Tea for Two

I was sliding my tablet out of the way to reach my fresh cup of hot tea when in one fell swoop the tablet skidded and overturned my cup, rippled over my Bible study notes, splashed my tablet and doused my keyboard. 

A wave of hot fluid was streaming across half the dining table and would soon reach George's computer and paperwork. Quick! Think fast on your feet! I shook the liquid from the keyboard and passed it to George. 

He sprinted outside to wave it in the wind. I grabbed a nearby handful of dinner napkins to divert the spill away from George's computer. Zip, I swooped to the kitchen and back with a towel. Then, a quick mopping of my tablet's screen and the back of George's computer case made everything on the dining table right. 

One minute after the event, no one would have guessed the great spill had taken place, except George and I both felt we had done half an hour of aerobics. 

Little Talandila

We hadn't worked in that village long enough to know who everyone was, so when one of the women who attended Phyllis' workshops would be gone for two or more weeks at a time, we were hardly aware of the fact. Her husband would sometimes be gone for a week or more as well. It was only one Saturday afternoon, a few months ago, when he asked us for a ride to Zomba Central Hospital that we learned their small son was very ill, and being treated there.

We were relieved to see them a couple weeks later, and to find out he was doing much better. However, when we were out there this Monday, and saw he was lying on a blanket in their yard, and with great muscle pain in his legs, and other parts of his body also, we began to inquire a little deeper. They explained that this was a recurring problem since shortly after he was born, but that the doctors at the hospital couldn't discover what was wrong.

We offered to take him to a local private clinic to at least get him some relief for the pain and swelling, but also to see if they could diagnose the problem. The doctor massaged his legs with some sort of ligament oil, and gave him pain medication. I asked him to prescribe some calcium also, as a deficiency could cause his legs to cramp. Off we went, nowhere closer to a diagnosis than when we had walked in. When we arrived back in the village, still not satisfied, I offered to take him to Phyllis' and my doctor on Thursday, which was to be our next free day. His mother was quite grateful for the offer.

So, yesterday morning, we picked up little Talandila, and his father in hopes of getting to the root of this chronic condition. Within less than two hours, and after a number of blood and other tests, we had a diagnosis. It was Sickle Cell Disease, a very serious, but treatable genetic blood disorder. By early afternoon, they had given him a vitamin injection, and placed him on an IV drip, as he was both anemic, and quite dehydrated. He was to be kept at least overnight.

By this time his mother was with him, as his father needed to get to his job as a night watchman at a roadside lumber dealer. We returned home to prepare them both dinner as none of the hospitals, either government or private, provide meals. We had Angellah, Phyllis assistant prepare a traditional Malawian meal to make them feel more at home. By that time Talandila was quite tired, and settling in well, as he had lost much sleep from all the pain over the previous several days.

I spent several hours last night researching online, whatever I could about its prognosis and treatments. I was encouraged to learn there was much we could do nutritionally, along with some tips on controlling his environment, such as keeping him warm, and getting him a mosquito net. When we sat in the doctor's office as Talandila was being released today, we shared notes with one another. He appeared to be quite surprised we had learned so much overnight. I am reminded what an amazing tool this internet is for either good or evil.

Before taking them back to their village this afternoon, we stopped by town to purchase him a bed net, a heavy wool blanket, some shoes, a jacket, and a couple other items, all to help him stay warm and healthy. We'll be ordering some specific vitamins, and other supplements our team of volunteers can bring with them when they arrive in three weeks. These were. recommended through the research I was able to do last night.

All this in less than thirty six hours! Thank you Jesus for your compassion, and your great wisdom.

Winter's Chill

Although overnight temperatures had dropped into the 40s and piercing wind gusts were sweeping through the village, undeterred, 56 women gathered for our Saturday morning Discovery Bible Study. It was the coldest day of this winter season.  

The women had no coats or jackets to brace themselves against the chill, and almost without exception, they were barefoot. Each woman had only a ntenja, a  two meter length of cotton cloth covering her outer garments or draped over her head. Mothers with young children wrapped them inside this garment with only their faces peering out. No one was complaining.

Before the children's class began, a group of them, barefoot and dressed in tattered summer shorts and shirts, were huddling around a small fire of maize stalks along the edge of an open field, trying to get warm. In a class of about 45 children, none of them were wearing shoes. 

So much need, and so many opportunities to show the love of Jesus.

Down by the River Farming God's Way

Because Lydia, a new believer, is our friend, her community warmly welcomed us, so today was our first opportunity to teach them Farming God's Way vegetable gardening.

Angellah taught them  the importance of living by Farming God's Way principles: to compete their work on time, at high standards, with no waste, and with joy. They learned that living and farming by these principles honors God and God will bless those who honor Him.  We were very pleased that they asked very good, thoughtful questions. 

The first half of the class was instruction. They learned that when properly prepared a local native plant, Blackjack, makes a good pesticide which can safely be used on their vegetables.  

The second half of the class took place by a river some distance away,  in Lydia's prepared field. There, everyone had hands-on opportunities to apply and practice what they had learned.  Raised beds were  measured and prepared. On these, mustard greens, Chinese cabbage, onions, and red beans were planted. 

Everyone participated in clearing, measuring, planting, and watering.  Then, after the field work was completed, Angellah encouraged them to pray that God would bless them. They turned to me and asked me to pray for them, so I prayed in Jesus' name that God would bless them and give them success as they seek to honor Him with their farming. 

They were a great class. The seventeen men and women were very attentive and stayed engaged during the four and a half hour class. At the conclusion of the class, we asked them if they are interested in learning more about Farming God's Way.  They eagerly said they are, so our next class is to take place in June. That class will focus on how to make  fertilizer by using large-scale composting.  

God opened the door for us to teach in this community. We are eager to use this opportunity to share the love of God and to make friends and meet needs in the community. We are believing that God will use us there for the advancement of the Gospel. 

New Shoes for Lydia

Last week, after  searching several shops in the market, we found support shoes for our friend, Lydia, who has some disability in one of her legs, making it difficult for her to walk.  She had a pair of shoes and a brace, but they were so badly worn that they no longer gave her support. We made arrangements with Lydia to take her with her daughter accompanying her to see an orthopedic doctor at the hospital.

But when we arrived there on Friday, we were disappointed to hear that the doctor wasn't there and would not be in all day. The nurse instructed us to come back on Monday. I asked, "Will the doctor definitely be in on Monday? And will Lydia be fitted then?" The nurse answered affirmatively. Assured, we told the nurse that we would be back on Monday.

The anticipated day finally arrived, so, early this morning, George and I drove out to the village and  brought them to the hospital to get Lydia's shiny new shoes fitted with a brace that will help her walk. This was our second long journey with her to the hospital, so we were praying that she would be served today. 

 But, when the double doors to the orthopedic ward flung open, we saw the small room was crowded with about 25 mothers with their physically and mentally disabled children, all seated on the floor, waiting for the children to be taken in one by one for physical therapy.  There was hardly room for the door to close behind me.

The same nurse we saw on Friday met me at the door. After formal greetings, she said, "As you can see that there are many people here today for therapy, and we are very busy. Just sit down and wait." I answered, "No. I am just fine standing here. How soon will the doctor see Lydia?" She responded, "You can leave the shoes with us, then you can call to find out if the shoes are ready. When they are ready, you can come and pick them up."  That didn't seem logical to me, so I said, "How can you fit them if Lydia is not here to be fitted? She needs to be here so the doctor can fit the brace to her."  

One man  (I am guessing one of the therapists) who had been sitting on a motorcycle (don't ask me)  in the corner of the room joined the conversation. He got up, looked sternly at me, and said, "What can we do for you (pause) people?"  "I am not the one with the need," I responded. "Lydia is the one in need. She came here to get her brace fitted,"  

Stretching his hands toward Lydia, he said,  "Let me see the shoes." As he rolled the shoes over in his hands he said, "Many times I see shoes with soft soles, but these are fine shoes. They will do. We will call you when they are ready."  

That was my signal that the therapist intended to do something for Lydia today, and in my heart, I was thanking God for giving us favor. I then turned to Lydia's daughter and said, "You have our phone number, right? Ok. When the shoes are fitted, just call us, and we will come." The arrangement was made. I thanked the nurse and the therapist, and before any further obfuscation, I left. 

After about 3 1/2 hours, the anticipated call finally came, and we drove to the hospital. Just as we rolled to a stop in the parking lot, George saw her at a distance in the rearview mirror, walking toward us. I asked, "Does she have on the new shoes? Is she walking better?' George affirmed, "Yes! Those are the new shoes!"  Then suddenly, she was standing beside the truck. I have never seen her look so happy. Her eyes were sparkling, and her whole face was smiling as she said, "I am now beautiful!"  What an amazing thing to say!  "Yes, you are beautiful," I told her, "But you were beautiful before. I am so happy for you!" 

I realized how much this small kindness meant to her. Although she never said anything about being ashamed of the old, worn shoes and brace, this expression of God's love made her feel beautiful.  Now, how much is that worth? Priceless.

Get Out the Vote

I am now convinced that by comparison, there is nothing very interesting, creative, or exciting about American politics, and compared to political elections in Malawi, American elections are BO-RING!   In the US over time many people become rather cynical and begin to see both the politicians and the process as all same-same. That is probably why many people choose to snooze through Election Day.

Some in the US complain that they dislike the two major candidates and  feel as if they are choosing between bad and worse.  Not having a choice is certainly not an issue here in Malawi.  When I say Malawi is a multiparty democracy, I mean multi-party. I recently read that there are 46 political parties. Most of them are extremely low budget and don't stand a chance of winning an election. Many of their presidential candidates probably would not be recognized by the majority of citizens, and practically no one could tell you the platform for most of these parties. I believe many of these contenders hope to gain enough attention and votes to find a position in the winning party after the election. 

Of all 46 parties, there are only a few well recognized, serious contenders. The ruling People's Party (PP) colors are orange and black, and their symbol is a lock and key. The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) colors are blue and black, and their symbol is three ears of corn. The United Democratic Front (UDF) colors are yellow and green, and their symbol is a pair of clasped hands. The Malawi Congress Party (MCP) colors are red, black, green, and white, and their symbol is a rooster. 

Malawians only get to vote every 5 years, and virtually everyone counts that as one of their cherished rights.  So, over the past year, and increasingly over the past 6 months or so, Malawi has been buzzing with excitement about the May 20 presidential and parliamentary elections.  

Everyone is talking about it, and displays of party affiliation are everywhere. It is impossible to not notice. Unlike US politics, in which candidates count on outspending one another with billboards and TV ads and most people don't let their political views be publicly known, politics here is propelled primarily by grassroots community activism, and evidence of that is everywhere. Instead of posting yard signs, many people proudly wear their party's colors. 

Each political party prints beautiful, specially designed cloth, usually bearing the candidate's image and their party's logo. In many places, these are used as banners above major roads and intersections. They are also used as flags. Party flags are furled above little shops along rural roads and above stores in the city. Hundreds of them are now hanging from light poles and bamboo poles and  even high in trees along the roads into Zomba.  

Many tailors turn this colorful cloth into beautiful women's skirts, hats, and dresses as well as men's shirts. Along rural roads we often see throngs of women adorned in beautiful political statement clothing. Ahead of our vehicle may be a sea of party affiliated blue, yellow, orange, or some other party color, as people walk long distances to attend rallies, which are usually staged in soccer fields.  There is no need to ask how they plan to vote or even where they are going, because they are proudly wearing their political preference. In addition to all of this display of party affiliation, party teeshirts and hats are also very popular, and candidates often distribute these at these large party rallies. These events include speeches as well as much singing and dancing. 

To take their positions to the people who have no access to printed material, politicians mount huge speakers to their vehicle's roof and cover the hood as well as side and back windows with posters and party banners. Then they drive through rural communities loudly playing popular music, which, of course, attracts a crowd. 

Often, people pour out of their houses and into the road and begin to dance, following along as the vehicle moves forward.  The vehicle stops from time to time to gather a crowd, pass out fliers and make speeches.  We recently saw a candidate standing in the back of a pickup holding up a lightbulb as she moved through Zomba. Evidently, the theme of her campaign for district council is "I have the bright ideas."  

So, this Tuesday, May 20 is Election Day.  Most people take this very seriously, and they have made great efforts to be informed,  as informed as they can be.  Rural people are sometimes persuaded by promises of development: roads, electricity, water, so when rural citizens are notified that a political candidate will be in the area, within reason, they will walk there to hear them speak about these things and to get the freebies, mere trinkets, they are passing out. 

Once every five years, rural people feel as if their leaders are really interested in them, and being heard is very important to Malawians.  So, voters here don't sit out elections. In fact, voter turnout was an amazing 104% in their last presidential election in 2009.  Hmmm??? I am not sure how that compares to recent US elections. 

The Landlord, the Plumber, and the Leaky Geezer

For those who don't know, in March, a major leak occurred at our water heater, or as they call it here, geezer, which is located in our attic. Water poured through and collapsed our bathroom ceiling, streamed down the hallway, and flooded our living room. This occurred just before a team of volunteers was coming to help us with our work. We knew we had to get this problem solved, and soon. 

We called the landlord, and the landlord sent the plumber, who came, looked at the problem and asked for a plastic bag. Well, ok. He turned off the water, drained the tank, and used a strip of the plastic bag to wrap the threads on the leaking water line. That held for a while, but after the team left, we began to notice water again dripping down the bathroom wall. 

 Again, we called the landlord, who this time brought the plumber. Although he didn't tell us his solution, with the blessing and encouragement of the landlord the plumber climbed into the attic, turned down the temperature on the geezer, came down and reported, "We have the problem solved and have stopped the leak."  George and I found out about the temperature reset later, when it was time to take our showers. Brrr! 

Not that they are related, what followed next was a week of flu for each of us. Neither of us felt like seeing the plumber during those days. So, although the water from the geezer went from hot to tepid, the lines continued to slowly leak, and the water continued to drip, drip, drip from the ceiling and drain down the walls. Repairing the leak would have to wait until we were feeling better. 

So, yesterday we called the plumber, and he and the landlord came out this morning. This time, the plumber was certain that he had a sure solution. Seeming rather pleased with himself, he walked us around the house to an alcove near the driveway. Then he said, "I know how to fix your leaking geezer problem. The leaking geezer damages your ceiling, so, I will move it outside, here on this side of the house. When the geezer is outside, the water can go down the drain, so a little leak will be no problem."  I wasn't quite sure how to respond. Incredulous, I answered, "Uh. No. We will not move the geezer outside, and we will not have a leaking problem, not even a little one. Moving the geezer outside is not an option and having a leaky geezer is not an option. Uh, ok?"

Village Clinic Run

Today was clinic day for the villages. Each week when we drive into the villages, we anticipate seeing many sick people waiting for us to take them to the clinic. We always have to choose between the sick and the sicker, those in pain and those in greater pain. It is not easy.  

After we listened to their pleas and sorted it out a bit, we determined that nine of those people really needed to be taken to the doctor, but our vehicle would hold no more than eight more passengers. After the final prioritizing, the seven patients who came with us were suffering from a broad array of illnesses, including high blood pressure, HIV-AIDS, heart problems, an infected foot, measles, ulcerated sores on the legs and chest, and paralysis.  The final seat was reserved for the sister/ caregiver who came to attend the woman with paralysis.  

Regrettably, several others who were waiting for us had to be left behind, including a woman very ill with malaria, a child with malnutrition, a woman with a toothache, and a man with undiagnosed general body pain. The woman with malaria and the man with body pain went to the clinic just last week, so we left them behind and took their medical books with us. The doctor will generally send medicines to those left behind if we can show him a record of their recent diagnosis. After everyone was seen, I asked for vitamins for the malnourished child, and the doctor was happy to prescribe those. 

All of the patients were seen, but the only one who did not receive medications or a satisfying answer was the woman with paralysis. The clinic did not have the equipment to help her, so she was referred to the general hospital. 

The problem was, the woman was terrified of going to the hospital and was very resistant. Her sister/caregiver pleaded with us to support her in her decision to take her sister anyway. George and I stayed out of the conflict, but our whole van full of patients began to say, "Yes! Just like the doctor said, you must go to the hospital!"  

So we delivered them to the hospital.  We found a wheelchair and put her into it, and wheeled her into the waiting area.  Hospitals here do not provide food for patients, so we gave the caregiver enough quacha to buy food for her and her sister for several days. We also gave her a phone number where she could reach us and let us know how her sister's treatment is going and when she will be dismissed. While those were getting settled, I distributed sandwiches, water, and bananas to all. 

When lunch was over, we were all ready to travel.  It had been a long day. About halfway along the trip back into the villages, I pulled out a giant grocery bag of popcorn and passed it over my shoulder. Very soon, there was a lot of munching and excited talking going on in the back seats. They were saying how grateful they were for what we had done for them. They said they believe that God will bless us. They could not imagine how blessed George and I already feel.

Rural Evangelistic Outreach in Malawi

We are very thankful for the 10 days of ministry with Larry  and  LaVonna Cockerham and their team of 7 from Cleveland, Tennessee's Living Word Church. Over the past 15 months, George and I have been loving people and meeting needs in two rural unreached villages here in southern Malawi. The time had come to give a clear Gospel witness and an invitation to know the Jesus we have been telling them about.  

On the two nights we showed the Jesus Film, 220 men, women, and children raised their hands, prayed a prayer, then rushed forward to turn in their registration cards - a clear indication that they were making a firm commitment to let Jesus change their lives. Afterward, some of them deeply moved came to us and said, "We never knew these things." 

From the video, they learned that Jesus heals, and a huge crowd stepped forward when we offered prayer for healing. We are certain that these communities will never be the same! God is bringing new hope and changing lives. 

On the night of the showing, we invited those who responded to the call to know Jesus to a Discovery Bible Study on Saturday. Of course, we had no idea how many would come. Over 300 people came to study the Bible! Already, they are asking for Bibles, so we plan for each person who attends regularly to have their own Bible, pen, and notebook. 

George and I feel like parents with a nursery full newborn followers of Jesus. We ask for prayers for us as we teach the men, women and children and ask God to raise up leaders. Pray that the people will experience answers to their prayers and for these new believers to grow strong in their faith and obedience to follow Jesus. 

Dinner Date

It was nearly dark when we sat down to dinner last night at a newly enlarged and remodeled restaurant here in Zomba.  As we glanced around, we realized that the whole staff was preparing for some huge event. Of course, we had no idea what, but we knew it was going to be big.  

From time to time, we saw the owner moving smoothly through all the staging, pointing here and there, orchestrating the event. Then, lights flashed on a huge stereo system, and it began pulsing an African beat. All the while cases and cases of drinks were being loaded in the bars and candles were being lit at each table. 

When dozens of  UNICEF emblazoned SUVs  began pulling into the lot a few minutes later, we saw whose event we were sitting in the middle of. Evidently, this was the opening day of this massive aid agency's conference.  Soon, attendees were feasting on the sumptuous buffet and chatting around  the two open bars. 

George and I were quietly reviewing the day, and taking it all in as we enjoyed our meal, but our eyes popped when the live entertainment started.  As the music pulsed, two midgets took the stage and started dancing like I didn't know was possible. A variety of American rap and Malawian Chichewa music rocked the place while the two midgets grooved on. 

Near the end of our meal, one of the little dancers swooped out of his teeshirt, swirled it about his head, flung it to the side and continued dancing. 

Not to be outdone, the other midget dropped to the floor and began breakdancing and doing one arm handstands. It was certainly not what we expected when we sat down for a quiet dinner for two.