The Significance of Senders

I didn’t realize Michael was listening (though he’s always listening) when a few moms were talking about jobs at the park today. All of a sudden he chimed in with, “my mommy is a missionary – and I’m a missionary too!”

He likes to tell Luke he’s a missionary, usually followed by, “so that means I need to come to work with you.”

We’ve talked a lot about how Jesus calls all of us to be missionaries, and to tell people about him. We also talk about how Daddy’s job is to train new missionaries how to tell people all over the world about Jesus.

Staying here to train those who go.

“How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!” – Romans 10:14-15

How are they to preach unless they are sent? It’s pretty huge. They can’t go if we’re not sending. And we absolutely 100 percent feel that this is right where God wants us right now. We have such a passion about our work walking new missionaries through the process of going, and a peace that this is our calling for now. Yet sometimes it feels so insignificant. Especially when we try to communicate our role here to our financial partners.

As a writer, I love to tell stories. And for four years, we were able to share some pretty incredible stories of God's goodness and power. We experienced firsthand pretty incredible stories of God at work. Now I sit to write our newsletters and don’t know where to start.

But lately I’ve started thinking about the stories that aren’t ours directly, but because of the training and wisdom and support we were able to provide, are happening all over the world. Stories of changed hearts from discipleship, breakthroughs in communities through sports ministry, hope and healing brought through medical care. Stories where our missionaries have experienced God in new ways as they’ve been stretched by cultural learning and adjustment.

Sometimes we hear these stories through their blogs and facebook and newsletters. Sometimes it’s a 6 a.m. Skype call to Japan or Senegal or an email asking for advice or prayer. It’s the praises in chapel for people getting on their first plane or when the visas for East Asia are finally granted.

Through their stories, we are reassured that our roles are significant. That we are part of the sending. So how do we communicate that to you, our support team and prayer warriors? It’s certainly not as romantic as heading off to Zambia to work with orphans and vulnerable children. And this is where I’ve struggled in communicating our needs since we returned from Zambia. Raising support is honestly one of the hardest and most humbling parts about being a missionary – and one of the hardest things we’ve ever had to do. Raising support here in the US is especially difficult, because the stories look different and life looks different.

But if I downplay our importance in the process – as senders – I feel like I’m also downplaying the importance of your role in the process – sending us. Your support and prayers are significant; because by standing with us, you are helping these folks take the Good News of Jesus Christ to the world. And my friend, that is something in which Jesus has called us all to play a part.

So thank you, for those of you who have supported us and prayed for us. We especially thank those of you who have continued to see the significance of this work even though our location and ministry have changed. Thank you to those who have started supporting us in the last two years. You have helped us see the significance in the work God has called us to here in the US. And thank you to those who are considering joining our financial team even now.

As we come up on the end of SIM’s fiscal year this month, we are sitting at about 82 percent of the support we need to sustain our ministry of training and equipping new missionaries. One-time gifts this month would be a huge help in making up that deficit. Of great need right now, though, is several friends to commit to new monthly giving to support our work here.

Please pray that the Lord would raise up new members to our financial team. Please prayerfully consider whether God might be leading you to join that team yourself. If not for us, we can direct you to other missionaries in various ministries who need financial support.

And he said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. – Luke 10:2

We are helping train laborers for the harvest. What an awesome opportunity – and you can be a part of it! Let’s be senders.

Let me know today if you want to join our team, or click here to sign up for regular giving (or to make a one-time gift).

We appreciate you. Your role as a sender is significant. Your prayers are incredibly significant. Thank you.

We've enjoyed working with this sweet family - who leave this week for Ethiopia!

 "I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making my prayer with joy, 5 because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now" - Philippians 1:3-4

the ones with it all together

In April 2014, a good friend and former pastor of ours committed suicide. The shocking news came about a week before we went back to Zambia, and we were barely able to process it before getting on the plane to head back into the trenches of full-time ministry in Africa.

Ministry can be hard. Isolating even. Though you serve so many, you can only be real and safe with a precious few. You’re the missionary, the pastor, the Bible study leader. You’re the called, the qualified, the one with all the answers, and the one with it all together.

You’re not, of course, but that’s the expectation we put on ourselves. So when the hard stuff piles up and you start to feel lonely and overwhelmed, where do you go?

Yes, the simple answer is “to God.” I mean, those of us in ministry have a direct channel to our Lord and King, right? It is absolutely true, that through the blood of Christ, we can approach the throne in prayer and confidence because Jesus is at the right hand of God and the Spirit is advocating for us.

But sometimes despair can just be too much and we need a friend, a confidant, or perhaps, a change of circumstances.

In a previous blog post, I shared a bit about the depression Luke was experiencing during our last term in Zambia. I remember standing back and knowing all I could do is support him and love him and pray for him as he wrestled with our calling and identity and our future.

What I didn’t share was that I was scared. I knew Luke was standing on a firm foundation in Christ and never once even thought about suicide. I saw his dedication to the Word and to our family. But having arrived on the field still processing the suicide of our friend, I was extra vigilant watching for signs of something more than a situational depression. I was afraid to go through what my dear friend went through, left alone with two kids to pick up the pieces, a pastor’s wife who was expected to have it all together and then her whole world just crumbled apart.

With a new baby in my arms and a fear in my heart, mama bear came out in full protection.

While I didn’t growl at anyone (I don’t think), I was very mindful of my words, and eyes wide open to the One who comes to steal and destroy. We have an Enemy who is very real and wants to stand in the way of the great things God wants to do in and through us.

Sometimes this mama bear was so focused on protecting family, though, that I may have hurt dear friends. Though Luke was back to his normal, goofy self almost instantaneously when we made our decision to leave Zambia (bringing further confirmation that we were making the right choice as the depression seemed more like oppression), we both still carried a lot of hurt, and at the time, my focus was so on preventing more hurt to us, that my controlling tendencies may have brought more hurt to others. I say this not knowing whom I may have upset in those first weeks back in the US. I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting as we approach the one-year mark from when we decided it was time to leave Zambia.

We had so many gracious hosts and generous friends welcoming us back and taking care of us, and I so apologize if our responses were not so gracious or our welcomes over-stayed. I’m sorry if we were guarded, or as we felt safe with you, if we overshared. I’m sorry if our brokenness shattered an ideal image you might have had of missionaries. Most of all, I’m sorry if our lives/words/choices made you think any less of Jesus.

I say all this as confession, as reflection, as explanation. I say it to thank you for being safe people as we picked up the pieces of our brokenness. I say it to ask you to be safe people for others around you who are in full-time ministry. It brings great joy, but it’s also hard.

We absolutely love what we are doing now to equip new missionaries. While we often yearn to be the ones going, we are confident that this is where God wants us and we see Him using our experiences in Zambia to better enable us to prepare and relate to the new missionaries we work with. Right now, it’s not so hard. But some days are trying. We are all far from being holy, and the sanctification process can be a burning fire, especially in a ministry setting.

So as I think about where we came from, and where we are now, I just wanted to share this. Pray for your pastors. Encourage the missionaries in your life. Take your pastor’s wife out for coffee and be a safe place for her to be real. Share your struggles and let us share ours – so we know we’re on equal ground. Baby-sit your local college ministry couple’s kids so they can have a date. Send a care package to an overseas missionary. And be available to listen, to pray, to counsel (if asked). Ministry life can be hard, and lonely.

Eighty percent of missionaries burn out and don’t finish their term. According to some statistics, 1,500 pastors leave their ministries every month because of burnout, conflict or moral failure. Seventy percent say they have no close friends. And pastors have one of the top three suicide rates of any profession.

We are thankful to still be in full-time ministry, though it looks a little different here. We are thankful for so many friends who have stuck with us through it all. We are thankful for your prayers and your encouragement. We are thankful for your friendship. Thank you. Please continue to pray that we – and others working to tell people about Jesus – may be vigilant and prepared with the full armor of God.

On leaving. On waiting. On growing.

There are days I really miss Zambia.

And not just because it’s crazy cold here and I want to throw open all the windows and doors and walk around in flip flops (though all of that is very very true).

But I miss the culture. The pace. The people. Our sweet little house with all its flaws. The music. The color. The red dust in every corner and crevice. Laundry and diapers drying on the line. Mulberries straight off the tree. The incredible sunsets over our backyard, easily visible from the kitchen sink. And Jungle and Chibi running like crazy around the yard as they did most afternoons as I prepared a from-scratch dinner with locally grown tomatoes and other goodies.

The simplicity of life, despite the complexity of living in a culture not our own.

We loved Zambia. We still love Zambia. And quite honestly, as we continue in this period of not knowing what’s next for us here, I kinda wish we hadn’t left when we did.

And yet, we knew it was time.

There were such a myriad of factors and so much of the reasoning can’t be explained in a letter or blog (but we’d love to share more over dinner or coffee sometime)! We spent the entire eight months we were back (and honestly, the entire year and a half before that) asking God if that was really where He wanted us. For seven months we just heard “wait.” For seven months, I watched my husband pour himself into our ministry and hit dead end after dead end, wondering if the resistance was from God or the Enemy. I watched him wrestle with our call, our place, our identity, and ultimately, with God (remaining faithful through it all). I watched him get hurt in relationships that we expected to bring life. I watched as daily frustrations and difficulties became unmanageable and debilitating. I watched him battle loneliness that I could not fill and depression that I could not fix.

And I prayed. Because that’s all I really could do. I didn’t pray that we stay or that we go. I just prayed that in the right time, we would know, and that there would be peace in the knowing.

So on that one day in late October when all of it seemed particularly hard and getting out of bed was daunting enough a task to send Luke right back under the covers, we prayed again. And together we felt God was saying “go.” By the end of that day, that “Go” came louder and clearer. And then there was peace. We decided it was, in fact, time.

Funny thing (or God thing) is that when we made the decision officially, there was a light and passion in Luke that I had not seen in many many months. Looking back, it’s as if the depression was more of an oppression. 

Now, going without knowing where we were going was not exactly an easy or straightforward thing. We don’t like not knowing. We like planning. Doing. Having “all our ducks in a row” (whatever that actually means). But just as the Lord told Abram to leave everything to Go “to the land I will show you”, we knew we were just supposed to go, and God would eventually show us where.

From there we think things got a little muddled. In fact, we probably burned a few bridges from unclear or hasty communication. For that, we are deeply sorry. When you’re telling a hundred different people bits and pieces, the whole picture gets a bit blurry and convoluted. Hopes came across as facts. Leaving came across as quitting altogether. And despite months and months of prayer and communication with dear friends, it all happened very fast once the decision was made. So here are a few logistical details:

Luke’s work permit was set to expire January 6, so we knew it would be best to go before that rather than reapply. Then it just made sense to try to leave before Christmas to be with family for the holidays, especially with Michael’s first birthday on Christmas. Plane tickets get more expensive as you get closer to the holidays, and we knew we would need time to fight jetlag and prepare for Christmas. So we booked our tickets for December 9.

Those last several weeks were busy with selling, giving, packing, and arranging. They were also full of meaningful farewells, joyful celebrations of friendship and ministry, and good closure on that chapter of our lives. Every day, we miss something about Zambia, but we don’t question the decision to leave. We weren’t excited to come back, but we are excited for what God has next.

We did not leaving knowing we had a definite position here, and we are still in limbo as far as that goes. We definitely aren’t quitting missions. Our hearts are still very much for sharing Jesus with those who have never heard the Gospel. We won’t even say we’re done overseas (though, for the time being, we feel we need to be Stateside). We’re just waiting to learn the what, where, how, when and who of it all (living out of suitcases and trying to make sense of life).

Let me tell you. The waiting is hard. We spent February at a conference in Michigan for missionaries who have faced burnout or other difficulties. This was a healing time. A renewing time. We were affirmed in our decision to leave and equipped for whatever lies ahead. During a seminar on suffering, one thing struck me more than anything else. So often, Romans 8:28 is used as a band-aid to “comfort” those in hard circumstances – you know, that “all things work together for good.”

Well, they do. And not in a, tomorrow, life will be rosy sort of way. Life may still be hard. It may get harder. God uses that. He uses it in ways we will never know to bring results we will never see.  But He also uses that for the good in us. Our hardship draws us to Him. It sanctifies us – makes us more and more Christlike – and for that we truly can rejoice in the trials.

We don’t regret our time in Zambia. We don’t regret leaving Zambia. We don’t even regret all the junky stuff we experienced along the way, as we know:

…“suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts...” (Romans 5:3-5)

That, my friends, is good. 

*so that was intended to be a lighthearted blog about missing Zambia, but I apparently had a lot more to say. That probably wouldn't be a problem if I updated the blog a bit more often. Thanks for reading, though! Perhaps Luke will have more to say....*

My Great Ambition

You want to hear something crazy? Being a wife and mom is hard work. Before you get alarmed, I’m not saying I don’t love my husband and child. No, my love for them is the very reason the job is so hard. Because sometimes loving them just doesn’t seem like enough.

You see, the last month has been a struggle. Me, I feel like I’m doing great – but I also feel like I’m the one holding all the pieces together. Some of it is the normal stuff I’m sure every mom goes through: when baby is teething and fighting sleep and no matter how much rocking, how many songs, and how much well-intentioned advice I try to apply, nothing makes him feel better. I want to be able to fix it all and make my sweet baby boy happy and healthy and sometimes all I can do is love him, pray for him, and let him know that I will be with him through the discomfort and yucky days.

How do I do the same for my husband? I’m trying my hardest to meet Michael’s needs and sometimes missing the fact that Luke desperately needs my attention, care, and love as well. Don’t get me wrong –Luke is healthy and fully capable of feeding and washing himself and definitely doesn’t fight sleep. But as we settle back into life and ministry here and my extroverted husband feels virtually friendless and exhausted before he even starts, he needs my tender care and support.

At my ladies Bible study this week a friend challenged us to pray about our ambitions. What are our ambitions for this next year? What has God placed on our hearts to do for Him this year? Well, normally I jump on those big hairy audacious tasks about taking His Word to the nations and helping His Name be known (as any good missionary would do), but man, when I started praying, God made it so clear to me: 

"Love your husband. Forget the big tasks – I’ll give those to Luke. You need to be there to love him, support him, pray for him and give him a place of safety and respite at the end of the day. Your job right now is to be his helpmate."

“But for Adam, no suitable helper was found. So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.” – Genesis 2:20b-22

 For many women, this may seem so easy. But if you know me, you know I’m a doer. I want to be on the front lines for the Kingdom. So to be given the task of essentially doing less is quite ambitious for me. Pray for your husband. Be there for him. Aside from your tasks in the home, don’t do anything – be there.

So when you ask me what my ministry is here, my answer may surprise you. Yes, I will still be involved in the ladies Bible study and I’m sure I will dabble in bits of this and that at times, but my number one role right now is wife and mom. The Lord has put it on my heart that our ministry (collectively, as a family), will be far more fruitful if I stand behind my husband than if I take off running alongside or ahead thinking that by doing so we will accomplish more.

And man is this a challenge for me. I want to do do do! And I find myself quick to push Luke to do do do more to make up for my lack of doing. I was the runner and he was the cheerleader – and if you know me you know I laugh when people ask if I was also a cheerleader. I don’t cheer from the sidelines. I want to be cheered by millions of adoring fans as I list off all of my accomplishments from the day/week/year.

But again I hear that still small voice calling on me to just love him, pray for him, care for him, and let him know I’m his biggest cheerleader and fan. After all, it’s not for my glory. It’s not for Luke’s glory either. Our roles here – our lives – are 100 percent for the Glory of God. And according to the Father Himself, my life of washing diapers and nursing Michael and cooking meals and buying groceries and praying for my husband and child can bring Him glory as well, and is more than enough.

“Her husband has full confidence in her

and lacks nothing of value.

She brings him good, not harm,

all the days of her life…

She gets up while it is still dark;

she provides food for her family

and portions for her servant girls….

Her husband is respected at the city gate,

where he takes his seat among the elders of the land….

She speaks with wisdom,

And faithful instruction is on her tongue.

She watches over the affairs of her household

and does not eat the bread of idleness.

Her children arise and call her blessed;

Her husband also, and he praises her.”

-excerpts from Proverbs 31

May my husband have full confidence in me as I care for our family.  I know I will have to do some serious growing as I battle issues of selfishness and self-worth, but as we wrote in our most recent prayer letter, our worth is in Him. If His will for me right now is to rock my teething child to sleep, plan dinner and pray, pray and pray some more, then who am I to question if that is enough? He has provided, and He will do the rest.

What is His ambition for you this year?

One Cup at a Time

It’s hard to see people suffering. For many of us, our very nature wants to jump in, meet the need, and end the hurt in the world. But one thing we had to learn early on to survive the mission field, is that we as individuals cannot physically help everyone in need.

Shortly before we left for Zambia, my grandfather scoffed at the idea of us helping impoverished people in Africa. There is so much need. How were we going to make a difference? He compared it to the seemingly ridiculous idea of draining the ocean one cup at a time. I told him, “Then I’m going to take my cup and get to work and hope that others join me; and when I can’t go on, I’ll hope that more will pick up where I left off.”

Perhaps the overwhelming need in Zambia – for food, shelter, clothing, medical care, role models, education, and the love of Jesus – has desensitized us. Sometimes you have to put blinders on as you walk through town just to make it through your day without giving up. And with the tornadoes that whipped through central Illinois last Sunday and destroyed so many of our friends' homes, we find ourselves doing the same thing for the first time on this side of the world, just to get through it without giving up.

It’s not that we’re ignoring the need. It’s just that if we look at all the devastation, all the need, all the hurt, all the people who’ve lost everything, we get too overwhelmed to be effective in the task before us. It becomes paralyzing.

At seven months pregnant, my options for helping are fairly limited (no piling up large debris by the roadside for me), and I’d more likely be in the way than a helpful blessing in such settings. So I’ve helped where I can – taking inventory of a friend’s battered home, listening, praying.

The beauty of it all is, that as we all give what we can where we can, the needs are met. There has been a tremendous outpouring of support from the entire community, state, and nation in response to these tornadoes. Everyone is doing something. And a lot of somethings add up to everything. I personally may not be able to help everyone, but I can help someone. And as we all help someone, a lot of someones are helped. 

That’s how it works here. That’s how it works in Zambia. We can’t feed every hungry mouth or clothe every underdressed child. But we can help the one. We can serve where we are able. We can train others like our Sports Friends coaches to do the same and they can help the ones in their lives. No one can meet every need. But everyone can meet a need.

Whether it’s contributing to hurricane relief in the Philippines, helping clean up from the tornadoes in the Midwest, sponsoring a Sports Friends coach, serving as a missionary, partnering with a missionary, or committing to prayer, you too can meet a need. And there are plenty of needs to be met, that’s for sure. But hey, I’ll do my small part as part of the body. As a laborer in the harvest. Will you do yours?

“When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.” – Matthew 9:36-38

With that, I’m reminded of the story of the man and the starfish.

“While wandering a deserted beach at dawn, stagnant in my work, I saw a man in the distance bending and throwing as he walked the endless stretch toward me. As he came near, I could see that he was throwing starfish, abandoned on the sand by the tide, back into the sea. When he was close enough I asked him why he was working so hard at this strange task. He said that the sun would dry the starfish and they would die. I said to him that I thought he was foolish. there were thousands of starfish on miles and miles of beach. One man alone could never make a difference. He smiled as he picked up the next starfish. Hurling it far into the sea he said, 'It makes a difference for this one.' I abandoned my writing and spent the morning throwing starfish.” ― Loren Eiseley

Let’s make a difference for the one. One cup at a time.

and I cried

When I called Mama Yoba at midnight and she told me that a well-trained birthing nurse was able to remove the placenta and that Regina was recovering, I cried.  I cried tears of joy and relief that my dear friend would be okay.  I cried tears of thanksgiving to God for hearing our prayers.  I cried tears of exhaustion.  I told Luke that I think the tears I cried were tears of all the stress and exhaustion of the last two-plus years, finally spilling over.  The dam broke, my strength was gone, and I cried.

I didn't know Regina was pregnant until about a month ago.  We hadn't been together as much and she hid it well.  When she finally told me, she was ashamed, saying it was a mistake and they hadn't been responsible.  It came as quite a surprise, as I had just recommended that another missionary call Regina to speak on purity at a girls’ workshop.  But I assured her I was there for her.  She was my friend.  And of all the Zambians I have come to know and love, Regina is probably the only real, mutual friend – almost a sister.  

Tuesday I decided to walk to Kimasala to visit Regina and Mama Yoba and some of the others out by Lusa.  I arrived to find out that Mama Yoba was in Lusaka and Regina had gone to the hospital Monday afternoon with severe cramping. When I visited Tuesday evening, she had not actually seen a doctor, but was feeling a bit better.  Wednesday afternoon I stopped in again, and she had been discharged – never seeing a doctor, having an ultrasound or anything.  Thursday morning I received a text message from her brother saying she had been sick all night.  I called and she said she wanted to rest a bit, but a couple of hours later she wanted to go to the hospital.  I picked her up, along with her cousin and the baby’s father and we went to a small clinic in town that specialized in ultrasound.  The technician said her amniotic fluid was dangerously low and we should go straight to the hospital.

Back in the overcrowded maternity ward, Regina was given one of the last available beds.  An initial exam determined she was in pre-term labor, and that was that.  There was no medication, no further analysis.  They were just going to let the labor carry on (though only seven months pregnant).  Now most women are completely alone through the labor process.  With 3-6 beds in an area, they lay there in the heat and fight through the contractions quietly and alone, until it’s time to actually give birth (which may be why many women prefer to deliver in their homes).

Visiting hours are very strict: 6-7 a.m. and 5-6 p.m.  I stood by Regina for the first three hours, holding her hand, fanning her with a notebook, praying fervently, and slowly noticing I was the only “visitor” in the area.  At 3 p.m., I went outside to ask her friend and her cousin if one of them would stay with her for a bit while I went to get a bite to eat and put gas in the car (there had been a shortage and I was running on fumes).  They told me they wouldn't be allowed - that I was only allowed because I was white.  I think the one friend made her way at least for some of the time because she was nine months pregnant and could easily pass as a patient.

I returned for 5 p.m. visiting hours, only to find out Regina had gone into the labor room.  This is a room with three beds side-by-side, in which the women lay completely naked through the birthing process.  All the women are expected to bring a sheet of plastic, gloves, and other supplies for use by the hospital.  By 5:20, Regina had given birth to a 3 pound baby girl.  The baby was taken straight to an incubator, but Regina was not in the clear yet.  A group of us waited until 7:00, but Regina had still not delivered the placenta.  One of the older caregivers for Lusa convinced the nurses to allow her to stay, but the rest of us were forced to go.  Mama Yoba was still in transit from Lusaka, and most of the day I was praying she would arrive quickly.  She called me from the bus shortly after I arrived home pleading with me to do something – to tell the nurses they needed to help Regina.  I didn't know what to do.  There was nothing I could do.

And I was so afraid I would lose my friend.  I even told Luke that if something happened to her, I didn't think I could come back to Zambia. I couldn't handle it.

After a hot shower and a few hours of tossing and turning but not sleeping, I called Mama Yoba.  Regina was fine.  Everything was going to be okay.  And I cried.

Thank you Jesus. 

Our God is Greater

Do you ever feel under attack?  Like something or someone is out to thwart and discourage your every effort? As we prepared for our first ever Sports Friends Basic Training in Zambia, we were fairly convinced the devil was doing everything in his power to mess things up, throw us off, and make us give it all up.

But our God is greater. 

This seemed to be a theme over the last several weeks.  Our God is greater.  In fact, several times I found myself singing Chris Tomlin’s chorus…

“Our God us greater, our God is stronger
God you are higher than any other
Our God is healer, awesome in power Our God…
and if our God is for us, then who could ever stop us,
And if our God is with us, then what could stand against?”

(Intermittently, I would sing part of the chorus from an old secular song: 

“Ain't nothing going to break my stride, nobody’s gonna slow me down.
Oh no, I've got to keep on moving….”)

As Luke drove to the airport to pick up our trainers from Ethiopia and the US, I was at home planning meals for the team and about to bake cookies – and our oven almost caught on fire. We stressed.  We worried.  Luke tried to squeeze in a bit of shopping for an oven, and gave up and drove the guys the 10-plus hours to Solwezi.  In the meantime, I found the needed replacement part and was able to fix the oven, feeling more empowered and thankful for God’s provision than I would have had the oven never broken. Our God is greater.

The week before that, we had three subsequent plumbing emergencies that flooded half the house.  Though stressful, we were able to fix the breaks, and praised God they happened when they did, and not with four men sharing one bathroom. Our God is greater.

As we printed training materials for the Basic Training, Luke took everything to a printer three hours drive from our house as he drove to Lusaka, only to find out they were struggling with the cover page.  Though stressful, it was taken care of and we saved $200 on printing by going to them. Our God is greater.

Buying supplies to feed our 46 coaches for the week of training, I quickly learned that there was no mealie meal available in town.  The first shortage in our two-plus years here.  Mealie meal is the base for nshima, the staple food in Zambia.  If you haven’t eaten nshima, you haven’t eaten.  Though we never found a large quantity, and I spent many hours driving around town looking, we found enough small bags over the course of the week to be just enough to feed the participants.  Not more, not less.  Enough.  Our God is greater.

Leading up to the training, we had several days with no rain.  On the morning the participants were set to arrive, the skies opened up and we thought many would delay or not come at all.  As lunch rolled around and we prepared for the first session, the sun came out.  Some did come late, but almost everyone still showed up at the start of the first session.  Our God is greater.

Speaking of rain, we had several of the biggest, loudest, most intense storms over the course of the week.  With indoor training taking part under an aluminum roof, and several sessions of on-field training, that normally wouldn't bode well. Even so, every time the coaches took the field, the sun shone brightly.  Every time the rain and hail pounded the roof so loud we couldn't hear our own voices, it was during meals and break times. Our God is greater.

Sometimes lack of water and electricity wear on our last nerves. We rarely had enough water at home for everyone to shower, and the power seemed to be going off for big chunks each day.  While this usually frustrates us to no end, we were incredibly humbled when the power went off one night just as we prepared to show a video, and the entire room broke into an extensive praise and worship session. (See video – well, listen to the video.  You won’t see much)

Even the last day, as I woke up with a fever, headache, and major congestion, we were grateful I was the one sick and not the trainers.  Even so, the littlest things were tipping me off.  I arrived at the hall with cakes to celebrate the end of the training, and decided to help Mama Yoba (our cook and host for the week) properly shred a cabbage on a mandolin.  Instead, I sliced a huge chunk off the tip of my finger and was bleeding profusely.  Mama Yoba is a certified caregiver and Luke was free at that point and I was able to get to a local village clinic for bandaging and such.  I’m not sure why (maybe because I was busy singing “Our God is Greater”), but after that, I was actually in a better mood than when we started!  We were back in time to watch the coaches perform hilarious skits depicting what they had learned about Church-Centered Sports Ministry, and we are so excited to see Sports Friends take off in Zambia! Our God is greater.

Typing this blog with one finger down is interesting, but hey, at least the power is on! There are so many more examples we could give from the week where Satan tried to trip us up, but...

Our God is so much Greater.

Zambia's first Sports Friends coaches!

Lost in Translation

Sometimes it seems there are a hundred English words for every one Kikaonde word.  Seriously.  Take mambo for example… it can mean affair, fact, matter, or it can be used for reason, because, regarding.  It’s often used for sermon, speech, word, or TheWord.  But then, it can also mean sin, guilt, fault, offense, or trouble. So we use the same Kikaonde word to describe sin as we do for The Word.  Riiiight. Something was lost in translation.

Granted, the meaning of most words are fairly easy to figure out based on their context (though kesha, meaning either yesterday or tomorrow will forever confuse us), but it certainly makes translating Sports Friends materials into Kikaonde interesting.  And I’m realizing that English speakers like to say what is essentially the same thing multiple ways.

Whenever Regina, my friend and language partner, is free, I hike off to Kimasala to sit and pour over the stacks of pages Luke has asked me to translate.  Sometimes it is straightforward – but more often we find ourselves in lengthy discussions as I explain the context of a word’s use and try to think of every English synonym for it hoping we’ll find the right Kikaonde word to fit. 

Here’s one of Luke’s sentences we just kind of had to laugh at:

“To minister”literally means “to care for” or “to serve.”  

Imagine our difficulty when all three of those words are best translated into the same Kikaonde word. Luckily we found another way to say to serve and didn’t have to scrap the line completely.

It was an easy assumption to make that my Kikaonde and Regina’s English would greatly improve as we work through these materials.  What I did not expect was the spiritual growth that would result.  The first two sets of information we worked through were Bible studies Luke wrote based on the goal and training statement of Sports Friends.  As I was focused on plowing through the documents, I didn’t realize at first the way Regina was soaking in each scripture, question and reference.  One day I suggested we stop so I could start my walk home, and she wanted to go just a little bit further because she wanted to know what was next! 

“This is very interesting and I’m learning so much,” she said, expressing that the studies will definitely lead to spiritual growth for their intended audience.

And apparently for an unintended audience.  It’s amazing what the Lord will do beyond the scope of our plans and ideas.  What I thought would be a simple time of translation of materials for future Sports Friends coaches and church leaders has actually become an opportunity to cultivate growth in my translator.  God’s sovereign plan is never lost in translation.

A Moses Moment

I feel a bit like Moses, but not so much in that good, saw God’s face, led His people out of slavery sort of way.  More like in the being used by God can be difficult and confusing, especially when you try to do it on your own sort of way.

In Exodus 17:1-7 we read that, after wandering out into the wilderness, the Israelites began grumbling because there was no water to drink.  So, God told Moses to go before the people with a group of elders, and, using his staff, he was to strike the rock.  Moses did as the Lord commanded, and water flowed from the rock.

Fast forward 40 or so years.  The Israelites are on the edge of the Promised Land, and again they are without water.  In Numbers 20:2-13 we read that Moses and Aaron again asked God what to do.  He told them to go before the people, taking the staff, but this time Moses was to speak to the rock, not strike it.  So they go before the people, and look what Moses does starting in verse 10b:

“[Moses] said to them, ‘Hear now, you rebels: shall we bring water for you out of this rock?’  And Moses lifted up his hand and struck the rock with his staff twice, and water came out abundantly, and the congregation drank, and their livestock.”

God told Moses to speak to the rock.  But Moses, finding himself in a similar position to one he’d been in before, took it into his own hands.  He knew that the last time he was supposed to strike the rock; why would this time be different?  So, rather than relying on God and trusting His guidance, Moses did what he thought was right.  He struck the rock.  And water came flowing out.

Before moving on, I can’t help but notice that, despite the disobedience of Moses, God still provided for His people.  Blessings flowing from our actions do not indicate that God is pleased with us or that He is condoning or endorsing our ministry.  A growing ministry is not necessarily one that has been given God’s stamp of approval.  He might choose to bless the people despite our disobedience or shortcomings, but we must never mistake this for God’s approval of our actions.  He will always act so that He receives the most glory, whether we are obedient or not.

Look how God responded to Moses’ actions.  Yes, the people got water, but look at verse 12:

“And the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, ‘Because you did not believe in Me, to uphold Me as holy in the eyes of the people of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them.’  These are the waters of Meribah, where the people of Israel quarreled with the Lord, and through them He showed Himself holy.”

Their disobedience was not without consequence.  Because they tried to do it on their own, Moses and Aaron were kept from entering the Promised Land.  Yes, the people got water.  Yes, Moses and Aaron got punished.  Most importantly, God used this event to show that He is holy.  He made sure that He – not Moses – received the glory.

Why do I use this story to illustrate how I feel like Moses?  Because my actions seem to mirror his.  When we started our first Sports Friends team in Kimasala, we bathed our efforts in prayer.  We prayed for a coach; we prayed for kids; we prayed for the ministry.  And we saw God do amazing things.

Now, three-plus months later, we are looking at starting another three teams.  Yes, we have prayed about it, but with a level of prideful confidence.  I “know” what works in getting a team started.  I’ve seen it work before.  So I’ve tried to replicate those steps with these new teams.  I’ve tried to do it the way I think God wants it to be done, but I’ve assumed God wants to do it the same way.  The thing is, I’m trying to rely upon my own efforts rather than God’s actions.

And what has been the result of my efforts?

Failure upon failure.  Frustration upon frustration.  The first team started in less than two weeks; we have not seen a new team form in almost two months of trying to get one started.  Not only that, the coach of the first team recently moved away, leaving us with no active teams at all right now.  We’ve been working at this ministry for months now, and we have nothing to show for it.

Because, despite trying to say otherwise, I’ve been seeking the glory that only belongs to God.

As with Moses, God has put a big task before me and called me to lead under His guidance.  Like Moses, I have seen God do amazing things.  And like Moses, I try to take things into my own hands and rob God of the glory due His name.

Hopefully this time I actually learn the lesson and rely upon Him.

From Football to False Prophets - a Conversation

“So, what are you doing here?” asked the young man I was driving from Kimasala to town.

An appropriate question to consider a year and a half after moving to Zambia.  My response would have been different a year ago, 9 months ago, even 6 months ago.  Much has changed in our plans and in our ministry.  So, I answered him according to the most recent development.

“We are working with local churches to establish sports ministries.  I help to train sports ministers from the church to start teams with the children in the community, build relationships with the kids, and then share Christ with them.”  I probably wasn’t so eloquent, but it was along those lines.

As I drove down the pot-holed road to town, we started talking about the churches in Zambia.  I explained that we had planned to join a local church when we arrived, but found a great need for a church among the non-Zambian community, many of whom do not leave their secluded, fenced, and guarded golf estate on the edge of town.  My passenger seemed intrigued by this and asked a few questions before dropping an unexpected one.

“Are you a Christian?”

My first reaction was to say, “Uh, duh.”  But, I’ve learned to be a bit more polite than that, so I answered with a respectful, “Yes.”

“I mean, are you born again?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.  We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t.”

And this is where it started to get interesting.  This young man – a teacher at a local school – began to tell me that church leaders need to be more powerful, and that churches will continue to fail unless the leaders start doing miracles.  He went on to tell me that performing miracles is a sign of a true believer.

“Just look at TB Joshua,” he said.

I didn’t know how to respond to that last comment, and before I had the chance to come up with anything, I came across a local pastor I’ve been working with to start a team at his church.  When I stopped to offer the pastor a ride, my first passenger hopped out of the car and walked off, leaving the conversation hanging and me pondering his comments.

That was Saturday.  Now, three days later, I still can’t wrap my head around this conversation.  Not because he made solid points.  I got lost somewhere in the middle of his monologue.  What I am struggling with is the amount of bad theology prevalent in other countries that is finding a strong foothold here among the churches of Zambia as well.  The prosperity gospel, which teaches that, if you believe in Jesus Christ, you will be blessed with health and wealth, and, subsequently, failure to have health or wealth is a sign of lack of faith, is a growing trend here, only exacerbated by the large (and wealthy) churches that preach this belief.  Similarly, the “God-olatry” of the name-it-and-claim-it teachers is ravaging the spiritual lives of many here and at home.  There is a fine line between praying in faith that God will act, and TELLING God what He is going to do, and I fear that the line was crossed long ago.  Then there are the TV personalities like “Prophet” TB Joshua, whose “acts of healing” and “prophecies” have repeatedly been proven false or staged, yet who still command a massive international following.  If somebody claims to be a prophet, speaking the very words of God, and then those words turn out to be untrue, does that not mean that he is a false prophet?

If you were expecting me to conclude with some great theological statement, I am sorry to disappoint.  If nothing else, this episode has forced me to refocus my eyes upon Christ and Christ alone, and it has reminded me that, just because there are churches at every corner does NOT mean that the Gospel is proclaimed throughout this land.  There is still work to be done here.

And we feel so blessed to be a part of it.

A Look Ahead - Changes

If you read my last post, you’ll see that my time in Ethiopia was amazing and it gave us a lot to think and pray about now that I’m back.  Many of you have been asking what all this means for us and our ministry here in Zambia.  And what’s this talk about going to Thailand?  Well, keep reading…

First of all, as of right now we are NOT MOVING.  I wanted to say that up front because, well, you will probably see news about me (Luke) doing a lot of traveling in the months to come.  So don’t freak.  We’re not leaving.

That said, the months ahead are going to involve a great deal of changes as we look at incorporating Sports Friends into the ministry efforts of SIM Zambia.  I will be more or less coordinating all this on the Zambia side, working closely with the international trainers and developers as we start to share the vision with Zambian church leaders.  These initial stages involve Skype conference calls (woohoo for technology!), some travel within Zambia to meet with SIM Zambia leadership, and even a few more international trips, including one to Thailand in January.

 

What about Tiffany?  And what about Lusa?  While these new responsibilities will keep me quite busy and away from Lusa, I am still available to them as needed.  Tiffany, however, will continue working there, building relationships with the handful of volunteers, working directly with Regina (the Lusa administrator), and teaching budgeting and nutrition lessons.  Through time her role there may diminish, but not yet.

Hopefully this answered some of your questions.

So, how can you help out?  I’m glad you asked!

•  Please be praying for us during the days ahead, as I have a great deal of preliminary work to get done.  Pray for stamina and focus.
• Please pray for our upcoming trip to Thailand, that we may get to and from safely and that our time there may be fruitful and enlightening
• Please pray for the people of Zambia, that their hearts might be open and receptive to the Gospel
• Please pray that the funds come into our ministry account to cover the costs of the trip to Thailand and another potential training trip to Ethiopia in April (more on that one later)

 Thank you all!  You are more of a blessing to us than you will ever know!

A Look at Village Life... Part 5

May 4

So I just “preached” for the Lubofu church’s women’s meeting. I told Mrs. Yanjisha that I don’t preach – I just talk and share. Anyway, it was interesting because Mrs. Berendsen was interpreting for me. Seems like that went okay. I found myself analyzing my talk afterward – was there enough about Christ? Did I connect everything? Did they get it? Did I use too many verses? But that’s just the me coming out. I spoke about God’s beauty in creation – the promises he makes in scripture that are shown in the sky (Abram – in the multitude of stars; Noah – the rainbow) and how those proimises were for us as well. I shared from Psalm 19 and encouraged them that no matter what developments and man-made treasures are available, to keep their focus on Heavenly treasure. I also encouraged them to gaze upon God’s beauty in the stars and the sun and the rainbows and in each other. He created us women as beautiful creations. He also created us as Christians to shine more and more brightly until the SON shines in full glory at His return.

Afterward I realized that this is ministry – sharing our hearts, helping chop vegetables and sweep floors; taking chairs when offered and allowing people to serve us; sorting beans; visiting; and sharing the Word of God in the midst of it all.

... The People of Zambia

Serving and Loving the People of Zambia. This is the phrase that is on most of our prayer letters, photos and other materials. This has been the plan, the goal, the intent of preparing for ministry here. Little did we realize that the “People of Zambia” hardly includes just native Zambians.

Since arriving here 2 ½ months ago, we have had opportunities to serve and love – and be served and loved by – people from Zambia, Zimbabwe, Tanzania, South Africa, Ghana, Ethiopia, Angola, New Zealand, Malaysia, Korea, India, Ireland, United Kingdom, Germany, Holland, Canada, and the US. And every expectation or stereotype I might have had of people from each of those countries has been stripped away. And though we and many of our expatriate friends, and fellow missionaries find ourselves immersed in Zambian culture, many of these individuals seem to be living in a completely different world.

The copper mining industry has really grown in Zambia, and our town of Solwezi is no exception. The mines certainly employ many Zambians, but there are also “experts” brought in from all over the world. Some, like many of our white Zimbabwean friends, have fled their countries and started life over here in Zambia. Others know their time here is only temporary until projects are completed and they return to their respective countries or move on to a different project. But while here, they form a community – or two very distinct communities. There are the miners who are Christians, and those who aren’t. They all live at what is called the Kansanshi Golf Estate, a gated, guarded, manicured facility complete with an 18-hole golf course, clubhouse, pool and gym. The houses are very westernized with modern appliances, and a lot of their food needs are shipped directly in from Lusaka, or even Johannesburg, so they rarely have to venture into town or away from the estate.

Just a side note here: we don’t look down on our friends at the mines for their lifestyle. They’re here to work, and they work very hard and tirelessly. We actually appreciate having the mining estate, because having both grown up in water, we dry out if we don’t get a good swim in now and then!

Though there are English-speaking churches in Solwezi, the Christian community at the mining estate has started a home church fellowship. There is no one who is trained theologically, but their faith is real and a few of the men have taken turns sharing a message and leading the group in songs and prayer each week. They also have a women’s group that meets and discusses Christian books (currently they’re reading The Five Love Languages). Though they tend to stay there on the complex, they have offered resources, assistance, and friendship to us (even frontline spray for our dog!). While their fellowship is strong, there seems to be a divide between those who believe, and the other miners who spend much of their free time at the clubhouse bar, and little effort to reach the others for Christ.

I write this because we’re realizing more and more that God has plans for us that go far beyond the Kaonde people of Solwezi. Though our primary ministry is focused on training, teaching, discipling and loving our friends in the villages around Solwezi, as white, American missionaries living in town, we are also in a unique position to reach out to and serve those on the other end of the economical and social structure. And what’s more, to possibly help bridge the gap between the two. I hate distinguishing people based on the color of their skin, but racism and stereotypes are very strong here, and the wealthy, white folks from Zambia and other parts of Africa (mostly of British roots) have definitive attitudes toward the poor, black population and vice versa. But God’s love for both groups – all people – is very real, and we will be honored if He uses us to demonstrate that love here through our interactions with people from all classes and nationalities. There will likely be opportunities for Luke to “preach” in the home church fellowship, and I have gotten involved in the ladies Bible study. Yet, we speak Kikaonde to their gardeners, maids and guards, dress in our long pants and skirts, and share of the positive things God is doing in the villages and homes of our Zambian friends. We also seek to be lights to the other miners we see around – those outside the Christian fellowship. (Additionally, we sometimes find ourselves working side by side with Peace Corp volunteers in the village – a HUGE opportunity for sharing Christ.)

Isn’t God amazing? It’s like our Cameroonian pastor in Dallas – there in the US to reach other Africans for Christ – culturally equipped in a way an American pastor would not be. Perhaps we weren’t just called to Africa to love our African brothers and sisters, but also so that we might reach other Westerners for Christ in the process. May we keep our eyes and hearts and home open to the ways God intends to use us here in Zambia!

Opportunity Knocks... Literally

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” Hebrews 13:15

Many people say they would gladly do mission work or volunteer or help someone if they knew of the needs – if the opportunities presented themselves.

Here in Zambia, opportunity knocks, multiple times a day.

During our initial period of language learning, we have strict orders from our directors not to commit to any specific ministry. No teaching, no set schedule, no planned activities. We have quickly discovered that language learning itself is a ministry, as is simply living here. Here in Zambia; here in Solwezi; here in what has been known as a mission house for 40 or so years.

Take yesterday (Friday), for example. We started our day at a grammar lesson with one of the veteran missionaries here and thought we would spend our afternoon reviewing our lesson and relaxing a bit, as Monday through Thursday we typically walk out to Kimasala (where our primary ministry will be based) to meet with our local language helpers. We have a gentleman who helps with some of the slashing (cutting the grass) and work around the house, and because his birthday is today, I sent him home with a bag of rice and a bag of beans for his family. They, like the majority of the Zambians, typically only eat nshima (balls made from ground maize, water and salt). Beans and rice are luxuries. I was humbled and shocked when he knelt down to thank me. Have we ever been that grateful for rice and beans?

Shortly after he left, a young woman visited who had been close to the Bruce family. Nyawa works with neglected elderly people in a nearby area, but is from Lusaka (the capital) originally. She came seeking encouragement, friendship, and advice regarding her ministry, as well as a relationship she is in. While she was here, Charlie, who will be moving into the cottage on our property, came to store some things in our home while his is under renovation. Shortly after Nyawa left and the others had parted, our friend Sharpy arrived to visit and tell us about his work at the local newspaper. Later, just as we were ready to go to bed, we had another visitor who has some items stored by our carport to talk about some struggles with his ministry. Even today, we’ve had two unexpected visitors already.

There are days when visitors arrive just as we sit down for lunch or dinner – we hear it’s fairly common and have learned to cook extra. There are days when our time in Kimasala goes hours longer than planned because people are looking for a listening ear, a word of advice, or a lesson in English. . We take plastic grocery bags and Styrofoam trays from meat with us so that the ladies at Lusa can use the bags to hold maize they’ve grown and the trays to display earrings they’ve made to sell to make money for the ministries at Lusa. Things we would have just thrown away become a viable part of their livelihood.

It’s both exhausting and exhilarating. And all the while, people are ministering right back to us in amazing ways. At least once a week, someone sends us home with maize, tomatoes, mangoes, bananas or other precious goods. We’ve had people stop by when we’re not home, delivering cucumbers, pineapple, and from our expatriate friends at the mines, frontline spray for our dog! (There is an awesome and unexpected ministry opportunity to the miners, but that will be the subject of another post). At times we are frustrated that we can’t “start” the ministry we say we came here to do, but at those times we remind ourselves that we are learning to better communicate, building relationships, and doing what we can for the greatest and “least of these.”

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.... I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it for me.” (Matthew 26:35-36, 40)

September 2010 Prayer Letter!

Imagine your world without anybody between the ages of 30 and 50.  What do you think it would be like?  Would you even be around?  This is a reality for many people in AIDS-stricken southern Africa.  Read more about it, and how you can help make a difference, in this month's prayer letter.

As always, just click on the image above to be taken to a full-sized version of the letter.

Your Questions... Answered

As much as we try to cover everything about our ministry in our prayer letters (see previous post), we don't want to put you to sleep with pages and pages of text. But, we realize, people have questions. So after getting some facebook feedback and collecting some of the questions you've sent our way, we've compiled the following list of FAQs. Did we miss anything? Ask us. Anytime.

Q. What will you be doing?

A. We will work at LUSA Home-Based Care, a ministry started by a national Zambian woman named Mama Yoba to share the gospel, provide basic education and food to orphans, home visits and encouragement to people dying of AIDS, and life-skill training to members of the community. We will be developing additional programs for the kids, discipling the caregivers and helping those learning life skills to learn how to make a living from what they produce. (There is a fish farm, chicken coop, sewing machines and some basic agriculture.) We will also be facilitating/hosting teams coming through.

Q. What is included in your monthly financial support?

A. Your gifts go toward our monthly salary for our basic living expenses, housing, taxes, international health insurance, a retirement plan (403(b)), transport to and from the field, and administrative support from SIM.

Q. How much do you have to raise?

A. Our support requirement is approximately $5,050 per month. This covers the needs listed above for us plus one-to-three children. (So we aren’t short on funding if the Lord blesses us with a family during our ministry!) We also have a ministry account to cover expenses specific to our ministry (postage, gas, educational supplies, vehicle repair, outreach for AIDS sufferers, etc) that will be about $450 per month.

Q. Are my gifts tax deductible?

A. Yes! SIM will send you receipts for any donations, as well as a yearly receipt for recurring online gifts.

Q. When should we start giving if you’re not leaving for several months?

A. The earlier the better! Any funding that comes in prior to the month of our departure goes toward our relocation expenses. If possible, please sign up right away. (If you know you will be giving monthly gifts in the future, but are not able to start yet, will you tell us how much you plan to give? We have to have 100% of our monthly funding “pledged” in order to buy our plane tickets!)

Q. How long will you be there (and if I want to support you monthly, how long does that continue)?

A. Our commitment is long-term, so we plan to serve as long as that is what God is calling us to do. However, we will return for several months of home assignment after every 2-4 years in the field. Ideally, your commitment to support us will be for the duration of our ministry but pledges are as God guides you and provides for you to give.

Q. Is my support covering any past debt or loans?

A. No. God has graciously provided for all of our needs and we have absolutely no debt!

Q. I want to be part of your ministry to AIDS orphans in Zambia. How do I get started?

A. Sign up for automatic bank withdrawals at www.sim.org/giveusa. Be sure to include our name and the account: #23444. You can also mail a check made out to SIM USA (Memo: #23444 - Wessler) to: SIM USA P.O. Box 7900, Charlotte, NC 28241. Please do not hesitate to ask us for any clarification, forms, etc.

Q. How can I share what you're doing with my family/friends/church so that they can have the opportunity to support you guys?

A. You are welcome (and encouraged) to share our letters and website (http://www.wesslersinzambia.com/) with them or send them directly to us via phone (309-363-2722) or e-mail (luke.wessler@sim.org / tiffany.wessler@sim.org). Also, if you provide us with their contact information, we will contact them and set up a time to get together or talk on the phone. Please share – your referrals and networking are very much appreciated.

Anything else?

New Ministry Video!

At our last small group meeting we were given the opportunity to present the ministry we are preparing for in Zambia. Since the other members of the group already know us, and since they have already seen our support video (check it out in the side bar), we decided to put together a new video more specific to what we will be doing in Solwezi. Check it out!