Those Peculiar Johnsons

Fall on My Face at a Beggar’s Feet by Kay Johnson

His feet were just inches from my face.  That’s right!  Ugly, scarred, deformed and a bit dirty from the dust of the sidewalk and worst of all, they were just inches from my face.  It was not the position in which I would have assumed to find myself just a few minutes earlier, but here I was, lying prostrate with my face staring at the atrophied, disfigured limbs of a Nairobi street beggar.  What were left of his lower extremities were not really feet.  For that matter, even the hands which he extended to help restore me to my upright and dignified position were not really hands.  This man had lost hands and feet in a fire and all he could do was to extend the ‘nubs’ of support, which I desperately needed, but was too embarrassed and too ‘whole’ to accept freely.

How did I come to fall on my face at a beggar’s feet, you might ask?  It wasn’t easy.
 
I had just left the very upscale offices of a downtown lawyer who was handling the legal affairs for Tenwek Hospital.  It was my duty during those years to oversee the financial, legal and insurance matters for the hospital.  In doing so, I would make frequent trips to Nairobi, which required me to look and act professional.  I carried my brief case containing important documents and wore my best attire for business, which that day included a ‘smart’ dark colored skirt and jacket suit, with a light colored blouse, nylon stockings, and high heel shoes.  Having completed the tasks for the day, I took the elevator to the ground floor of the high rise building and proceeded from the entrance towards the car which I had parked nearby.
 
It was a sunny day; the streets were busy with the usual vendors, shoppers and people of great importance such as…, I, for example.
 
The sidewalk was really crowded at this particular corner, as people made their way around some obstacle in their path.  It was the corner just opposite from where I was standing, so I steadied myself and I clutched my brief case and continued.  I did not want anyone to think I was not familiar with walking in the big city, even if I happened to live in Bomet at the time. After all, I am from Philadelphia where a crowd at mid-day is the norm for center city.
 
The pedestrians surged forward from the corner and I moved along with the tide, as though their avoidance of the obstacle was an example of their own ‘un-city’ like behavior.  All of a sudden, he appeared.  I was just about in the middle of crossing the street, and I saw this ‘poor creature’ this man of about 50 years of age, sitting on the sidewalk begging.  Practically all of the passerby’s did just that…, passed by.  A few threw a coin at his plate without bending down to make sure it hit the mark and moved on as the man ‘pawed’ at the gifts to make them into a collectible pile.  A cup would have been more difficult to get a coin in with a quick toss, and a greater challenge for him make good their bad aim.  I slowed my stride as I watched.  A bit of pity and a bit of horror seized me and caused me to slow my pace a bit more and then to actually miss the curb, trip and then fall at the beggar’s feet.
 
His reaction was quick, kind and deliberate.  He probably did not have many ‘sophisticated’ American women fall for him. 
 
‘Oh, I’m sorry mam, I am so sorry, I am very, very sorry!’  He kept at it as he tried to offer a ‘helping hand’. 
 
My tightly held brief case hit the ground, opened and the papers flew out onto the sidewalk around him.  I could feel a sharp pain in my one knee as I knew I had scraped it on the pavement, and torn my nylon hosiery.  I looked up at the man’s face.  He displayed genuine concern and compassion.  He knew exactly what it was to be in this position and have people walk past him.  He knew just how I felt, vulnerable, embarrassed and dependent.  The crowd continued to pass us both.
 
‘Thank you, oh thank you so much’  I responded repeatedly to him.  I quickly gathered my papers shoved them haphazardly into the case, swallowed my pride and dusted the dirt off of my business attire.  I moved away from him as quickly as I could, lest someone think we were partners in his small time venture.  Within a few minutes I was in my car, and far from the scene and ready to reflect on what could possibly have been on God’s mind by allowing me to be so utterly shamed.
 
I never really got it, until I started to relate this story to others.  It is times like that which serve to remind me that we are all what we are by God’s grace.  I was born in a time and a place where the only opportunity I have thus far had to lie prostrate in humility before God and before people was at the feet of a beggar. 
 
God has brought me into this work of missions by His grace and I am kept by His grace.  I dare not boast of anything, because I could surely still be lying on my face at the feet of a beggar.
 
1Co 15:10 But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.

The Gift on the Tree

It will require a real break from tradition for me.  I really like to guess what is in the red box with the green ribbon.  I wonder if the color of the tie will match the suit I have and if not, will my wife notice that I don’t wear it?  (Keep that one a secret).
 
It is time for me to stop complaining about the gifts under the tree, and look up at the gift that was hung upon the tree.

I have lost the real meaning of the season in all of this worry and hurry about hanging up the ornaments, when the real decoration started from the hanging of the greatest gift on the tree.  It was not an ornament.  It was not tinsel or decoration.  It was not an angel.  It was not Santa nor a bright star.

I need to reconsider my giving this year.  It must be a gift that reflects the Greatest Gift ever to hang on a tree.  Give gratitude to your God, and show it by your love to those around you.  That grateful heart will help others to stop looking under the tree and look up at Calvary, where the Greatest Gift was hung.
It started at Christmas, but “It is finished” was said on the tree.

1Pe 2:24  Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness: by whose stripes ye were healed.

Spiritual Compromise: The Christian Condom

Sex is not the issue here.  In fact, if sex were the issue, this would be a lot easier essay to write.  The true issue is the compromise over a wide spectrum of issues.  We who claim to know Christ, and I use the term ‘claim’ intentionally, compromise that claim by using His name to cover our sin. 
 
It is as though by saying I am a Christian it allows me to involve myself with sin, but not to be contaminated by it.  I can engage my mind, eyes, imagination, intellect and in some instances, even my body with things which I know do not please God and then pronounce, ‘it is okay, God will forgive me.’  It is a spiritual condom.  I pleasure my flesh, and believe I can protect it with the covering of ‘a dash of grace and forgiveness’. 
 
I overindulge in food and call it, a bad habit.  The Bible calls it gluttony.  I sit and watch hours of television to the exclusion of reading the word of God.  I call it relaxation, the Bible calls it laziness.  I partake of entertainment that I know is not clean morally and explain it away by saying ‘this is all there is to watch and do.’  The Bible says, I choose sin and death over purity and life.  
 
Pr 23:21For the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty: and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags.
 
I want what others have and even feel I deserve it.  I call it healthy competition.  The Bible calls it covetousness, jealousy, discontent, and envy.  I loose my temper and say things I know I should not.  I call it healthy expression of self.  The Bible calls it anger and bitterness.  I intentionally remember the hurt someone caused me and the pain they inflicted.  I call it a good memory, the Bible calls it unforgiveness.
 
I tell stories and innuendo about my neighbors, friends and even relatives and call it sharing prayer requests.  The Bible calls it gossip. 
 
I use these spiritual condoms thinking that the things I engage in do not contaminate me. 
 
Jer 17:9 The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?

I deceive myself. If it feels good then it must be good.
 
Jer 9:5 And they will deceive every one his neighbour, and will not speak the truth: they have taught their tongue to speak lies, and weary themselves to commit iniquity.
 
Christians now ask questions as to whether it is okay to watch pornography as forms of entertainment, just as long as we do it as a married couple, or just as long as we are consenting adults in a ‘committed relationship’.  This is deception by choice.  We choose to deceive ourselves and ask God to forgive us in making that choice.   We call it enhancing our sexuality. The Bible calls it fornication and adultery.
 
Mt 5:28  But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.
 
There is no spiritual compromise which is covered by grace.  We cannot engage in sin and then expect to not be contaminated by it.  We abuse the grace of God and He is not pleased when we take His gift of grace and use it to cover the skin and sin of our flesh as if it were a condom. 
 
Paul was quite clear on this in:
 
Romans 6:1-2 What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound?  God forbid. How shall we, that are dead to sin, live any longer therein?
 
Those who know Christ also know that there is no excuse to continue in sin if we truly know Him. 
 
James Jas 4:17 Therefore to him that knows to do good, and does it not, to him it is sin.
 
There is no spiritual compromise.  There is only life in the spirit, or life in the flesh.  Live to the flesh and yield what the flesh will give which is death.  Live to the spirit and you will reap life.  No compromise, no condom will protect you from this death. 
 
Ro 8:13  For if ye live after the flesh, ye shall die: but if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live.

Just This Once Jesus

The little boy slowly lifted his head from the stone, and licked the surface collecting what he could on his tongue.  At three years of age, he had known nothing but chronic hunger.  His face was covered with the fine residue of corn meal dust which was left behind by the nearby chickens. This stone is used to hand grind the corn or maize, into a powder which can be cooked into a mush, one staple of the Kenyan diet.   Since the boy was bigger than the chickens, they dared not fight him for this remaining food, however, they did hover nearby, just in case the boy would decide he was full.  After a half minute of licking, the boy laid his face back on the stone and knelt, resting to get enough energy, to watch the chickens and try licking up more corn meal dust. 
 
I have been hungry before, but never desperately hungry to the point of licking a brick.
 
I thought to myself, ‘why not just this once Jesus?  Why not turn this stone into bread?’ 
 
During our most recent trip to Ukambani region of Kenya, we saw people who were desperately hungry.  With our work team from Philadelphia, we visited homes and compounds of families who had less food in their store rooms for one month supply than I feed my dogs for a week.  They did not complain, neither did they try to super-spiritualize their condition.  They quietly just did what was necessary to get by, as always.
 
The chickens and livestock are their last hedge against complete hunger, and are used as a last step measure to ward off death.  When times are hard, such as a medical emergency, people first sell their crops, then their animals and last of all their land.  Since this land is so arid and of little value, these chickens are all that is left of the family’s wealth. 
 
After another year of failed crops due to lack of rain, the people cut the remaining trees to make charcoal to sell for cash.  A full bag of 60 pounds or 28 kilograms gets a price of about $2.25 or 180 Kenya Shillings.  This takes over one week to produce with cutting of the trees, collecting the compost and stoking the slow burn phase to make charcoal.  A lot of trees are felled to ward off hunger.  This boy licking the stone is a usual part of the landscape, like the surrounding deforested hills and heavy soil erosion.  The landscapes mirror the deeper story of the ravages of hunger on families.
 
We delivered and helped plant over 1,000 trees this trip, placed four water pumps on wells, and provided irrigation equipment and seeds for acre sized community gardens.  We held Bible study and group activities for children and helped complete another two classrooms of the community school we have been building.  With all of this work completed, the little boy was still licking a stone for corn meal dust.
 
Why can’t we just turn these stones to bread?  Is it such a bad thing?  Why not just deliver the necessary food, water, and medicines to the people who have known hunger for generations?  Why not just this once Jesus?
 
As I ponder these questions with the Holy Spirit, He encourages me that the changes we are making are not just to provide food for the day, but food security for the future.  We are not only changing the landscape of the earth, but also softening the stony ground of spiritual erosion to make it fertile soil for the gospel.  We are already seeing changes in some communities which were at one time totally dependent upon donated food from the UN,  and are now able to sell their surplus to buy livestock to replenish their herds (this is their savings account).  Our work is making a difference and families that were starving are now eating on a regular basis.
 
The boy lifts his face again and sticks out his tongue to lick the stone.  The chickens resort to eating some bugs and avoid the boy as he has not yet had his fill of the corn meal dust.  The Holy Spirit speaks softly to remind me that the Father does hear my prayer and that He is not interested in ‘just this once’, but desirous of making a long term impact on the lives of the people we serve here.  Just this once is not enough for this boy.  He needs bread for today, for tomorrow and for eternity.  Help us to provide the Eternal Bread of Life and the necessities of this present life to those whom we serve in Kenya.

My plan B is Jesus

Is always good to have a plan B.  I personally think that if you don’t have a plan B in life that you really are not a forward thinker. You must plan for every eventuality in life.  You never know just when things will go wrong.  Such is the logic in our world today.  For many of us, our plan B is Jesus.
 
As I consider the comments, criticisms and even the praises which some people give me, I also consider some of their own thoughts about their own lives.  Many times they are self critical, saying they feel unfulfilled and even frustrated with their present lot in life and they just wish they had a plan B. 
 
Some of the conversation is akin to this;  “I really felt God calling me into missions, but…,I chose plan A” 
 
I don’t  mean to be so presumptuous as to think that everyone should be doing what I am doing in missions.  Far be it to suggest that.  Who would write out the support checks if that were to happen?  What I am saying, however, is that if we as Christians feel this way about Jesus as a plan B, how do we relate Him as the King of kings to those who are looking to us for direction?  If Jesus is my plan B, why should I tell others make Him plan A?
 
Plan A is where I get to make the decisions about my life.  I get to choose what I want to study, whom I want to marry, where I want to live and work and how much money I am going to make.  Plan A is good because I can always know what is coming ahead, at least I can map things out.  I know the terrain.  I know when the interviews are, when the deadlines must be met and which is the best crowd to be with when the news arrives.
 
Plan A is good because I will meet just the right person for my personal life and that person will be my mate, either for life or until I have to go to plan B.
 
Plan A is good because I don’t have to pray about it, share it with God or even fast or meditate.
 
The problem of course with all of our plan A’s is that they completely leave Christ out.  We are so busy with life and the planning of our lives that we don’t even consider that Christ should be our Plan A and then we won’t need a plan B.
 
Consider that the Creator is inviting us all to the banquet held in honor of His only Son.  He has spent a lot of time preparing this…, literally ALL OF TIME!  All of creation is awaiting this event.  Everyone is expected to attend. 
 
Here are some of the excuses the Creator gets from the RSVP’s.
 
This, of course, is a paraphrase of Luke 9:57-62 and 14:20
 
I cannot come, for I just bought a new team of oxen and I must break them in.
I cannot come, for I have just bought a new field and I need to get the land inspected and prepared for sowing.
I cannot come, I need to bury my father.
I cannot come, I just got married and you know about new wives!
I cannot come, I need to say goodbye to some people.
I cannot come…, because…, well you know the list goes on and on. 
 
I cannot come Father because it is not in my plan A.  Jesus is in my plan B.  If these other plans fail me, I will do exactly what you ask me Father and I will attend the wedding of your Son.  I will be obedient to the calling on my life if my plan A fails.
 
Of course, we know that our Father does not want His son to be the plan B in our lives.  Anything less than complete, absolute, unconditional, immediate obedience is really not an acceptable offering.  It wouldn’t work in the workplace of the world, the armies of the nations and it won’t put you in good stead with your Father in heaven.
 
What is your plan A?  Are you letting Christ be your plan B? 
 
Our Father knows that many of the things in our plan A are important.  He just wants us to get a handle on life to let us know that He can take care of those things in His plans, if we are willing to give in to His plans.  
 
He wants us to seek the Kingdom first, foremost and finally.  Matthew 6:33 must be the plan A.  It must be the only plan we have with no alternative plans.  It must be the plan that when things seem to fall through on it, we don’t go to another source, we just re-read the directions for plan A.  Give Christ a boost, lift Him up.  After all if He is good enough to be your Father’s plan A, without an alternative, He should be good enough for you and me.

Well Healed Or Well Heeled: The Profits of Prophets

I am always amazed at how quickly the dust settles on the grounds of the stadiums, arenas, conference centers and show grounds of Nairobi.  A visiting evangelist, preacher, healer and crusader sweeps into town, makes a great impression on the spiritually and physically hungry masses, meets some of the important dignitaries and political leaders, and before you know it, the ‘swoosh’ of the sweep is silent.  By this time only the dust at the cash register, and the query of a few thousand confused souls is still unsettled.  The visitors inevitably leave a variety of books, CD’s video tapes, pamphlets, brochures and telephone hot lines for those who still seek answers for a lifetime which they could not get in one week.  There is a lot to be said by prophets about profits.

How is it that the gospel came to be so profitable, to those who preach it today, when it cost the Savior so much?  How do these modern day profiteers make money on what cost Christ His life?

The prophet Isaiah said it well in Isaiah 53:5 “…by His stripes we are healed..”

I would suggest that the King James version could be abridged to say we are well healed, or in these instances ‘well heeled.’

The nations of the world are suffering for the lack of men and women who are willing to show the crucified Christ in His suffering.  It is very difficult if not impossible for the poorest and most desperate to differentiate the eloquent and learned from the sincere and most Christ like. It is hard for them to understand the gospel when these prophets are welcomed not as suffering servants but as well heeled heroes.

The poor want a miracle, not a manicure.  The poor want food, not a photo-op.  The poor want healing that does not come with them as a backdrop for a headline showing the latest prophet to come their way.

The entourage of hundreds of people including body guards, the caravan of fine luxury cars, the expense of staying in the finest luxury hotels and of course, dining (not publicly wining) with the most important people is not the example of the Christ on the cross.

I believe their message is heard loud and clear.  “By His stripes, we are well heeled! It is good to serve God when He will benefit you financially in this life.  After all, this life is  an important thing, so get as much as you can, and after that you get to go to heaven too!”

Sin Deep Not Skin Deep

Sin Deep Not Skin Deep

I don’t like white people.  I don’t like their music, their style of dress and certainly not their voting patterns.  Come to think of it, I don’t like black people either.  I don’t like their style of music, their style of dress or their voting patterns.  Come to think of it, I have something against the Hispanics, the Asians and…., well when you get right down to it, I have a whole lot against a lot of people.  In short, it is not racism that troubles my world, it is sin.  It is not skin deep things that trouble me, it is the sin deep things.

When we consider the church and its mandate to take Christ to the nations, one of the most obvious problems with fulfilling this mandate is our sin deep failures, not the skin deep ones.

Whether you are a red neck, or blue blood, Negro, mulatto, or red blooded Indian, your beauty is only skin deep, but the ugliness of sin is deep to the bone. It crosses all classes and casts, all creeds and breeds, all tribes and absolutely, every single Christian denomination, organization, institution and structure.  It is more intrinsic to the character of the church itself than any avowed statement of purpose or mission.  It is sin deep.

Church ministries are defined by it, careers are built upon it.  We don’t just seek the lost, we seek the lost of a certain type of people in a certain place, when many of those ‘same people’ are in our own ‘backyards’, and communities.

We cannot talk about reconciling man to his Creator God, because we have the hypocrisy of sin deep divisions in our congregations.  It smells of hypocrisy and lies when we tell people to have a loving relationship with the God who forgives all our sins, and yet we hold unforgiveness and prejudice in our hearts.  It is impossible to preach a gospel of forgiveness when we don’t forgive.  It is impossible to teach about reconciliation halfway around the world when we have decided that there are certain parts of our neighborhoods, cities and nations which we will not visit.

For the

church

of

Christ

to make a difference for Christ, we must recognize that we are divided by sin and that goes deep into our hearts.  God forgive us and heal these deep divisions caused by sin, which manifest as skin.  We will only be effective for Christ if we repent and turn from this divisiveness in our midst.  We must be one.

Jesus prayed this very thing in John 17:22 “.., that they may be one, just as we are one..,”

Here’s Your Change Jesus: A Legacy of Selfishness

We are familiar with Jesus’ parable of the talents. But the passage as I read it lacked a little punch to it. So, in the margins of my own Bible I added one more servant to the passage. This guy was given not five, not two and not one talent. This servant that I added was given 20 talents. Yeah, I know I am not supposed to add to this Bible, but its only in the margins so I think I am okay.

Anyway, it just so happened that this guy took his talents and did not invest it like the other guys, nor did he hide it under a rock. Instead, he had a party! It was a great party. Everyone who was anybody, or thought he was anybody came to the party.

He invited all of the movie stars, bought them the finest wines and liquors and brandished a lavish table on his friends. He had major sports stars, recording artists and some of the biggest businessmen of his day. He wanted to impress people. He even invited the church leaders. You can’t go wrong if you invite a preacher as that will add legitimacy to what you do.

At the end of the party, when his master came and asked him what did he do with the 20 talents, he told him straight up: “I had a party and you should have been here!”

Then the master asked, “Is that all you did?”

This guy, without shame says, “Oh yeah…, here is your change!”

Well I have big margins in my Bible, so I can write a lot.

We have been given a legacy as an American people of African descent. We have been given the legacy of having survived being dragged from within the African inland, to the shores. A few of us survived the journey which went form the shores of Africa, to some of the nations of Europe, North Africa, Southeast Asia, and the Americas. We in North America were better off than many in these other destinations. We actually saw white people fighting and killing other white people in order to free us, when we had no guns, armies or money to do so ourselves.

We survived slavery, reconstruction, Jim Crow segregation, lynchings, mob violence and persistent intimidation from the halls of government to the institutions of higher learning and healing. We were last hired, first fired. We could not vote, had no change within the halls of justice, and lived in housing similar to that we see in much of the third world today.

We now have an income and disposable wealth equivalent to that of several African nations combined. We literally have billions at our disposal to buy whatever we want. Now we are late to church, not because we don’t have clothes, we just cannot decide which suit goes with which part of shoes the handkerchief match our cufflinks. We have been given 20 talents. What are we doing? We are having a party!

No matter where I go in Africa or the world, the legacy of Martin Luther King and others like him are known more prominently by others than known or appreciated than by those of African descent in America. Why is that? I believe because it means more to them.

It means more to them to know of our history and struggles we faced and how our Lord and Master helped us to overcome, than it means to us. They are struggling to overcome like we once did. They have embraced our legacy, our 20 talents.

It is our 20 talents we have been given, and we are having a party.

What else do I see as I travel around the world? I see the legacy of our misguided desire to be the sexiest, nastiest, hottest, fanciest, liveliest and last thing on the television screen. (Don’t tell my wife I see those hoochie mamas on the screen) I see us praying. I see the legacy of black entertainment gone awry with ‘nigger, bitch, wore (pronounced hoe for those who don’t get those stations), gangsta’ and gang-banger’ just to name a few of our well known trademarks. We are the hottest sport stars, wearing the latest styles, and using the foulest language on the screens.

Africa in particular is inundated with this media and it feeds the desires of the flesh on a continent swimming in death and disease caused by AIDS and other sexually transmitted illnesses.

What have we done with the talent which our forefathers decreed us? What have we done with the mandate which within the American Black National Anthem? That mandate states the we will forever be true to our God and true to our native land.

We have wasted that mandate on ourselves. We have decided that the color of the carpet does not match the color of the pulpit and the pastor’s suit of clothes is too common to represent us well. We have decided that a trip to the casinos or theater on a church bus is as legitimate as outing as a trip to visit the prisoners in their need. We have concluded that a trip to Africa is only good if we are going to see the well fed animals and ignore the starving people.

“Thanks for the 20 talents master. Here’s your change Jesus!”

Well, to tell you the truth, I am sure that the servant who hid the talents would probably fare better than the one who squandered his and gave the master those loose change left over.

This I know is playing loosely with the scripture, but bear with me as I consider that I would rather be the one who buried his talent was cast into outer darkness, where there was weeping and gnashing of teeth. (Matthew 25:30) I really don’t know what it feels like to be in outer darkness, except that it is usually associated with extreme cold and fear of what is coming to grab me and devour me. But the guy who gave Jesus the leftovers, the loose change..., what would God hold in store for such a man?

When the party is over, where will we go if we have wasted our legacy? The Master is coming and He will require an accounting. There are literally billions that don’t know anything about Him all around the globe. This is part of our mandate as the church.

If we don’t have a good answer, we could shout over the very loud music: “Here’s your change Lord!” I can add that to the margin of my Bible too.

It's Only Water

I simply walk to my bathroom, the kitchen, the laundry area or even my front lawn and turn on the tap.  I let the water run until it is either cold enough to drink, or warm enough to wash my hands.  That portion which runs over and into the drain is not considered worth catching to save.  After all, it is only water. To most people of the world, it is literally a drop of luxury.

In most of Kenya people have genuine thirst for water.  They spend several hours of each day carrying their contaminated water up hills, over fields, across dry river beds and through thorn bushes. 

The water is contaminated by the goats, donkeys, cows and even dogs that drink from it and soil it, as well as people who bathe and wash clothes in it.  When you are thirsty in this dry land, even if the water has mud and other visible debris you drink it and pretend ‘it is only water.’  You just have to ‘decant’ the scum from the bottom of your bucket when you get home and share it with the household.

Over the past five years, we have had the privilege to help install 10 hand pumps for hand dug wells.  Ten pumps over five years does not sound like a lot of progress.  However, the wells take a minimum of 3-4 months to dig by hand.  After all, those who do the digging must balance the need to choose which children have enough strength to walk the four miles to school, which bull is healthy enough to pull the plow over the small dusty garden plot, and if the headache one is feeling is recurrent malaria or persistent hunger. 

       

Digging a well with pick axe, shovels and buckets, to a depth of 25-30 meters (up to 90 feet), is more than just a job at the end of day.  When we install the pumps, many families, literally hundreds of people can drink water without the organic contaminating additives of their livestock.  It is truly, only water then.

Within the city of Nairobi, the slums are filled with contaminated streams of water.  The Nairobi River is a fed by these streams, which gather the solid and liquid waste from the garbage heaps, mud shacks, shallow outhouses, and pit latrines.  Though people do not drink from these streams, the stench from the flow of these toxic tributaries adds a special ambience when coupled with the heaps of animal waste in some of the slums.

Clean water is available within the slums at a variety of ‘watering points’, where faucets have been placed for the communities.  People line up at these points with buckets and jugs and carry water home, sometimes as far as one kilometer (a bit more than half a mile).

 

Fetching water in the city of Nairobi is a common every day chore, just like watering a lawn on a cool summer day, or adding ice cubes to your favorite soda in Philadelphia.   I have in the past, even had to use water from intravenous fluids or a bucket to scrub for surgery at one of the government hospitals.

Our response to this water crisis in the city slums and orphanages is to de-worm the children every six months, mass immunizations for communicable diseases such as hepatitis, meningitis, and tetanus.  We provide free health care in these poor communities as most cannot afford the 60 Shilling (80 US cents)  round trip fare to the clinic or the 100 Shillings, ($1.30) to see the doctor.

During the last two months, we had the privilege of having another mission team, headed by members of our home church, Tasker Street Missionary Baptist Church and Pastor James Lovett. 

For over two weeks, they helped install pumps and irrigation equipment for people who consider water as important as life itself.  For them it is not 'only water' it is life.  We were also able to share with them the gospel of Christ, which will fulfill their deepest thirsts.

When I consider the dedication I use to turn on the faucet, it is in many ways similar to the commitment I have to reading my Bible.  It is only The Water of Life and I have it in many translations, versions, or flavors, while so many of those whom I serve long for even one single page, one sip of this water.

It is The Water of Life that can bring real life to the families and the gardens in these villages and communities.  It is this water we are really called to share.  Help us draw people to the Living Water of Christ.  Can you share?  Its only water after all.

Reckless and Naked Abandonment

“Sweetheart, would you please grate some carrots for me for the coleslaw?”

 

Kay’s voice is sweetly imploring me to get off of the couch and help her prepare the evening meal.  I pretend to not hear her, but it doesn’t last too long. 

 

“Did you hear me?”  Her voice is rising in intensity now.

 

“Huh? What did you say?”  I pretend to be deep in thought at my computer chess game.

 

“I said, get some carrots please and grate them for some coleslaw.  I already have gotten the cabbage ready.”

 

Now, I know for certain that the only way out of this dilemma is to play even dumber.

 

I fiddle around in the vegetable bin of the refrigerator for a few seconds and return to my comfortable position on the couch.  “I can’t find the carrots baby.  You probably have to go to the store and get some!”  I settle back to playing my chess game with the computer as I think to myself, “checkmate on you Kay!”

 

She comes down the stairs in a less than ecstatic mood.  She moves quickly towards the refrigerator and pulls out a bag of carrots and places them on the counter.  She doesn’t play chess, but she is very good at checkers.  “King me!” is the look on her face.

 

“Here they are.  Now would you please get up and help me get dinner ready?”  She retreats upstairs to other tasks to ready our home for the soon to arrive guests. 

 

I have been told that if I do an exploratory surgery, that I am sure to not find anything, because I cannot find something as simple as carrots in the fridge.  Well, that is what wives do for husbands.  They can remind them of their lack of inertia to do the things they know they can do, especially when they really don’t want to do those things.

 

I often consider these kinds of scenarios when it comes to the questions that come to me about missions and service to the poor, either in America or anywhere around the world.

 

“How do you start?  Where do you go?  Where is the need?  What does it take?  What can I do?  Who will help me get there?”

 

These are all legitimate questions.  They require real answers.  They require sincere answers.  These answers can be found if they are sought with naked abandonment to the consequences of the answers. 

 

You see, I really did not want to know where the carrots were.  That would have obligated me to actually do the work that was required to make the coleslaw once I found them.  It was better for me to feign ignorance or at least remain ignorant, which would relieve me of the burden of having to do the work required.

 

My question was self serving.  However, it did not work.  My wife knew that I knew where the carrots were.

   

Such are the issues of service to the poor and the underprivileged.  We live in the information age, when things that can be known about people around the block or around the world can be had at the touch of a finger, the flip of a page, or the turn of a dial.  We can no longer say; “we did not know, or we couldn’t afford to help.”  We live in the most prosperous of nations in the most prosperous of times.

 

We can no longer pretend to not know, to not be responsible or to not have adequate resources to respond. 

 

God knows better.  He expects more.

 

He expects us to pursue the task of service, and to make His name and His love known with reckless and even naked abandonment.  He expects us to not hold back, to not cling to anything in our pursuit of comforting the lonely, clothing the naked, visiting the sick, the imprisoned, the infirmed, the homeless, the orphaned and feeding the hungry.

 

Reckless, and naked abandonment will allow us to get out of our comfort zone and to leave all of the entrapments of what we feel are absolutely essential for life and do what is necessary to make Him known.

 

Are we ready for this?  Or maybe we should just send God to the store to get some more carrots. 

 

Isa 1:14
Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth: they are a trouble unto me; I am weary to bear them.

Isa 1:15
And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of blood.

Isa 1:16
Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil;

Isa 1:17
Learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow.