Report #4

I am now writing you from Rory and Judy Ervine’s patio overlooking the lake in Doma where Dani and I stayed three years ago. The rains have begun in earnest and all is green and mild. There is an electric sunset igniting the belly of the clouds. The crickets and birds are shouting their hallelujahs. They are oblivious to the brokenness of the Zimbabwean humans.

Dave and I have been bouncing down the roads in his muddy Land Rover to visit some of the villages we ministered to back in 2006. It is wonderful to make connections with so many old friends. We sit in thatched huts and drink tea whitened with goat’s milk. Our poor African hosts give all they can, but there is a look of pent up sadness as they discuss the sufferings of the last three years.

Coming directly from India as I have, I generally keep it to myself that life can become much more impoverished. Africans do not need to hear discouragement. What they need is for the country to repent in mass before Jesus. If they were to call on God, he has promised to heal their country. It worked fabulously for South Korea.

The more likely scenario is that only a minority of Zimbabweans will turn to God. In that case, those who trust Jesus will suffer along with their countrymen, but after death they will enjoy the blessing they always dreamed of. We are meeting some precious souls who are in fact headed for God’s reward. An example is Nhamo.

I took a long walk-about around the lake near where I am staying in Mhangura. This is more than twenty kilometers from where we worked in 2006. As the lake narrowed at the feed river, a stringy black man spotted me from the other side. He watched intently, which bothered me because I wanted to pass by his side and knew nothing of these people.

“Are you wanting a way across,” he shouted.

“Yes,” I returned.

“About one hundred meters more,” the man pointed and sent his skipping son to show me the way.

When I approached, we greeted in Shona, then he asked in a bass voice, “Don’t you know me? You baptized me in Doma three years back. My name is Nhamo.”

He took me to his property with its thatched roundovals enclosed by a grass-reed fence. There I met his wife who beamed a white smile as her husband explained who I was.

This has happened a couple of times. I am meeting people changed by the work Dave and I did when we labored together. Yesterday we spent the afternoon with Richard and his two wives and their 66 goats. They were converted from a polygamist cult during our prior outreaches (I mean Richard and his wives were converted, not the goats).

“Our husband has changed so much since he met Christ,” the younger wife told us through translation.

When we left, we took six of the goats in the back of the Land Rover. What a hoot to see those curious heads watching the landscape wiz by and hear them bleat. Although, I was not so happy when they peed on my knapsack.

I do not think I could normally wander through towns or around rural lakes, 20 kilometers from our previous ministry center, and stumble into people we led to Jesus. I believe these encounters were God’s way of saying, “By my power I have blessed your past work.”

The Lord wants me to see that ministry is still supernaturally fruitful and the greatest opportunity for any believer. What a joy to glimpse a fraction of what the Lord is doing. The blessings so far outweigh the sacrifices that I am not even mindful of anything lost.

Thank you Jesus for the privilege of being your servant. And thank you friends for praying for ministry success. We share together in the spoils.

JDC

Report #3

We last left off as we were headed to Mumbai (Bombay) to research ministry with exploited minors. We have completed three days of investigations and learned much.

It is not easy. The pimps aggressively protect their investments and the children and women have been used until they are not ready to trust anyone new. There are legal issues, language obstacles, and spiritual strongholds.

The eternal destiny of some precious souls is at stake and I am not ready to give up. God has given us the privilege of meeting amazing Christians who struggle daily to free these imprisoned victims. We spent time learning their ministry and praying with them.

This morning we attended a wonderful English worship service and the guest speaker was a man from the U.K. who has started Christian Schools in difficult places like India. He inspired us to move Christian education up on our agenda. God is lining up the resources we will need.

Case Story:

Yesterday Richard and I visited a home for children rescued from the streets. These girls, age 6 and below, were voluntarily given over to the home by their prostitute mothers. They now have a safe environment where they can learn about Jesus instead of living trapped in the sex trade cycle.

During our visit, a new four-year-old girl was brought in from the streets and welcomed into the home. Little Sania’s mother was heart-wrenched at giving her up, but she knew this was the only hope for her daughter.

For her part, Sania was a love sponge as she hugged one of her new sisters, then another, then jumped on the lap of a house mother. A gourmet cake was placed in front of her and a Hindi welcome song offered by the entire household. What a beautiful moment. When you consider the long-term implications of this day in the life of Sania, you realize how privileged we were to share it with her.

There are many unknowns in our plan of starting a home for exploited minors. However, one thing is for sure: there are still a great many suffering children for whom no one is doing anything. That is all the incentive we need to press on in asking the Lord to use us to help.

Next stop, Zimbabwe, Africa. God willing, I will update you from there.

Thanks for the prayers.

JDC (An unworthy servant)

India Report #2 (Click Here for Photos)

After preaching on Sunday in the village of Rajupalem, I was privileged to teach about 75 evangelists on Monday. They were gathered for monthly training at ALMA in Nellore. I had worked the day before on a lesson plan about ministering in the power of the Spirit. An hour before the meeting, Rufus asked that I speak on Christmas. He wanted a practical sermon the evangelists could repeat in their 280 village churches this December.

Flexibility comes much easier to the Indian than the American. Rufus was right though and the new lesson was much better than the old one. We had a good time getting the evangelists to act out a modern-day version of the Mary and Joseph story that took place in an Indian village. It is awesome to think I was really preaching to thousands of believers spread over the hundreds of churches the evangelists will reach.

Next I flew with Richard Harris to the green state of Kerala. The Kerala motto is “God’s own country,” and it fits. A four-hour drive through jungle-draped hills took us to the Mankulam Punjayat (a punjayat is a collection of villages). I had forgotten how much the road winds and how primeval the mountains are. Think of Jurassic Park or Bali High in the movie Hawaii and you will have the idea.

After reuniting with some of our local contacts, we investigated possible land sites for the orphanage. Next we walked through a bamboo forest to view a massive waterfall. Wearing sandals, our feet collected dozens of leeches. As we pealed them from our skin, the rush was on because we could see more of the bloodsuckers walking end-over-end towards us. Eeek! We laughed and hurried on.

Other than the leeches, this would be an excellent place for abused children to heal and know the love of Jesus. I look forward to seeing what the Lord has in store.

After three days in the mountains, Richard and I are now headed to Mumbai (Bombay) to see about how to collect children from the brothels and streets. God seems to be placing all the right contacts around us. However, it is a constant challenge to avoid others who’s interests are selfish.

Travelers tip: In Nellore I washed my clothes in a bucket then hung them under fans for three days. Because of the constant rains, the clothes never dried. I packed them wet and by the time we flew to Kerala, everything was sour. I gave them to the hotel to wash again, and again they were returned wet. After toting the soggy laundry to Cochin, I decided drastic measures were in order before the cycle repeated. The hotel gave us an iron that I planned to use to dry the clothes but it would not get hot enough. Before packing the clothes for another flight to Mumbai, I popped them into the microwave; two minutes for shirts, one for underwear. It worked great and I am happy to report my clothes are clean and dry.

Normally my undies are fairly clean, but if ever you visit the Lotus Hotel in Cochin, you might want to avoid heating your food in the microwave in room 303.

Peace.

India Report #1

I am happy to report that phase one of my trip in southeastern India is paying off. Although, it did not start out well.

I am here to research for a new novel. With my prior novel, the storyline fell into place as the research progressed. With this book, called Mother India, I was getting more and more confused. No central story seemed to materialize; only disjointed testimonies from the villagers I recorded onto hours of tape.

Finally on the fourth day after much prayer, the Lord lifted the haze. I now have my creative direction and general plotline based on factual events. I am excited to begin writing towards the end of this year.

As I go about the interviewing process I cannot ignore opportunities for ministry along the way. Thus, I have had been demonstrating gospel magic at schools, encouraging small groups, and writing ministry promotional scripts.

We passed by the city dump with mountains of garbage, 50 feet deep. I spotted people picking through the rotting, smelly, fly-infested mounds. We walked out to them and noticed their huts built on top of the garbage.

A family of five was sorting through freshly dumped bags from the hospital. One man was eating leftover rice from a trash bag. I watched as another man with leprous fingers plowed through blood-filled IV tubes, soaked gauze pads, and needles to salvage hypodermic plungers. They were recycling plastic. A good day’s work will bring them 15 Rupees or 30 cents US each. Tough way to make a living.

As I spoke to them through my interpreter named Job, it came out that they were all born-again Christians. When they learned that I was also, they stopped all work and their eyes sparkled as I reminded them that in paradise they would have huge rewards for remaining faithful during their suffering on earth.

“You have brought us the word of God today,” the father told me.

With beaming smiles they thanked us profusely for talking to them.

I take so many of my own blessings for granted. They were just grateful that a comparatively rich Christian would stop to talk to them. Wow.

The monsoons are in full swing and everything is soaked, or under water. Many of the village roads disappear into the swirling runoff. Our rooms have been leaking until we could almost hold baptisms inside. The upside is the temperature is very comfortable.

Thanks for your prayers. They are having a strong effect. God is speaking, lives are touched, and food is staying where it is supposed to.

More soon…

Don--

India Report #1

I am happy to report that phase one of my trip in southeastern India is paying off. Although, it did not start out well.

I am here to research for a new novel. With my prior novel, the storyline fell into place as the research progressed. With this book, called Mother India, I was getting more and more confused. No central story seemed to materialize; only disjointed testimonies from the villagers I recorded onto hours of tape.

Finally on the fourth day after much prayer, the Lord lifted the haze. I now have my creative direction and general plotline based on factual events. I am excited to begin writing towards the end of this year.

As I go about the interviewing process I cannot ignore opportunities for ministry along the way. Thus, I have had been demonstrating gospel magic at schools, encouraging small groups, and writing ministry promotional scripts.

We passed by the city dump with mountains of garbage, 50 feet deep. I spotted people picking through the rotting, smelly, fly-infested mounds. We walked out to them and noticed their huts built on top of the garbage.

A family of five was sorting through freshly dumped bags from the hospital. One man was eating leftover rice from a trash bag. I watched as another man with leprous fingers plowed through blood-filled IV tubes, soaked gauze pads, and needles to salvage hypodermic plungers. They were recycling plastic. A good day’s work will bring them 15 Rupees or 30 cents US each. Tough way to make a living.

As I spoke to them through my interpreter named Job, it came out that they were all born-again Christians. When they learned that I was also, they stopped all work and their eyes sparkled as I reminded them that in paradise they would have huge rewards for remaining faithful during their suffering on earth.

“You have brought us the word of God today,” the father told me.

With beaming smiles they thanked us profusely for talking to them.

I take so many of my own blessings for granted. They were just grateful that a comparatively rich Christian would stop to talk to them. Wow.

The monsoons are in full swing and everything is soaked, or under water. Many of the village roads disappear into the swirling runoff. Our rooms have been leaking until we could almost hold baptisms inside. The upside is the temperature is very comfortable.

Thanks for your prayers. They are having a strong effect. God is speaking, lives are touched, and food is staying where it is supposed to.

More soon…

Don--