What a remote place. It is very green here. Huge fruit bats, probably in the hundreds even thousands, fly over the camp at dusk. They are the size of crows or even larger and they make this strange screeching sound. I wish Mark Barb was here with me. I have never seen such beautiful birds in my life. With all of that though there comes the harsh reality of snakes of the deadly type, one of our missionaries killed two black mambas in the toilet not long ago. The heat and humidity is miserable, to do anything, even taking a drink of water, causes the body to sweat profusely. Then there are the people, my heart goes out to them. There reality is death and misery on a daily basis. Many have lost everything including there entire family to the war.I have only been here two days and I have already been very involved in pastoral care. I think the missionaries have lived in this environment long enough now, to be blind to everything around them, they have become so accustomed to their environment that they don’t even notice how difficult life is here. Praise The Lord for these good saints of God who are willing to endure so much for God’s call on their lives. Just beyond our camp are the missionary grave sites of people who have come here and given their lives to serve their Lord and bring the Gospel to these people. The last missionary that perished here was in 2008. Some of the other grave sites are of those men and women who died of malaria after only being here six months. Rob (Dr. Rob Congdon) told me that he goes there to have quiet times because it reminds him of the price that was paid to build a road for the missionaries who are here now. Praise God for people who have sacrificed so much for these forgotten people of the world. Praise God that He, The King of Kings and Lord of Lords has not forgotten these people or the missionaries who have been called to reach them. ‘
They are referring to me as “the Chaplain,” which makes me feel good.
The missionary life is so hard here. They live on top of each other and there is very little privacy. Add to that the daily grind of simply surviving and you have an equation where pastoral care is highly needed.
I have really enjoyed listing to Christian music on the IPad at night. It is such an encouragement to me. I have really enjoyed the times with my Lord while I have been here. His word is really all we need in difficult situations.
Be praying that my ears get unstopped up from the flight. I have had difficulty hearing since I got here and it would be great if my hearing were back normal. People keep laughing at me because they may be saying, “would you like a drink of water,” and I have this puzzled look on my face because I thought they said, “did you vote for jimmy carter?”
I just got back from what is called the bunj market. If you think african market you will know what I am talking about, just add, African Islamic market and everything is written in Arabic. We at at a small market restaurant, chickens and flies kept us company while we all dipped our hands into the same plate and ate and fellowshiped together. Everyone laughed when I asked if this place would pass the health code. Outside the smell of pigs and goats will meet your nose. This is indeed a very lost place, many of whom I would be willing to bet, have never heard the good news or even know who Jesus is. That is all for now. It is starting to pour the rain again, and I just heard thunder so I had better get off. Zulucharlie over and out.