geothermal energy. Not wanting to meet one in a tight place, we forsook the caving and came back to the camp.

We packed up in a relatively speedy fashion and hit the road with able vehicles and a promising journey back to the slums. The travel went well and without any major glitches, leaving us arriving back right at 5:00, the time I am to be in class at the Bible College. Parking the vehicle I quickly gathered my books and left to go teach, making it just before the students began to despair over my absence. All in all the time in Eburru was a delight and I have no doubt that we will soon return.

The Eburru Sojourn: Day 4

Tuesday dawned bright and early and our presence on the construction site was requested earlier than we had planned. Mary Njenga, a nurse, has long been wanting to open a clinic and dispensary there in Eburru. However, money and resources have been scarce until the present. They had just received enough cement and blocks to begin the construction of a permanent facility, for which they were most pleased. Five Kenyans and a team of green Americans set out to work together to pour the footings of this 20 by 40 foot building.

Naturally everything was done by hand: the footings had been previously dug, the rocks hauled in, the cement carried over and water (which was to come) was all to be combined. The process was not at all explained to us and random shouts in Kikuyu were all we had to go on. However, we learned the immediate need for water and Brandon and I were quickly assigned to the water detail. We were responsible for hauling the water 200 yards from the tank to the site. This was a continual process throughout the entirety of the morning. Once the water arrived, they begin mixing all the contents: rocks, cement, sand and water, directly on the ground, shoveling them into wheelbarrows for transport to the footings.

This process continued over and over until we neared completion near lunch time. Lunch promised to be especially exciting as it had arrived on a bicycle the day before. The work went on without a hitch and finished with excitement on the part of both Kenyans and Americans. We all posed for one of those “look what we just did together” type photos just inside the newly poured footing and gathered our tools for lunch at the main mud hall.

The previous night, just before sundown, a man came riding up to camp with a sheep on the back of his bicycle. People there can haul all manner of things on their bicycles and this sheep was certainly no exception. The rider dismounted the sheep from the back, tied a rope around the sheep’s leg and tied the other end to a tree. Everyone looked at each other a bit strangely, but in my mind I already knew: a meal had just arrived. The morning of the construction, just prior to the work’s beginning, the sheep was untied and led to the back of the camp.

Curiosity fueled the presence of some while sheer grotesque horror drew the others. I suppose many had never seen an animal slaughtered before and the process came swift and effectively. Our friend and resident handy man had slaughtered over a thousand prior to this one, by his own confession, so he worked with precision and speed. The sheep was slaughtered, cut up and put in a stew before we knew it and by lunch time it was to be ready. Once lunch came around, several had made the claim that they would eat no lunch as they had seen it walking around the day before.

I have to admit the sheep was good. Perhaps I shall even go so far as to say that I liked it better on the plate than standing around making all kinds of guttural noises during the night. Either way he was met with mixed reactions. Brandon named the sheep and wrote a song about him while others avoided the creature all together. We had one team member who has not only sworn off of sheep but eating meat in general. I suppose a hungry enough appetite will cure any previous vows of vegetarian behavior.

After lunch we were given a brief reprieve before surprised with a spontaneous open air service. Instead of much rest, I found myself summoned by some workers in the field who were cutting the tall weeds with machete-like contraptions. I began helping them as fast as my arms could slash the field until I saw the rat’s nests nestled in the fallen stalks of old corn. Adequately distracted, I began digging up their nests and hunting for the voracious ‘spoilers of crops’ as the residents called them. Wielding a shovel, I marched through the hacked up weeds hunting for rats and killed several as the afternoon progressed on. I like to think that word had already reached that far of our rat exploits here in the slums but that may be hopeful thinking.

Once the rat hunting had reached an end it was time for the open air service. Not more than ten minutes down the road was a small convening area where many villagers came to trade and buy goods. Although the number was significantly less that afternoon than is usually there, we sang, acted and preached the Gospel in as many ways as possible. The night fell on us quickly and we had to leave earlier than we thought, but all in all, many were blessed even though conversions were not counted very high.

The Eburru Sojourn: Day 3

As Monday dawned, we were preparing to go door-to-door to minister to the people that lived around the Eburru area. Due to the type of setting we were not able to walk and cover enough ground, so we all jumped in the van for transportation to our targeted sites. The Njenga’s had planted some corn which yielded a suitable harvest. They had the corn in large bags we were taking with us in order to pass out some food along with the message of the Gospel. We as a team had bought some beans that we took there for the same purpose, in easing the physical hunger of the people there.

We drove along a moderately well traveled road, passing out food on the way and sharing the Gospel with many at one time when the opportunity provided itself. After the corn and beans had been exhausted, we set out on foot to go pray with those in need and share the Gospel to the unknowing. In our first house we found a mother concerned over her child who had a badly infected cut. We prayed first for the child, believing God to restore the little one’s health as he was running a bad fever. Then in communicating with the mother through a translator, I learned that she had not been to church in nine years.

She had previously gone to a church in the area when one of the members had mistreated her in some way. As a result she was bent on never returning and had kept her word. The conversation went on and we learned she was not saved, in addition a lady nearby was overhearing our talk and she came in to listen. She too was unsaved and we rejoiced to be able to lead them both in the prayer of salvation. We told them the church we were working with and gave her contacts and directions that she may begin fellowshipping there.

After this, we found a few fellows working in the field, who we also shared the Gospel with. They said they believed in God but saw no great hurry to be saved. I exhorted them with the Word and did everything I could think of in order to spur them onward toward a decision and to relate the urgency of the message we carried. They didn’t get saved then but if the Holy Ghost continued to work on them as He was doing, it would not have been long after when they would have felt strong conviction.

The door-to-door time, although short, was quite a blessing as several were saved in other groups as well and a good opportunity to distribute some much needed food. We returned to the camp for just long enough to eat lunch and then left to minister at the school. The school in the area was a fair distance from where we were and a terrible road stood between us and them. However, by the grace of the Lord (which now I know is the only thing that fuels our vehicles) we safely arrived.

The children at the school often came from long distances away, walking over an hour to attend classes in the morning and making the same journey back at night. Nevertheless, the teachers were qualified and had a passion for the children there. We led a general group time and then split them into classes in order to minister to them one on one. As the time was drawing nigh to end, one class remained in session and we wondered why the delay in ending as the students had to be leaving to go home. I was then informed that some students in the class were not saved and at that moment three were in process of surrendering their lives to Jesus Christ. Hallelujah for the faith of a child!

The day ended well, with us safely leaving the school and arriving back to the camp. We ate supper and laid down, ready for the construction that was to be waiting for us the following day…

The Eburru Sojourn: Day 2

The night was still heavily upon us, yet Brandon and I desired to see the sunrise and perhaps the elusive peaks of Mount Kenya, said to be visible in the early morning hours when the sky was clear. Brandon set his watch for 5:30 and we rose to await the dawn and the scenes that it brought with it. Unfortunately the sun did not rise until about 6:30 but we had no way of knowing with equally tall mountains surrounding us. Moreover, and far more disappointing, was the fact that the morsel of information regarding Mount Kenya being seen over the Aberdares was completely false. No ounce of truth remained in that statement, and we were crushed to learn of its falsehood.

Undaunted by the patient sunrise and lies about Mount Kenya, we set out for church, at the new location because of the recently purchased plot of land. Our whole team rolled up to their church tent to find some other Western people there, from the US, Canada and Holland of all places. They had ventured there from the nearby Kijabe mission base and partnered with Steve Njenga from time to time at the Eburru Church.

The congregation seemed to have grown since we were last there, now reaching over 350 members. The church started only a couple of years ago and had five people attending the first meeting. Obviously Steve is being used mightily by the Lord and could teach his own classes about church growth and ministering to God’s people. The Sunday requirements were certainly long as we were there at 8:30 until around 3:00. However, we saw many people and joined in their passionate worship of the Lord.

Sunday afternoon was free by way of scheduled tasks but we spent some time fellowshipping with others and exploring. Brandon and I hiked up Eburru’s tallest peak, only to be thwarted by the thick scrub encircling the top and the deep lava caves that appeared at random. For the sake of remaining alive and uninjured, as well as quickly losing daylight, we gave up the quest for the top for the day. Night fell with an equally grand display of the sky and an even colder temperature. We slept well in our dust free huts and dream filled slumber.

The Eburru Sojourn: Day 1

We had previously visited Eburru back in November, but were there only for a couple of days, not nearly long enough to see all that the place had to offer. Therefore, our knowledge was limited and our anticipation in discovering more about the strange place called Eburru fueled our onward progress. We left on Saturday morning around 10:00, fully loaded in two vans, as one would not have come close to carrying our team, supplies and donated articles of clothing and medicine to leave there at the camp.

Our main concern regarding the trip happened to land upon the vans that are unpredictable and terribly problematic, both a dangerous combination. Nevertheless, we now know they don’t run on diesel fuel as much as they run on a double dose of God’s grace. After bathing the vans in much prayer as well as our team, we set out on what was a three and a half hour journey to this remote area of Eburru.

Upon arrival we were greeted warmly and it truly was good to be back in such a delightful area. We arrived at coming to this place through our good friend Pastor Steve Njenga. He of course greeted us with excitement and we began to settle in to three of the five huts that comprised the camp, a five star establishment when juxtaposed with any other alternatives. The mud huts had been plastered with cement since we were last there as well as acquiring concrete floors. This certainly kept the dust calmed down and gave us an optimal sleeping environment.

After getting settled in, the fellows led a Bible study for the men while I tried to work on the van’s battery connections as well as faulty door handles. These issues did not delay us but certainly were a pain to deal with in their presence. I was only moderately successful, while on the other hand, the men’s study went wonderfully well. The later afternoon hours were free as our time continued to be arranged and planned for.

As the night fell upon us we ate a great meal and found ourselves getting increasingly cold. The elevation there is the highest we have yet been, as it is 9,300 at its peak. The elevation, combined with the blackness that comes at night, turned the temperatures very cold. I was ill prepared for any such coldness but knew that the colder it was the earlier bedtime would be. This didn’t bother me in the least. The nighttime clouds began to clear and roll back revealing a sky filled with stars that are unable to be viewed here in Kibera. With that pleasant scene, we drifted off into the land of slumber, anticipating what Sunday should hold.

I am always excited to go to a new church to see the various avenues of worship and congregating that different areas make use of. This past Sunday was one such day that I was able to attend a new church in an area that I had not yet been. Pastor Timothy and I were asked, although for different days, to come and speak at a church in Dagoretti. The pastor who invited us is a student at the African Bible College which explains the connection for the preaching appointment. Being efficient, Pastor Timothy said we should go together and the church would get a double dose of “visitors” and potential speakers. We left out around 10:20 Sunday morning and after a forty minute, pothole marked journey, we arrived at the church.

The church was a rather large structure, housing up to 300 people on a good Sunday. I suppose the numbers was slightly less than that but still a good strong body of believers who we found in full swing of worship when we arrived. The pastor wasted no time in introducing us and called up Pastor Timothy first. He said a few words and then called me up to share a few words. I did so and then he said he thought it would be a good idea if I were to bring the message. Fortunately, after such a situation seems to repeat itself, I was ready for his “delegation.” With that being the case, I shared a bit about the readying of the body of Christ for the soon coming of the Lord and the need to make the most of every opportunity.

After the preaching ceased, Pastor Timothy was approached by a woman who needed prayer. I thought that she was in bondage in some way or perhaps ill. They talked for about a half an hour and I later learned that she was asking for prayer for a husband. That was quite the unusual request in an African church but a legitimate one I suppose. When he finished speaking with her we were caught away to a small building nearby that housed tremendous amounts of food. They fed us tremendously well with a meal consisting of beans, rice, potatoes and more chapati than anyone could eat in a day. A cat belonging to someone was roaming the area looking for a dropped morsel as we were eating but having been dissuaded, fell asleep in the corner.

We sat and talked for sometime about the church, the pastor’s vision, the faithful members and general ecclesiological sort of banter. Just as we had finished the meal, the pastor said he was going to usher us back to the church as they were preparing to embark on a two hour fund raising service. By great fortune, Pastor Timothy told him there was no need for us to sit through the service as we already knew what donation we would make to the church. At that we were released to leave in order to make it back home by dark. What a day it was, a day that truly was a blessing as I was once again able to see another local body of believers join the global body of Christ in worship and adoration of the King of Kings! Amen!

Our time here has been terribly busy as of late, which is most clearly displayed at my poor efforts in updating this page. However, things are returning to a somewhat normal schedule that does not involve fighting so many fires and solving unexpected problems. This past week was excellent as we began a new course at the African Bible College. I think the potential pastors will thoroughly enjoy this new course: Bible Doctrine Survey. If nothing else, they like discussing and will enjoy talking about lofty concepts.

On Friday mornings we are learning about the book of Revelation. I have read many books on the matter as I passed through a class on Revelation during seminary. However, it never becomes routine and holds great hope amidst the tribulation and destruction of the earth. I think above anything, the imminent return of the Lord encourages His people not to waste a single moment in completing the work He has assigned, for our time has now grown short.

Just Tuesday night I dreamt of the rapture once again. I was outside and saw a couple of rainbows side by side. Thinking it a bit strange, I turned to ask if the fellow beside me saw the same thing. When I looked I found him gazing heavenward as well. Glancing back I saw that the two rainbows had become many and then that glorious trump resounded, calling the church home. Beams of light fell from heaven and snatched away the believers on that field. Who knows, one day soon this very well could take place.

Yesterday I was feeling a bit weary as I must have consumed something which robbed me of all energy, vigor and vim. However, today I have been raised from the depths of fatigue and in due time for I was on deck for preaching. Today I went to the church at Toi Market, a daughter church of my own here in Kibera. I have known the pastor, Humphrey Jamwaka, for some time as well as his family. In lieu of so many opportunities and directions being pulled I had not yet gotten to visit his church until this day. I found it to be a delightful place and certainly full of many who are passionate about their walk with the Lord.

I preached on the life of Joseph and the supernatural positions our God took him. I couldn’t help but get excited watching the seemingly hopeless journey he was on and yet the powerful and swift manner God raised him to second in command over Egypt. This was certainly impossible in the natural as Joseph was a Hebrew. The Egyptians would not even eat with a Hebrew, let alone have one as a leader of any kind. However, that is just like the Lord, to do the impossible.

As I was preaching in the front of that small, shack-like building, I noticed a flash of fur in the corner of the roof. Later I learned that I was being surrounded by scrambling rats on the top of the walls. I think this is a purposeful and disrespectful action from the world of rodents as they, in some fashion, attempt to pay me back for the deaths of their relatives. However, I was not dissuaded and the work of the Lord continued. They shall ne’er be found in our homes OR more important still, standing in the way of preaching the Gospel.