African rain does not usually fall gently, caressing the earth and nurturing the tender shoots. No, like everything else in this stark land, rain pounds the hard earth, pushing anything weak before its driving fury. Dry river beds are suddenly raging torrents. Tentative shoots are harshly crushed. Even knee high stalks bow to the ground under the rushing waters. The fertile lands close to the River Shire, where crops were almost ready for harvest, are under water. Only those who planted at just the right time and in just the right place will harvest this crop.
As I lie in my dry, netted bed, I am painfully aware of homes all around us that cannot stand the pounding. Poorly repaired roofs put up little resistance.
Mud bricks are quickly assimilated once again into the earth. Families huddle together, seeking refuge with neighbours. Food, already scarce, must now be stretched even further.
Our Iris Commissioners, including Mo, are bombarded with pleas for help. Everyone has a sad story to tell…houses fallen, food destroyed, clothing lost, children sick. In my Sunday morning boys’ Bible study, I asked them what they do when they hear a house fall. They laugh! As we have been studying the Gospel of John, we talked about what it means to be a sheep in Jesus’ flock, to hear his voice, and follow him. I really believe that if these boys are gripped by Jesus’ love, they will be the ones to transform their village by moving from laughter to compassion.
Why does Jesus call us his sheep? Sheep don’t know how to solve all the problems. They don’t seem too concerned about anything beyond food and water. The Shepherd is the Protector, the Provider, the Guardian. He leads them beside still waters, not rushing torrents.
I have found refreshment in Romans 8 of late, reading and re-reading, ‘There is now no condemnation,’ and ‘You have not been given a spirit of slavery which leads to a life of fear, but a spirit of adoption, enabling you to cry, ‘Abba Father’. Fear is a natural response to such devastation, to riots at our food distribution, to babies close to death for lack of basic nourishment. But, as adopted children of our Father, we can trust him. This is his land, these are his people. He knows their need – and those who seek him are sustained. Our job is to trust our ‘Abba Father’ and look to him for direction. ‘In the same way the Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness. We do not even know how to pray, but through our inarticulate groans the Spirit himself is pleading for us.!’
Our Iris children provide a picture for us. They are adopted the moment the chief and their closest living relative signs the paper. They slowly learn what that adoption means, what rights and privileges they have as children in our Iris family. They continue to grow into love, to discover what it means to be nurtured and blessed. Discipline that flows out of love is a completely new thing, and yet from it arises a new level of trust.
With familiarity comes some discontent. ‘This dress is too small, these shoes aren’t pretty. This sheet is torn.’ How do we teach grateful hearts? By being grateful and by expressing gratitude. I am certain that our Father is saddened by our seeming ingratitude, our sullen grasping for more when we have so much. It certainly saddens me when our children become jealous and greedy, wanting exactly what everyone else has. Oh, that they would ‘rejoice with those who rejoice’ instead of reaching to get more themselves.
All around us is the evidence of God’s power and magnificence. A few months ago everything was dirty and dry. The day after the rains began, the earth sprouted green. The hillside before me when I walk changed colour before my eyes. I saw five herons one morning, lifting off as they caught sight of our dog, Fira. Even the tiniest bug caught my attention. Kalina and I marveled at its turtle like shell, decorated as if with a tiny paintbrush, with red, blue and yellow zigzags and diamonds of the same colours. The God of all creation, continues to create. He has been creating in me a yearning for a closer walk, so that like Jesus I might say, ‘My food is to do the will of him who sent me.’ Jn. 4:34
You maybe wondering what the daily ‘doing’ looks like. Well, recently Mo has spent a lot of time sourcing food for the thousands of displaced families since the flooding. This involves finding the food, paying for the food (remember our closest bank is three hours away), transporting the food to areas close to the river where the flooding is the worst, and then distributing to those in greatest need. Of course, with the rains, the roads are very rough just now, so the traveling takes a lot of time and patience. We have been able to help families at Nchalo Island, Ngabu, East Bank, Nsanje, and Makhanga. Recently Mo was able to take a trip into Mozambique, between the Shire and the Zambezi Rivers. This is an inaccessible region except for roads coming through Malawi. They have been cut off by the flood waters to the south. Several NGOs are hard at work in this region, setting up refugee camps, and trying to provide food and clean water for as many as possible. There are entire camps, though, where there is no food available. We feel that God is calling us to be involved there. It is only 120 km from us, but that translates into 7 hours bumping along over rutted roads. Oh, for a helicopter, or even an airplane!
Recently, I have spent a lot of time in the containers. When it is 40 degrees outside, it is about 50 in the containers, so that translates into a sauna! We were so grateful to receive a 40 ft container loaded with gifts for the Malawian people. Though we had some struggles getting it through customs, in the end the container arrived in Bangula, and we had a full day to get everything into various storage areas. All the pastors and workers were on hand to help. It was amazing to see the love arriving in the form of clothing, food, shoes by the hundreds, paper, lego, supplies for our school, not to mention two motorcycles which will help identify suffering people in the villages. It was overwhelming as we unpacked, sorted and repacked. It was a very hot day, but the rain clouds began to gather mid-afternoon, giving us added momentum. There is no way to say ‘thank you’ for such tremendous encouragement. Just today I gave a pair of shoes to an old lady who goes to the field everyday barefoot. She is so tired, and every part of her body aches. Shoes will make a big difference for Gogo Christina. Her smile was thanks enough.
Buildings continue to go up. Our two new children’s homes are finished and being used as school rooms presently, until we are ready to bring in more children. We still need house parents for these two homes. The Women’s Dormitory is coming along, almost ready for a roof now, and our children’s school is also moving along. It will be so good to bring all the students under one roof soon. This school will serve the community as well in time, so we continue to look for teachers and leaders to train and come alongside our Malawian teachers.
As the physical buildings go up on site, the church is being built up around Malawi. As Pastors grow in their faith, they help to build a stronger church, where the leaders serve the weak, and Jesus is lifted up. It is so exciting to send them home after graduation, knowing that they will pass on what they have learned to hungry hearts at home. I often picture a river during graduation, the pastors flowing back into their villages, and taking with them the good news.
We pray that Malawi would be completely covered by the River of Life, and that people who enter Malawi, would find the presence of God here. It is a funny thought, that a land scarred by drought and flooding, might become a place of refreshment for the hungry and tired….God loves that kind of outrageous dreaming…more than you could ever ask or imagine wrote Paul. Let us dream together.
