By the Numbers

In April and May we traveled throughout the south and southeastern part of the United States.  It was a major blessing, visiting supporting churches and seeing some friends and family along the way.  Our last blog chronicles several “firsts.”  This blog tallies some of the things we did and experienced.  Here ya go!

1             Major League Baseball game attended; we saw the Braves lose to the Nationals
2             Times we ate “grits” (once it was Shrimp and Grits, and oh it was good!)

                                            

Shrimp and Grits, Beaufort, South Carolina

3             Miles hiked on the AT, the Appalachian Trail (in Shenandoah Region of Virginia)
4             Minutes being interviewed on television (on the morning show in Albany, GA)
5             New states visited for at least one of us (TN, AL, GA, SC, NC) 

6                Smoothies consumed at McDonald’s, a great snack on the road!
7                Times we preached and gave the Children’s Sermon at different churches
12              States driven through (KY, TN, AL, GA, SC, NC, VA, MD, WV, PN, OH, IN)
16              Chapters of the Hobbit listened to while driving
17              Times we gave our presentation and shared with different church groups

Sharing at Rock Creek Presbyterian Church, Erwin, TN 

18                Different beds slept in (most were quite comfortable)
19                Churches we visited and connected with in some way

First Presbyterian Church, Albany, GA (a revitalized congregation!)

30               Days on the road
1732           People who heard about Congo through our presentations and preaching
3821           Miles on the road

                               On our way to Erwin, TN (our first church visit)

First time for everything

We are nearly finished with our “tour” of the Southeast in the U.S. It has been a wonderful experience! We have been inspired by the wonderful people we have met, and encouraged by our visits to churches. This is our first visit through the South, and many people have lived up to the reputation of “Southern hospitality” and have introduced us to some new things. Here are a few of the memorable ones:

1. Our first time to walk on the Appalachian Trail (we haven’t walked far yet, but it was a fun taste!)

2. Our first time to eat at Chick-Fil-A. And they even “blessed our meal” (gave it to us free!!) Yum!

3. Our first time to eat the Southern classics: grits, “shrimp and grits”, fried green tomatoes, cheese straws (home-made by Leland!), biscuits and gravy, and lots of sweet tea.

4. Kristi’s first time (I think) to do the children’s sermon at church (and everyone appreciated one boy who commented that I “looked like a disciple” in my Congolese dress)

5. Bob’s first time preaching in English in more than 3 years!

6. First time traveling with a GPS. We had a few frustrating moments in the learning curve, but overall “Mrs. Garmin” is incredibly helpful and handy!

7. Our first time to be on TV! We had a short interview on the morning show of the local Fox station in Albany, GA. (Thanks, Leslie for that opportunity!)

8. A fun first time to Turner Field to see an Atlanta Braves game (and to see the Tomahawk chop!)

9. A visit to historic Savannah, GA and Charleston, SC (where we also learned about the ubiquitous and fascinating natural trio: live oaks, Spanish moss, and resurrection fern. Thanks to the Scaleras for that introduction!)

10. First visit to the Civil Rights Institute of Birmingham. We learned a lot and highly recommend it!Thanks, Cody for hosting that visit!

11. First time to see a wild alligator, wild turkeys, and a rat snake.

alligator at the Mepkin Abbey near the Cooper River in SC

Wild turkeys wandered onto the highway in Georgia

12. Last, but perhaps the most significant…this is our first “interpretation assignment”. While speaking about mission work is not new to us, traveling to visit churches is, and sometimes we begin to feel like a “traveling road show” with all the luggage and stuff that we bring and our tight schedule. We are grateful for the wonderful people who have hosted us for the night or a meal, and have made this a wonderful experience.

Forty (a birthday poem)

My parents came home, that Easter day

with signs “baby boy,” their yard to display.

Robert Brian his name, eyes blue be-

holding, a world all ‘round him, new, inviting.

A beautiful sky, a wondrous day

Birds a’ singing, “Lord, come what may!”

 

Come what may, oh Lord of life

These forty years, have seen their strife.

Disappointments, hurts, betrayal, depression

A common lot, for the human vocation.

Wealth have I known, want as well,

What can I tell you, but we are quite frail.

 

What message might these forty years speak,

What wisdom these days proclaim,

From one who lusted, riches and fame

But knows now, unadulterated vain.

Come close friend, whisper in your ear

Message of truth, the ages to hear.

 

There is One loving. There is One pure.

Forgiving faithful just, His future sure.

Forty years in the desert, Israel learned -

Dependence faith trust, in the One concerned.

Forty days in the desert, Jesus learned –

Hope faithfulness security, to Whom he yearned.

 

What message might these forty years speak,

What wisdom these days proclaim,

From one humbled under -

The umbrella of humanity’s dark stain.

One thing I might say, two things you might learn –

That God is loving, His light healing, all human pain.

 

A beautiful sky, a wondrous day

A new world coming, Jesus don’t delay!

Come close friend, whisper in your ear

Message of truth, God is here.

Jesus is alive, He feels your every pain –

Hear the birds singing, “Your life, His ‘ever gain!”

 

by Bob Rice

Do you like living in Congo?

We often get asked a variation of this question, and I often find myself mulling over this question in the midst of life in Kananga.

The short answer: yes

The honest answer: some days yes, some days no!

Much of the physical parts of life are challenging. We do not enjoy not having running water, or being kept awake by police arguing just outside our window. The culture is very different from the U.S., and even though we are getting more familiar with it, we still sometimes feel awkward or frustrated. For example, it is accepted and common for people to ask someone for something, especially when they perceive that person to be more wealthy than they are. Culturally, Congolese often feel to us to be demanding and confrontational in the way that they interact…which mean we often feel like people are demanding things from us and then insulting us if we fail to meet their request. “Give me your watch” is a common “request”.  Living around the level of poverty in Congo is often depressing and overwhelming. We do not enjoy seeing malnourished children, students who can’t pay school fees, or going to funerals of young people.

Yet, there are aspects of life in Kananga that we really enjoy. We see how God has helped us in specific and significant ways to build relationships, learn the language, and begin to understand the culture. Both the language and the culture of Kasai stipulate that all children in the community are “our” children—not yours or mine. When someone gets sick or in trouble, there is often a sacrificial response of care and solidarity from friends and family. And among many people, there is a clear realization that God is not distant, but close, even in the midst of the very harsh life circumstances.

I remember visiting Pastor Manyayi and his family one afternoon. The wind picked up and dark clouds rolled in. We voiced concern about getting home, given the storm that seemed about to break. “It won’t rain,” Pastor Manyayi reassured us, “at least not yet. Maybe around 8pm this evening.” We relaxed and enjoyed the rest of our visit. Later that evening after we had returned home, the rain did start, at almost the exact time he had predicted. I love being in a place where people can “read” the signs of the weather, since they have not grown up with the luxury of a daily weather forecast on the radio!

The crux of the matter is that we are convinced that God has called us to serve Him in Congo. We don’t live in Kananga because it is an “enjoyable” place to live, although it can be. And we don’t live in Kananga because we think that we can “fix” the physical or spiritual problems people face there. We make our home in Kananga to be present with people, and share in the hope that God is revealing His love in and through the people of Congo and growing His church. We know that God wants people in Congo to know His incredible love and grace. We are glad to be here as representatives of the church in the U.S. – a sign that God has not forgotten Congo, and neither has the church in the U.S.

Caught in the Rain

Two weeks ago Kristi came home late afternoon on a Saturday.  She had been in a meeting.  Before coming home she sent a text, asking me about visiting the “donut lady.”  Mamu Annie and her teenage daughter sell beignet (small donuts) across the street in the small market.  Their business does quite well.  Mamu Annie, however, has suffered greatly recently.  Her eldest son died of meningitis.  Her niece, named after her, subsequently died at the tender age of six months.  We heard Mamu Annie bawling down below when she heard the news of the second death.  It was unnerving and heart wrenching.  The donut shop had been closed now for several days.

Kristi and I determined we would go see Mamu Annie and comfort her.  Kristi went below to ask the fellow market workers where Mamu Annie lived, and whether or not anyone could show us the way.  “At this hour?”  They replied.  “With rain coming soon?”  They further pressed.  “Yes,” Kristi replied. adamantly.  “We must go today.”  Mamu Luta volunteered to take us.  Ten minutes later we were walking along the foot-trafficked roads and paths of Kananga.  Thunder pulsated in the heavens.  Would it rain?  We were told the trip to Mamu Annie’s home would take an hour and a half.  It was far, but probably half that distance.  Mamu Luta faithfully delivered us to Mamu Annie’s home.  We met her father, her brother and sister-in-law who lost the baby, and her mother.  We sat with Mamu Annie for a while.  The thunder and clouds hinted at their hidden intentions.  We entered their home to pray for them and give a small cash contribution.  We went outside again, and told Mamu Annie we must leave because of the rain.  The overhead conditions beckoned an onslaught of showers. 

A child of the family led us up to Mamu Luta’s home.  It had just begun raining upon our arrival.  Mamu Luta invited us into her home to evade the torrents.  She had given us a papaya to take home.  We sat in her home as the sheets of rain fell.  The trees swayed violently outside her door.  It was a tropical storm of Gilligan's Island proportions.  A friend or neighbor caught in the rain came into her home for refuge too.  We all sat as Mamu Annie scurried around doing some house chores.  The violence of the storm contrasted with the peace and gentleness of Mamu Luta.  She stuck several buckets outside to catch rain water.  Sitting in a Congolese home one gets a greater feel for everyday life of the people.  We noticed the guinea pigs scurrying around, a common site in many homes.  These are a good protein source.  I was impressed with the cement floor, and though there were some holes in the iron sheeting roof, it seems that not much rain was entering.  Fifteen minutes later the rain died down a bit.  Mamu Luta and her neighbor suggested we make a break for it.  She loaned us her umbrella to compliment our own.  After travelling up the path 100 yards, the rain began falling in torrents again.  The neighbor found refuge in a church, while Mamu Luta beckoned us back.  To her home we returned to wait out the renewed waves of water pellets. 

Fifteen minutes later we decided it was time to try again.  The path had become like a small stream.  Mud was everywhere and we had to walk where the ground was more solid.  Only a few people were out, common during the rain.  We trekked on and on, greeting the few passersby.  Three quarters of the way home we ducked into a church as the rain renewed its strength.  We sat with old women coming home from the market, along with several young people who offered us chairs.  Two young girls continued selling cassava and corn flour in our safe shelter.  Life continued on, all of us sitting together waiting out the rain.   

Twenty minutes later we were on the road again.  Everywhere people had laid out buckets to catch the precious water.  It was another world, walking in the rain, seeing again how nature affects everyday life in Congo.  Finally we reached home.  We asked ourselves if going to see Mamu Annie was a mistake.  After all, we knew it was going to rain.  After less than two seconds, we said to ourselves, “No.  It wasn’t a mistake.  We needed to see her.  This was our only chance.  We simply got caught in the rain.”