ZAMBIA CHRONICLES 2.0 - Funnies from the Field

Every time I take a missions trip, I can always count on an adventure. God showers the ministry with such profound blessings, but there are always episodes that provide plenty of laughter and wonder. I hope you’ll get a good chuckle as you read.

CONCERNED DAUGHTERS – Early in my journey, before I lost my phone, I was having a particularly bad day. I realized I missed a call from my girls while I was in the middle of a difficult confrontation, so I called them back. It was great to hear their voices on the other end of the line. I was down in the dumps, but they were so cheerful and glad to hear from me. My voice must have sounded terrible because they asked me if I was OK. Then one of them said, ”I just wanted to call to make sure you had packed enough underwear. I’m doing the laundry, and I’ve washed so much of your underwear I didn’t think you had enough. Are you sure you have enough?”

There’s nothing like a call from your children asking about your underwear supply to brighten your spirits! I couldn’t stop smiling and thinking, “Thank you God for these kids! Your timing is amazing. At least I know I’ll be well cared for once my nursing home years are upon me!” ☺

COW MANURE – Once I started the new farming co-op with the women in the village, we had a need for cow manure to place inside each of the planting holes for the strawberry plants and the fruit trees. The manure would enrich the soil, but I was instructed that it had to be decomposed/old manure, not freshly laid manure. A lady in the village was known for having an inordinate supply of this “black gold” on her property. Early one morning, at about 7am, I found myself standing in the middle of her huge cow manure patch (trying to avoid stepping on all the freshly laid mounds) negotiating manure prices, pick up, and delivery to my garden. As I looked around at my surroundings I said to myself, “Only the Lord could have arranged the circumstances that would allow me to be standing here doing what I’m doing, talking about what I’m talking about, and feeling as content as a newborn baby that’s just been fed.” That’s about the time I stepped right in a fresh one. ☺

PUMPING WATER – Every day I would walk over to the resource center and just stand inside the school room, talking to the Lord – thanking Him for all his goodness to us. After one of my daily visits, I walked a couple hundred yards down to the bore hole. There was a young woman there pumping water while she carried her newborn baby on her back. Her name is Sarah. My heart went out to her. She understood a little English, and I asked if she’d let me help her pump the water. She seemed surprised by my offer, but she accepted. I was doing great after my first 20 liter bucket (a little over 5 gallons). Then she brought me another! Half way into my second bucket, my arms caught fire! My pride wouldn’t let me stop, but I was DYING and practically throwing my body into the pump handle to keep the water flowing. I finished the second bucket. Sarah was getting ready to bring a 3rd, and then she looked at me. I must have looked pitiful because she said matter of factly, “You are tired.” I replied, “Give me the baby! You pump the water!” We both laughed! (p.s. she pumps 5-6 buckets a day and carries I them on her head, uphill about a couple hundred yards to her home without spilling a drop. I can't even lift the bucket up to my ankles!) #ImAWimp #ShesGotGuns☺

ZAMBIA CHRONICLES 2.0 - Final Thoughts

At the end of every day, Doreen would boil a pot of water for us to enjoy a cup of tea. We laughed a lot and talked about everything. With the busyness of the day behind us, it was wonderful to sit and relax. We would discuss all the events of that day and our future plans for the ZSOS community cooperative. As with any new initiative that is getting started, there are headaches to endure and bugs to work through. The key to staying encouraged is to keep the big picture objective in sight as methods and processes are fine-tuned. As we sipped tea, Doreen told me about the work she had been involved with concerning orphans in Zambia. I shared with her about my work with teen girls and homeless women in Jacksonville, Florida. We talked about how much we missed Atnes. She was caring for her sister in Lusaka that had recently had a stroke, so we didn’t get to enjoy her company on this trip.

One night, I was musing again and asked Doreen a question. I said, “Doreen, do you know why heaven is heaven?” She didn’t respond. I continued. “Heaven is heaven not because of the street of gold or the gate of pearl or the crystal sea. Heaven is heaven because Jesus is there. More than the fact that we’ll be reunited with our loved ones, we’ll get to see Jesus face to face. Jesus makes heaven.” Doreen remained silent but reflective. I continued. “That’s why I love the village so much – because the people that I care about and have been called to minister to are here, and I want to be close to them. Interacting face to face. It’s a priceless, precious time, and Christ is at the center of what we’re doing. ”

I’m so glad that the Lord has called me to the Zambian people. My ministry is definitely unconventional, but it’s God’s plan. He is doing exceeding, abundantly above all I could ever ask or think. When you say “yes” to God get ready for an adventure that is second to none...and buckle your seatbelt! ☺

ZAMBIA CHRONICLES 2.0 - Prayer Requests

If you’ve been reading the Zambia Chronicles for the last several years, then you can rejoice with me in knowing that the Lord is growing the ministry Of Zambia Sisterhood Of Servants (ZSOS) in amazing ways. Without the prayers and financial assistance of faithful supporters, we would never have been able to minister to the residents of Mnukwa chiefdom through our compassion projects: fresh water well pump installation, medical clinic renovations and support, literacy program, farming cooperative, building construction, and sewing instruction for women. Would you please pray with me about the needs mentioned below? ZSOS is off to blessed beginnings, and we value your continuous prayer cover. ☺

Specific Requests:

1. FRUIT THAT REMAINS – not just physical fruit from the trees in our orchard and the various plants that are being cultivated. We desire spiritual fruit for God’s glory in the lives of those who have been impacted by our work.

2. VOLUNTEERS – I’m thankful for all the people the Lord has placed in leadership positions on the ground. Please pray they would make wise decisions, be faithful in their positions, have integrity in their conduct, and display excellence in their efforts.

a. Robert and Doreen Zulu – overall project managers
b. Zachary Tembo –building construction engineer
c. Andrew Jere – project supervisor
d. Charity Zulu – farming co-op foreman
e. Matolase Lungu – sewing instructor
f. Mr. Silimbana and Mrs. Phiri – literacy school teachers

3. IMMEDIATE FINANCIAL NEEDS
a. $3500 for completion of resource center construction ( our goal is to have the building completed by November 1st, before rainy season begins)
b. $1000 for purchase of school desks, shelving, and cutting tables for the sewing classroom
c. $500 per month for project maintenance (covers transportation and communication costs, supplies for farming co-op, sewing program, and literacy school, and small honorariums for project supervisor, sewing instructor, and literacy school teachers)

Donations to Sisterhood Of Servants are tax deductible. You can donate online at http://www.sisterhoodofservants.com/donations.php, write a check, or give a good 'ole "Baptist handshake" whenever you see me! 

;-)

ZAMBIA CHRONICLES - Update ZSOS Farming Co-op

Rainy season has come to the Bush! I received these pics from Mercê Zuluover the weekend. Our beans, peas, greens and onion plants are thriving - albeit the leaves are providing nourishment for some peske insects, too. We may have to re-germinate the tomatoes, peppers, squash and cucumbers. because they haven't emerged, yet. I'm considering sending a new supply of seeds this month via courier. Please continue to pray for all the gardening efforts of our farmers, as well as our building efforts at the school. I'll be so glad to receive some pictures from my project manager, Zachary Tembo so that you can see all the progress. Everyone is working so hard to get this project off the ground. Thank you, friends!


 ☺

ZAMBIA CHRONICLES DAY 10: My View from the Porch

I loved sitting on Atness’ porch. Atness is the village matriarch (she’s 67 years young but also the oldest resident on “this side” of the road). Her porch was the gathering place for many of the villagers who wanted to stop by just to offer greeting to the “new mizungu in town” and chat with Atnes about all that was happening in the village. The time I spent on the porch reminded me of growing up in Mississippi at my grandmother’s house. Atness adopted me as her daughter, and Doreen became a wonderful big sister to me. Our time on the porch and around the table provided me with such great memories. We talked, laughed, and prayed together every day.

The week I spent in the village was exhausting, but I can’t remember a time when I was more content and at peace. There is just something about the dynamic of the environment that drew me in completely. It didn’t matter that at the end of every day I was covered from head to toe in a fine film of rust colored dust. It didn’t matter that I spent all my time from sundown until sunrise feeling like a blind woman longing for the powers of infra-red, x-ray vision (which everyone living in the village possesses except me). It didn’t matter that using the bush potty after the sun goes down is a HORRIBLY disturbing experience because you have to take a flashlight with you to see everything, and the things you end up seeing you really wish you didn’t know existed. It didn’t matter that several nights, in the middle of the night, I was awakened by what I thought was an intoxicated man crying out for someone. I kept hearing “Heeeelp! Heeeelp!” In my groggy, foggy slumber, I said to myself, “Would somebody please help that man and put him out of his misery?” As it turns out, the sound I heard was a rogue goat that couldn’t sleep. The goatpen is about 50 feet in front of Atness’ house. Instead of counting sheep, the goat decided to bay at the moon. It sounded like “haaaalp – as in “baaaa.” Before the night as over, I was ready to shoot that thing! 

None of those inconveniences mattered. What mattered was the fellowship and camaraderie that I witnessed between Atness and Doreen and the closeness of the people in the village. This oneness and sisterhood/brotherhood is distinctly different from anything I’ve experienced as an adult in America. I was an outsider, but I was treated with such warmth and acceptance. I listened to women as they talked and laughed while the waited to pump their water at the bore hole. I observed the happiest children who play outside ALL DAY, and only return home for their meals. I laughed some more.

Don’t misunderstand. The village isn’t a utopia. Drunkenness is a problem for a couple of high profile residents. Families are broken from divorce and separation. Children suffer the ill effects of parental neglect. Sickness and lack of access to medicine and proper diagnoses is an ongoing problem that I dealt with first hand. All of those things reminded me of life in America, but something better continued to prevail among this enclave of humanity that lives off the grid. I witnessed the effects of the gospel message working its way into people's lives after being shared every week through the faithful preaching of Missionary Dan Jalowiec and Pastor Jere. I watched the Lord move in the hearts of a community, and I was humbled to be part of what he was doing in their lives.

I’ve attached several photos and written the story of each in the description. I hope you’ll click through to get a better glimpse into my time in the village. What an incredible, blessed experience! 

Atness – This woman gets up at 4:30 every morning to care for her great granddaughter, Jesse. Then she faithfully walks to the bore hole to draw the first of many 5 gallon buckest of water for the day. By 7am, the sun has been shining for two hours, and Atness has already washed her dishes, swept the yard, wiped her floors, and prepared breakfast. Such an incredible servant of God.

My view from the porch – Atnes’ brother, Johnson Lungu (our literacy teacher) lives to the left of the center tree. The infamous goatpen is to the right. The sounds and smells I’ll remember most are those of family life and busyness: wood fires burning, the sound of water being pumped from the bore hole, happy children singing, unhappy babies crying, goats and sheep neighing, and greetings from passersby at the start of a new day.


This happy-go-lucky little girl stole my heart. Her name is Jesse (all week I kept thinking everyone was saying Jaycee). She is 6 years old and is Atness’ great granddaughter. Atness takes care of her even though Jesse’s mom lives only a mile down the road in another village. Jesse wakes up every morning at 4:30. The sun would rise at 5:00am and she was out the door by 5:15. Her first stop was usually Hope’s house that was just next door. By 5:30 every morning, I would hear these little girl giggles right outside the house. Jesse played all day long, and would only come to the house for meals. Sometimes I would walk around the village and call her to come home. We’d race to see who could reach Atness' porch first. By 7pm she would drop into a dead man’s sleep wherever her body happened to fall – outside on the porch, in an obscure corner of the house, or right in front of the table where we’d eat. My favorite shirt that Jesse would wear says, “I make dirt look good.” She wore that thing well! Please pray for her and her mom, Susan.

These little girls brought so much joy to my heart. Pictured left to right: Naomi, Hope, and Jesse. Hope has a beautiful singing voice. Long after the sun had gone down the girls would still run around the village, without a care in the world, singing songs about how to put on shoes. Precious!

Train ‘em young – some of the older children talked the “littles” into gathering firewood with them. This picture is precious to me. Left to right – Jesse, Dallon (age 2), Gift (age 3), and Maggie (age 6). I was told Dallon got home and was a little disappointed in himself. He told his mom, “I didn’t get much wood.” I think he got as much as his little body could carry. Good job, kiddo!

This herd of goats loved to frequent Atness’ porch. In their company was also a herd of long eared sheep, an old hen and her chicks, and an annoying black cat that kept finding its way into the house.

Black Mamba – The men from the farming co-op who slept in the tent every night had some wild adventures to tell the next morning. There was the incident of a couple of hyena taking down one of the village sheep, and the most frightening of all: the black mamba scare. Zulu Kennedy, my co-op foreman, was walking in the area near the tent when he encountered this poisonous black mamba. He ALWAYS wears flip flops regardless of the work he’s doing. His shoes look like they’ve tread a thousand miles. Thankfully the mamba bit the side of his shoe instead of getting his foot. A few centimeters higher and Zulu Kennedy would be no more! He and Samkhulani saved the snake for my photo op. Doreen saw the snake and almost jumped out of her chitenge (wrap around skirt)! She was a nervous wreck the rest of the afternoon. Every time she saw something grayish black she would jump about 2 feet. I couldn’t stop laughing.

Bathtime – Atness was so gracious. She would say to me, “You want bath-ing with fire?” which meant did I want her to heat the water first. I always said yes (she didn’t know that I detest cold showers). We borrowed the small washtub from Pastor Jere’s wife, Anastasia. Once the water was heated to boiling then cooled down a bit with water straight from the bore hole, Doreen or I would carry the washtub to the outdoor bathhouse. This was my delightful treat every day.

Big Tree Bible Baptist Church - There was a full house at church my last Sunday in the village. For the first time in my life every person came that I invited to attend the services: Mable Phiri was able to get off work from the clinic and was attending for the first time. Zulu Kennedy is catholic and most likely heard the gospel for the first time. Zikake Banda is separated from his wife who is a faithful member at Big Tree. He had never attended the church before. God is at work. Please pray especially for these families as the Lord brings them to mind.

ZAMBIA CHRONICLES DAY 9: Building Our School

In late 2012, Kevin Pestke and I started an email dialogue about the issue of illiteracy among the members of Big Tree Baptist Church. He had established this church plant in the village in September of that year. People were coming to Christ and a vibrant community of believers was growing in the Lord. They had bibles printed in their native Chichewa language, but few of the people could actually read the Word. Imagine entering into a relationship with the Creator of the Universe, being able to hold his word in your hands, yet being unable to read a word of his personal love letter. The thought of that broke my heart. At Sisterhood Of Servants we wanted to do something to impact the lives of women who lived in the bush, and starting literacy classes seemed to be the perfect opportunity. God supplied everything that was needed to begin. The first humanitarian grant that S.O.S. ever made was for the members at Big Tree and to help start the literacy school. The first classes started in January 2013 with 18 students age 15-50+. Under Kevin’s leadership, the literacy school flourished. Little by little, adults were learning to read and write. The shackles of illiteracy were being broken, and they were learning to read scripture.

Fast forward to 2016:  I finally had the chance to meet Johnson Lungu, our literacy teacher. He was so excited by the prospect of having an actual classroom in which to hold his classes. There are currently 26 students enrolled in 3 separate classes. Johnson has tailored the courses to meet the specific learning styles of the students. One of the courses is a class in English. Atness attends this class. She’s 67 years old and speaks/understands more English than I know Chichewa. One night after supper, she, Doreen, and I were sitting on her porch enjoying the night air and the fellowship of friends that would stop by just to say hello. Somehow we got on the subject of the literacy school. Atness said in perfect English, “I go to Johnson’s class. I’m learning to speak English and short sentences.” I ROARED with praise for her. She is a living example of someone willing to remain teachable through every phase of life.

On Monday evening I met Matthew Mwanza, the actual builder of the school. He and Zachary Tembo, my fellow board member and project manager, have been working through all the details related to the construction. Once the bore hole was installed, efforts to move forward with getting the building materials on site were ramped up. Our school requires 2100 cement blocks to be completed. However, the driver who planned to deliver the blocks could only haul 700 at a time. The first blocks arrived at 8pm Saturday night. Since it was pitch black dark, the blocks would have to be unloaded early Sunday morning before church. All the men from the farming co-op helped with the unloading. Pastor Jere and the guys wanted me to “experience” what it was like to unload and stack 700 cement blocks by hand. Doreen went with me. Oh. My. Word. I think the blocks must have weighed about 25 lbs. each. They were heavy, but I was a trooper. I didn’t unload all 700, but I did carry enough to get a couple of good pictures! 😉

Sunday afternoon I was part of a round table meeting with Pastor Jere and fellow board members, Dan Jalowiec and Robert Zulu. We discussed more details about the construction of the school and the most cost effective method for getting the building materials to our job site. The village is about 1 – 1½ hours from town in the middle of nowhere. Our transport costs could easily exceed our budget for the project if we weren’t careful. I learned so much from that brief meeting and was humbled in the process. In order to prep a site for pouring the foundation, one has to have sand, stone, water, and cement. I thought the sand was sold in bags and could just be placed on top of the next load of cement blocks and brought to the village by truck. I was shocked when the men explained to me that we would be borrowing shovels for several workers to use as they dug the sand out of a nearby riverbed, one shovel full at a time! In addition, the stone for our school would be provided by men and women who spend their days breaking large boulder type rocks into small, building grade pebbles. All of the stones would be delivered in wheelbarrows to our job site by these dear people. I had a lump in my throat as I thought about the many sacrificial hours that would be invested in our beautiful school building. Lord willing, someday I’ll get a chance to meet every man and woman that held a shovel, hammer, or chisel to help us on this journey.

Update: Robert Zulu sent me a message a couple of days ago that four truckloads of sand have been delivered to our site and the wheelbarrows of stone have started coming in. Praise the Lord for faithful men and women who have a mind to work. 

700 of the 2100 bricks that we'll use to build our school.

unloading cement blocks from the truck

zambian workers crushing stones for building materials. It's humbling to know this is how the foundation of our school will be prepped. I'm so grateful for every person that's going to be involved with our work.

ZAMBIA CHRONICLES DAY 8 – Composting and Celebrating

Saturday was a day of teaching, celebrating, and sharing. The ladies in the sewing class spent the morning putting the finishing touches on their over the shoulder bags. At the end of our last class, I surprised them with a gift of multiple yards of fabric prints and their own personal sewing kit. They cheered and clapped. I shared Jesus’ parable of the talents and challenged each woman to take the sewing materials and yardage and utilize them to create more tote bags or other sewing projects. I told them I would be looking forward to hearing the testimonies about how they invested their resources when I return to the village next year.

The members of the farming co-op woke at the crack of dawn (about 5:15am) and went down to the garden site to start the “watering ritual” to make sure the seeds we planted yesterday remained moist for germination. With the seeds in the ground, the only lesson remaining for me to share with the members was on composting. It would be important for everyone in the village to participate in “growing the soil” if we hoped to reap a successful harvest and free ourselves from the need to utilize synthetic fertilizers. As I mentioned previously, the TSA authorities confiscated the fertilizer I had packed into my checked luggage, so my only recourse was to purchase a 50kg bag of all purpose fertilizer in town. This would be a sufficient alternative until the compost was ready and could be added to the soil. I had performed a couple of soil tests and the results showed that the soil had been leached of the needed nitrogen, phosphorus, and potash ingredients that growing plants require.

Before our composting lesson began, the co-op members built us an oversize, two compartment compost bin that measures 3 meters long x 2 meters wide x 1 meter high. It’s a natural wood structure constructed from the poles the men had cut down earlier in the week. Smaller, more flexible branches were woven through the outer frame in a basket weave pattern. The finished bin was so beautiful; I just gushed over their handiwork. ☺

Residents in the village have been farming for generations, but no one uses compost. This was an incredible opportunity for me to teach everyone about saving kitchen scraps, wood ashes, corn cobs, leaves, and other things that are found organically in the village that could be recycled to make a nutrient rich planting material. Several local villagers had walked to the bore hole to check out all the excitement and the new community garden. I invited them to stay for the lesson. It would take consistent reminders on the part of our co-op members to begin to change the mindset of an entire village and encourage them to adopt this new farming practice, but I was hopeful. You see, in his sovereignty, the Lord had gone before me once again and provided the necessary field expertise. Our resident expert is named Mercê Zulu. She’s Robert and Doreen Zulu’s daughter, and she has a degree in agricultural/crop science. Mercy has agreed to be the overseer and continuing education teacher for the cop-op. She and I talked in great detail about regular soil testing, setting up a schedule for turning the compost, making sure nothing inappropriate was being added to the bin, and other technical issues, such as Nitrogen and Carbon mixing. Do you see what God did there? Before I even expressed my need, he had made a way for it to be met! Robert and Doreen have also pledged themselves to make monthly visits to the village to consult with Zulu Kennedy and work through any problems the co-op members may be experiencing.

After the compost lesson was complete, I called all the members over to the mango tree for one final surprise. Earlier in the week, I had enlisted the help of Samkulani to pull it off. He agreed to find a bicycle and ride to a local store to make some purchases for me. I wanted to say “thank you” to all the members for their many hours of work, so I put together a small token of my appreciation. My little offering included a box of cookies (biscuits), tea, a bottle of soda, a bar of soap, and a little kwacha – their local currency. Doreen and I had been laughing for two days because I couldn’t believe I was conceding to the idea of giving a bar of soap as a gift. I was certain each person would be offended and would think I was implying they all needed to go home and bathe! Doreen shared my concern with Sam. He just laughed at this notion and assured me the soap would be a welcome gift.

With Doreen by my side to guide me in my pronunciation, I said these words: “Zikomo pozipereka panchito” which being interpreted means ‘thank you from the bottom of my heart for your hard work and complete commitment to this project.’ I gave each member my gift and told them it was my pleasure to work alongside them as we sought to make significant economic, educational, and nutritional improvements in the village with the Lord’s blessing. I gave some instructions about the work schedule for the upcoming weeks and months, and I invited everyone to join me at church on Sunday. They all clapped their hands together in one accord and said, "Zikomo kwambedi" which means thank you very much! It was a great way to celebrate the completion of Phase I of the agricultural initiative.

Deluxe sewing kit given to each member of the sewing class

Each student was given the option to choose 2 additional patterns from the yardage shown. Please pray these ladies will be faithful with the resources they've been entrusted. I can't wait to hear their testimonies next year.
Our beautiful compost bin being constructed. I love the creative, cooperative energy of these farmers. They were such a blessing to me. 



Members of the co-op seated in front of the compost bin we just built: Left to right - Judith, Bernard, Samkhulani, Peter, Zulu, Elias, and Zikake. I was pleased to share these new concepts with some of the local residents.


Mercy Zulu - our continuing education teacher. She is a Godsend, and I'm thankful for her generous spirit of volunteerism

My thank you gift to the farmers - biscuits, tea (which they only enjoy at Christmas), soap, soda, and a little spending kwatcha