New update video!

Below is a new update video, that we hope will give you a small taste of how we see God at work in South Sudan. We appreciate very much your partnership in this ministry!

Please let us know if you have any questions or comments - we are happy to share more if you have specific questions.

Nothing Leads to My Best Something!

In Disney’s Christopher Robin, Robin, the main character, finds himself pulled between his family and his job. His boss scolds him, telling him “Nothing leads to nothing,” in essence saying, “get out there and do something if you want anything in life.” In the continued verbiage of Robin’s employer, Robin can either “sink or swim.” The inimitable Winnie the Pooh, confidant and friend to Robin, later counters, “Nothing leads to my best something!”

These last six weeks have been filled with a lot of ‘nothing’ for Kristi and I after the skateboarding accident I sustained on August 10th. Of course that is not entirely true, I have been faithful to my physical therapy twice a day and the daily tasks of life take more time during this recovery period. But there have been large swathes of time to do ‘nothing’, to just “be.” I have spent hours in the sun-porch just looking out into the green space behind the home of Jim and Sherri Bertolet, my parents in-law. We have been able to listen to baseball in the evenings, watch US Open tennis, watch movies, read books we have been chomping at the bit to read, spend time just chatting with neighbors, and take walks in the evenings as my hip slowly heals. I have been able to slow down to a pace where I don’t have to always be concerned about what to do and where to be next. Of course I have not been totally freed from my spirit of “do-ism” and planning, nevertheless, I feel more able to relax and "free" as a result of this forced rest. 

On sun-porch, resting and enjoying peace

Friends from church bring us a meal to share 

For someone like me who too often feels driven to action, I feel like I am “seeing the light” afresh, that indeed, “Nothing leads to my best something.” I am being confronted once more with the wisdom and truth that the notion of ‘nothing leading to nothing’ is a lie. Christopher Robin found himself sinking into the abyss of pandering to his employer at all costs, not honoring his True Self and not honoring his family and his own past which included the bear Pooh. His wake-up call began by finding Pooh on a bench near his flat in London, a meeting which would change everything.

For me, my accident was also a wake-up call. It was a reminder of my human frailty and, as a result of a broken hip and a broken elbow, a reminder of my dependency upon others around me, in this case for simple everyday tasks as simple as getting out of bed.  Kristi and I have experienced a fresh appreciation for the gift of life and the simple pleasures of being able to move, walk, travel, and enjoy the outdoors. We trust that these weeks of ‘nothing’ and forced rest will indeed ‘lead to our best something’. We do not know what that ‘best something’ is, but we trust that God has done something in us these six weeks which will prove profitable for His Kingdom here on earth.

Enjoying a short walk and enjoying the sunset

Putting together a puzzle

Thank you for those of you have prayed for us and encouraged us during this season. We appreciate the phone calls, the home visits, the meals, the cards in the mail, the emails, the puzzles, the movie recommendations, the Facebook posts, and the gifts sent. The words of the letter of the author to the Hebrews reminds us that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses as we run with perseverance the race marked out for us in Christ Jesus (Hebrews 12: 1).

Indeed, as Winnie the Pooh reminds us, our “Nothing leads to our best something!”

Newsletter, Nile Theological College

We have enjoyed the last month here in the United States, visiting family, visiting churches and participating in a few conferences. We have also enjoyed being “reacquainted” with the beauty of our homeland, especially driving across the rolling green hills of Ohio, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland and West Virginia.

Before leaving South Sudan, our Media Team produced our second newsletter for Nile Theological College. Enclosed you will find insightful articles from faculty and students, and pictures from our 2018 graduation and Easter Retreat.  If you haven’t had the chance to read it, here is your chance. Follow this link –

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Hael1lmW6zMcPJqFaW8tO3h6_MVHa0Th/view?usp=sharing 

Enjoy the final weeks of summer!

Bob and Kristi

The Gift of Presence

I looked over at the faces of the choir members, rigid with intensity and dripping with sweat as they sang and danced down the road. The large drums beat load, but the people sang even louder, lifting their hands in the air. I was humbled by their enthusiasm and energy. This was something of a ‘welcome parade’ to greet the moderator and the team that accompanied him on a visit to Bentiu. We were walking (or dancing and marching, with the choir) through the large camp for Internally Displaced Persons (IDPS), ending with a celebration at the church. Being met by such an enthusiastic crowd was humbling, and then we were welcomed in traditional Nuer fashion by having our feet washed. I was overwhelmed by the welcome, and realized how significant it was for this remote congregation to be visited by their leaders and feel connected to the church in other places.

On Saturday was the ordination service. The church was packed to standing-room only, with several visiting choirs and representatives from other churches. One pastor was ordained, along with seven elders and thirteen deacons/deaconesses. Several of the elders and deacons had traveled long distanced to come and be ordained because according to the church policy an ordination can only be done by at least two members of the central Ordination Committee. So, this was a rare opportunity, which had not happened in more than five years. Bentiu was not an easy place to get to. We had traveled by cargo flight, sitting on boxes instead of seats, because that was the only way to reach this remote location. While sitting in the service, I reflected that this visit had been more than six months in the planning. The physical visit of our team showed value to the people of Bentiu, but more than that, it helped me and others to connect and understand in a way that was not possible only through hearing stories.

The newly ordained pastor reads Scripture on Sunday morning 

 laying hands on new deaconesses as they are ordained

On Sunday morning in church, the youth choir again impressed people with their full-throated and exuberant songs. I asked Nyakuma to explain the song to me. “They are singing about suffering,” she said. “We are dying of hunger, disease, and war. Come close to God, and He will comfort us. He is our only hope in this suffering.” I was surprised – somehow, I did not expect them to sing about suffering. But that is the reality in the region around Bentiu, where conflict and instability have driven most of the population into one huge IDP camp. As we drove to our lodgings that night, Nyakuma pointed to the places where dead bodies had lined the road when she was fleeing to the camp in 2014. Her family had been living in the swamps and bush for 3 months at that point, because their village had been attacked. They ate waterlilies until starvation forced them to find a way to the camp. She recalled the struggle to get her siblings past the roadblocks so they could enter the camp. On this visit five years later, she was glad to see Bentiu again when it was peaceful, even though the displacement of so many people continues.

The youth choir sings on Sunday morning

The environment of Bentiu felt harsh and barren to me. When it rained, the clay soil because gooey mud that you sink into or that sticks to your shoes in big chunks. At those times, everyone either goes bare footed or wears gum boots. In the sun, the ground became hard – not ideal for farming. The land was dotted with scrub brushes, but not big trees or lush green like I expected. I learned later that large trees near the camp had been cut down to prevent soldiers from sitting under them and attacking refugees coming to the camp. Yet, in this remote, harsh environment, communities are slowly rebuilding and people are surviving, healing, and holding onto hope. I join them in praying that peace will continue to come, and that doors will open for them to leave the camp and rebuild their lives.

Visit to the Holy Land

At the invitation of Kristi’s parents, we recently returned from almost two weeks in the Holy Land, visiting sites situated in modern day Israel/Palestine. After visiting two coastal cities and going to the top of Mount Carmel, we spent a few days on and around Lake Galilee, smelling the scents, listening to the birds, treading the areas and seeing the very landscapes where Jesus and his disciples made known the Kingdom of God through demonstrations of God’s mercy and power. 

Mt. Arbel, the highest point above the Sea of Galilee where Jesus may have ascended to the Father;

we spent some time here in mediation and prayer

Our first evening together in Galilee, a wonderful meal overlooking the Sea (or Lake) 

I was moved to tears leaving the very place on the shores of Galilee where Peter was restored by Jesus after Peter’s failure. Moving up to Dan in the high north, we stood at the entrance of the city which Abraham would have entered 4,000 years ago, also passing Caesarea Philippi, a place of a panoply of Greek and Roman gods and goddesses where Peter answered Jesus’ question about his identity, confessing to Jesus, “You are the Messiah.” Moving south, we travelled down into Jericho, down to the Dead Sea and then up again through the Judean Wilderness on our way up to Jerusalem. 

Tabgha, the place of seven springs where Jesus restores Peter
after his thrice-fold denial (see John 21)

Touching a stone from the original synagogue in Capernaum where
Jesus taught and healed

 I was deeply moved as we prayed alongside devout Jewish men, women and children at the Western Wall (aka Wailing Wall), and it was a blessing to exchange greetings in Arabic with young men in the Muslim Quarter of the Old City. We were mesmerized as we descended down from the Mount of Olives to the Garden of Gethsemane and, on our last day, as we walked the traditional Via Dolorosa (the Way of Suffering), following the general path Jesus would have taken from the traditional place of judgment outside the Temple (destroyed in 70 C.E.) to Golgotha, where he was crucified. At the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the site of execution and a traditional site for burial and resurrection, I was able, despite the masses, to meditate on Jesus’ agony and enter into the spirit of the place alongside Eastern Orthodox believers who spread their cloths and kissed a holy stone believed to have been in the tomb where Jesus lay. 

The iconic view of the Temple Mount from the top of the Mt. of Olives 

Devout Jewish men worshiping and praying
at the Western Wall (aka Wailing Wall)

Members of our large group on the Southern Steps, a place where Jesus and his
disciples would have entered the Temple

Inside the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, a large an ornate church shared by seven communities of faith; it is the traditional spot where Jesus would have been crucified, buried and raised 

 Kristi and I want to express our immense gratitude to Moody Bible Institute of Chicago, the leadership of our trip and the local guides and bus drivers for organizing this significant pilgrimage, and we are so grateful to have experienced it with Mom and Dad Bertolet. It was amazing to see fellow pilgrims from all over the world, from Brazil, Malaysia, Indonesia, China, Korea, Ghana, Ethiopia, Eastern Europe, the US, and other distant lands. May we treasure up in our hearts the things we have seen, heard and experienced as we continue to follow in the footsteps of the Risen One, the One who continues to tread through the steps of His broken and beloved people. Glory be to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.