Stories from our field writers and other contributors
Shells from the 20mm cannons shredded the mango trees nearby, peppering the bank where he sought cover. It wasn’t the first time he’d been left for dead.
It’s the golden hour, in a golden place—perfect for a romantic stroll or an inspired moment of quiet introspection. Also perfect, incidentally, for making a movie.
As our team waded through the water with baggage and provisions atop our heads, stumbling in the thick, powdery sand, we felt like explorers in a new land.
“I’m not good with names,” she said, her German accent punctuating each vowel. “But right now there are 150 kids at Safina and I can tell you the name of every child and where they go to school.”
The seeds of hard work, God’s provision, moral accountability, and the concept of family, are strong sprouts already taking root in the adoring eyes and peaceful smiles of each child.
So there beside the drama of a protracted African war, beside the aid workers, peacekeepers, and pallets of relief food, were teachers. And some of them were missionaries.
One pastor was in the middle of a sermon when Glenn, who had just returned, walked into the church unannounced. The pastor fell silent, then said, “They say it is death to come to Congo. But nevertheless, here is Mr. Wilton, come back to live with us!”
At night, globes of light wink into existence on the expanse of the water. More and more appear, like a string of glowing pearls bobbing on a swath of velvet.
The message to the farmers and shepherds of Lesotho is that God, amazingly, relates to their disparaged vocations. And through them, he is working out his purposes for Lesotho
What do you take on a trip like that? Good boots and a Bible. A notebook and an open mind. And, if you dare, an open heart.
Make your everyday life a spiritual act of worship and constantly remind yourself, “This is what God has called me to do.” Just hanging out with the boys is part of worship and part of praising God.
Perhaps a better question is how can we lose heart, when Rwandans themselves – who have suffered so much – refuse to do so? Rather than blame God for their problems, they look to Him for solutions
Surrounded by those bones, visualizing the magnitude of what had happened there, I had a real sense of Satan’s involvement. The organizational effort to rally a million people to turn against their neighbor has his fingerprints all over it.
The young Mwani church has gone through similar trials. The worries of the world and the daunting bonds of culture have pounded the burgeoning yet vulnerable body of believers.
They believe in the Gospel of Truth so strongly that not only are they willing to risk their own lives for it, but, grasping tightly to the knowledge of eternity with a loving God, they are willing to risk the lives of the people with whom they share their faith.