More photos

Chris preached at Siabalumbi our first Sunday in Zambia.  Samuel Moono did a masterful job translating.

Our first morning at Seven Fountains, holding babies and singing songs during morning devotional.

 

 

Thoughts from Gray

So of all the positive things we've gained from Africa no one really hears of the negatives. Its been very interesting learning to use some of the "toilets" or holes in the ground surrounded by a few bricks for privacy. Or riding everywhere in the back of a pick up truck on the "roads". Over all it really hasn't been bad at all tho. Rugged Africa has been a thrilling view into the lives of people who live to work and work to live. I've been greatly humbled seeing these people who will never experience luxury. Or even understand it. Let alone enjoy it. They say, "A day without nshima (the bland ground corn meal they eat) is a day without food." That's something I will never be able to understand. But they have taught me a great deal about humility and hard work. Something that I WILL carry with me back to America.

Random thoughts by Angie

by Angie 

 
I don't even know how to describe the emotions in my heart after being in Zambia for the past three weeks!!!

God has overwhelmed me with his faithfulness in this place, with his love in the warm greeting from the people, his deep love in the faces of the children and babies as they stop and stare at the "makua"... (white people), and then as they warm up and all try to high 5 or hold our hands at once! 

Ruhtt and Shepherd Mbumwae have made a deep impression on my heart in their generous hospitality, fabulous food, life changing teaching in their daily example, and the fellowship we enjoyed daily. 

My emotions are very near the surface as I think of the Mbumwae's, Ba Wilson, and his infectious smile and jovial attitude, his story telling and contagious laugh. Joan and the precious babies at 7fountains orphan care.  Of dinners by candlelight... Stories at the fire.  Siabalumbi school with Sharon Mulanga, and Clinton, mestridah, josphat, rhoyd, mapenzi... Of nalabumba and God's blessing of finding water in a village that needed a source of life and encouragement, that came at the end of a week of much prayer for them and the good news being shared... Of see you laters.... When they are so far away... And Emma's baptism in Zambia is the cherry on the top... Sweet surrender....

God has been good to us.  Words cannot describe. We are all changed. My prayer is that we will be different because of what He has shown us in his grace.
Keep praying 

Sunday, 17 June, 2012: Seven Fountains

by Chris

Zamtime has begun to seep into our daily routine. We arrived for church at Seven Fountains about ten minutes late, expecting Bible class to begin at 9:00. Wilson Siazilo, the elder statesman of the church, greeted us in the churchyard. Being the guest speaker for the morning, I was embarrassed and so I apologized. We made our way to the entrance of the church, stepping over the numerous cowpatties in the church yard, and walked inside to find that no one else had arrived yet. Gotta love Zamtime.

Bible study started at about 9:30. We discussed Deuteronomy 8. We celebrated the Lord's Supper with saltine crackers and watery wine, and listened to Chris and Shepherd preach a bilingual sermon on spiritual growth from Phil. 1:6. Seventy two people were present, contributing a total of 139,150 kwacha (about $28). At the end of the services a quartet of young men honored our team by singing three beautiful songs in Tonga. (Wow, the Tonga people have a gift for singing!)

Finally we participated in a wonderful tradition. Wilson asked our team to exit the church first, as honored guests, and we stood just outside the door. Then, as one of the ladies led an echoing song of good bye, the congregation sang and filed past, shaking our hands, one at a time.

Loving On Babies at Seven Fountains

by Emma

To say we haven't been changed by our time in Zambia would be a lie. From the smiling faces at Siabalumbi, to the warm handshakes of the blind people at Simakakata, we have been welcomed with love. It is for this reason that I am not particularly keen to leave this place. All are happy to greet us by saying "Mwabuka buti!" And and all hold out their hands with gratitude at the gifts we bring.

At the beginning of our trip, we stayed at Seven Fountains orphanage. It was here that we faced no hesitation about the "makua," no curious stares. To my surprise, the aunties left us alone with the babies- on the first day no less! The aunties, patient, kind, compassionate, and joyful, looked genuinely glad to meet us. We were outside- in the spacious courtyard, the babies' playpen. Instantly I bonded with Sibajene. They call her Jene, pronounced Janie. She's a toothless, consistently happy, sweet eight month old., impossible to not befriend. I not only bonded with Jene, but became attached to Abigail. As a sassy almost two year old, Abi's cirrhosis, toddling steps, and silly inconsistencies immediately captivated me.

On Sunday, after church, we walked to the orphanage for one last visit- we had been invited to lunch. During final preparations for lunch, Rachel, Grayson, and I waited patiently in the room outside the nurseries. The only one awake was Cornolius- Gray's little buddy. After peeking consistently into the nursery containing Abi's crib, for maybe ten minutes, I finally saw sweet chocolate brown eyes peeking out at me. With permission, I picked up my Abi, despite her leggings being soaked through (as they wear cloth diapers). She and I very patiently waited our turn as the aunty changed Lumamba. When she had on a dry dress and leggings, we sat out on the ABC mat. Here we practiced saying our favorite word "Emma", "yeah yeah yeah", and also "boop boop boop boop!" while gently tapping each other on the nose.

After lunch, with the dishes washed, and put away, Rachel and I immediately found our way to the other kitchen. Hearing laughter, and baby chatter, we grinned and hurried to join in. Practically sitting under the table, I motioned for Abi to crawl over into my lap. It seemed that not two minutes later, Gray came and impatiently told us to say farewell. Tears welled up in my eyes as I kissed Abi's cheek for the last time. I will probably never see my sweet, independent, crazy toddler again. When I tried to put her down, I could no longer blink them back: Abi did NOT want to be put down. Clinging to my arms, and wrapping her legs around me, she made a desperate exclamation. As I hugged her for the last time, I prayed that God would watch over my baby girl, keep her safe, and hopefully send her back to her family. Then, before leaving, I prayed this same prayer for each of the little one as I kissed their head, sleepy or wide awake, and said my final goodbye. 

Although we are not related by blood, I am now connected to each of these children. I will never forget their smiling faces, as God has used them to make an imprint on my heart.

Mural

Angie, Grayson, Emma, and Rachel painted this mural inside two of the five churches we visited, in Nalabumba and Siabalumbi.  They were going to paint it in Mutala also, but the workers who were asked to paint the undercoat misunderstood the instructions to paint an area "at the front of the church." Instead, they painted the front facade of the church.  We're considering painting the mural on a banner when we return to the States and then sending it with the next team to come over.

It's a timeline of the Bible.

Saturday, 16 June 2012: Gathering to Listen to the Makua

by Chris

I was told before we left Topeka that our white skin would be an attraction. We've felt the stares of the people almost the entire time. It was most blatant, however, when we returned to The Plateau after lunch. Mr. Kajolo said, "Why don't you and your family stay here and we'll send the people to you?" He and the rest of the men walked through the compound, inviting the people to come listen to the makua preach. Makua means "white people." We have heard that word often as we walk through the villages.

The children came first. We sat in the middle of the "football pitch," the soccer field, and sang Bible songs. Mostly the children just stared at us. After about thirty minutes the adults started to arrive. I got up to move to the adult group and Abson came to join Angie and the kids in order to translate for them. They sang more songs and told a Bible story.

Mr. Kajolo had Joseph lead a couple of songs for the adults and then introduced me. I preached with a translator again, breaking my sentences up into brief thoughts. I told them a little about my own experience with a messenger of God, people who came to point me to Christ. I shared with them what the Bible says about sin and separation from God. We were created by God to be with him and he is our greatest joy, our greatest satisfaction. Without him we will always be dissatisfied. And there's nothing we can do about it. But Jesus has already done everything about it. He volunteered to be sacrificed on a Roman cross in order to bring us to God.

With the winter sun hanging low on the Zambian horizon, burning the back of my pale neck and turning the elephant grass into waving gold, twelve people stood and wanted to be restored to him.