Showing posts with label Africa. Show all posts

Our Real Masisi Story

Masisi Territory

I remember typing the words “Democratic Republic of Congo” and “North Kivu” into my computer for the first time. I was 18-years-old, sitting in the living room with Jean Ngirwe and his wife Eva. They were Congolese refugees who had gotten a visa to immigrate to the U.S. with their family.

An image of vast rolling green hills popped up on the computer screen.

“Masisi Centre,” it read.

The former Congolese refugees, now a U.S. citizens and also board members for Rally International NCE gasped.

“We know that place with our feet!” They exclaimed—a funny way to say that they remember walking in the same place where the picture was taken.

My then future-husband, Andrew Roth talked to them while I continued reading about the place where the picture was taken. It spoke about rebels, land conflicts, war crimes and political instability.

The description of Masisi seemed so contrary to picture that I was looking at. The picture told a story of peace, tranquility and magnificent beauty. But the words told a story of a hopelessness that seemingly had no end to it.

I decided in my heart from that moment on, I would go there. I would work in the same place that Google image showed me.

But the Cost
Masisi taught Andrew and I more lessons then anyone could ever know.

It taught us that world was beautiful, but not kind.
It taught us that the best intentions are not enough.
It taught us that it takes a lot of faith to fear.

It also built our skills and capacity to a level that makes our resumes particularly attractive. We’ve gotten job offers all over the world in places where other people don’t know what to do. It is humbling. It is also sobering.

We bought a piece of land that we thought could be a refuge for children and youth around the community who were constantly under the threat army recruitment or being taken as child brides. We also supported the education of nearly 100 young people trying to recover from recruitment into the war. But the more we worked, the more we saw that it wasn’t enough.

Nothing was ever enough. Not prayer. Not training. Not jobs. Not education. And definitely not the best that we had to give. It was a vicious cycle of giving, never receiving and finding that whatever we gave never even touched the root issues that existed in the hearts of these youth.

Education is powerful, but it doesn’t heal.
Programs can be effective to a certain extent. But they don’t fill voids.

These children had huge voids. And the longer we worked there, so did we.

They needed to belong somewhere.
We needed to belong somewhere.

The same belonging (or lack thereof) that led the people we worked with to destroy each other was the same yearning for belonging that lead Andrew and I to nearly destroy each other and ourselves.

There is a war inside of us all that makes us adore our conquerors and despise ourselves. When we live in an environment where the conquerors' voice speaks louder than the voice inside of us, we end up becoming the conqueror.

Letting Go
We stopped working in Masisi almost four years ago in an effort to become a part of a local church where our spiritual and mental health could be nursed and nurtured. On the outside, people could say that the church needed us—but the truth is we probably needed them a lot more than they needed us.

Our marriage was crumbling.
Our finances were underwater.
And our mental and health and stability was almost gone.

Honestly, I just wanted to go home and lick my wounds. Or escape...

Traveling in Convoy to Masisi in 2013.
We didn't know that we were bringing
people who one day help us return today.
I considered killing myself.
I also had a period where I thought about Andrew dying. I thought if he died, I could just make a generous donation to the Congolese (in his name) and then move to Spain, get a new identity, new life and no one would ever know I tried to pursue the ministry.

Don’t get me wrong, there were parts of it that we loved. We loved living on the frontlines, we loved being stuck in the mud and recovering vehicles. We loved the chaos of it. We also made some our most valuable friends and relationships through it all.
But it took a toll that I don’t think either of us can really explain. And we took a toll on each other that I don’t think either of us can explain either.

A piece of me died when we decided that we weren’t going to continue projects in Masisi. We needed to invest in the church we were joining in Goma. And though we may not have admitted just then, we needed them to invest us. I felt like that was the end. We would never get back to Masisi—other things would take the priority and ten years later, Masisi would be like a passing dream.

That’s really what I thought. And I was so angry about it. I felt like we failed.

“I came here because of Masisi, and I’m stuck doing what I didn’t even want to do… a building at the bottom of a volcano—literally.” I would tell God.

Life has an interesting way of turning things around
We are going back now. This is after three years hardly ever visiting there.

This time with a peace that we never had before.

We belong somewhere.

A picture when we were in missionary burnout
recovery period. We participated in a marriage
conference, which was planned by Andrew's
team at Samaritan's Purse. Our guest speakers
included Euclide and Lilian Mugisho. (2014)
Andrew is not a missionary in the same sense that he was before. He holds a high position within Samaritan’s Purse and is internationally recognized as a logistical expert within disaster situations. People who I never dreamed of knowing, now know who I am-- just because of my husband's position. The rich and the powerful; the ones with residuals.

In some ways, he owes so much of that to Masisi. His work in Masisi was his Bootcamp that prepared him for what he is doing today.

Rally International NCE has a beautiful team of foreign workers who are incredibly committed to the Congolese people and to the church. They are also incredibly equipped with unique skills and strengths that neither I nor Andrew has.

We have the church, while not perfect (what community is?), it is a safe place where neither of us feels like we have to perform. We can visit with whoever we want to, have lunch at anyone’s house, go to prayer and sit on the ground, walk around or lay prostrate, doing whatever it is we want to do. We can go to Sunday Service and come-as-we-are. If we want to raise our hands, that’s fine—if we don’t that’s fine too. I can even wear pants to church and I’m not afraid of being judged for it.

Every individual needs an environment where they don’t feel pressure to perform, especially leaders. It is invaluable.

Finally, we have Pastor Euclide and his family, our most precious partners. Congo is a place of little assurance. A person can do everything right and still end up on the bottom. But there is a sense of peace to know whatever we get into, we are not alone. If we feel screwed over, at least we feel it together. If we’ve one a victory, we feel it together. That’s the best reassurance in an unassured world.

Masisi Centre also has something that it didn’t have before. It is more stable than it was before. The war still rages in Congo, but it has moved farther from the small village where we bought the land, Mukohwa, giving its people a chance to breath; a chance to start thinking beyond dodging bullets. Aid agencies have also reduced the amount of aid to the area, leaving the people forced to start thinking about rebuilding rather than living hand-to-mouth on foreign help.

Returning to Mukohwa was not met without hardship.
The old chief died during our time away. His son (who we didn’t have a relationship) inherited the throne. We had to start a new relationship with him.

We were also met by land conflicts. A large part of the war in Congo is over land conflicts—we can’t expect this not to also affect us.

But after settling those issues, we are now building a little wooden building on our 4,000 square meter property by the river. Its not much. In fact, by now we thought that we would have a big cement building on our property. None of that worked out the way we had planned.

This wooden building is even more exciting than the big one we planned. It symbolizes a new beginning— not alone, but together. The people in the village still know us. They are genuinely happy to see us back.

They thought we were gone forever.

So did I.

But God works in his mysterious ways.

"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." John 14:12 

An old but sweet memory from 2012. We were visting caretakers from our children's education program.

Our most valuable memories together were those on roads like this. This was actually our favorite part about Masisi: getting there!
Africa

Congolese are Like Onions: They Have Layers

Meeting with the North Kivu Director of the Province.
Congo is a Francophone country, which means that French is the primary means of professional communication here. Swahili, Lingala, Kikongo and Tshiluba are also considered official languages. However, when stepping into a government office, we are expected to know French.

Congo also uses the French legal system, which we know as Civil Law. Anglophone (English speaking) countries like the United States do not operate on Civil Law; instead we operate on Common Law.

The Francophone influence in Congo presents a host of challenges for us, primarily because we face layers of cultural differences.

The Bantu Layer
The first and most obvious layer is that Congolese are Bantu people, which means they are indigenous to Africa. Here are some Bantu ideologies that we can find throughout all of Africa. There are of course, some exceptions to this, I’m not an anthropologist, but here’s a general idea:

1.) LIFE – The most valuable thing in the Bantu culture is the human life and fertility. The idea of abortion or suicide is completely foreign to this culture. It’s really tough for them to wrap their minds around why anyone would even think of either of these things.

2.) Fate – Typically, Bantus see fate as predetermined and don’t believe that they could influence it on their own accounts. As a result, they except death without as many questions that a typical foreigner would have. They also see circumstances in life to be a reflection of blessing or punishment from some higher power. As a result, if a person is going through hard times, the community can infer that this person did something to deserve those hard times.

Specific to only North Kivu, Congo (DRC) the chukudu
can carry an immense amount of weight (over 500lbs).
This is a statue of a chukudu where symbolically this
"third-world" tool is actually carrying the whole world.
3.) Solidarity – Success is not considered success until it benefits the whole group, clan or village. One person being an achiever is not appreciated unless that person is doing something for the group to achieve. A man or a woman’s worth is determined by the amount of people who are with him through good times and bad times.

The Francophone Layer
This is a layer that I’m truly still really confused about. The French culture is incredibly different from culture in the U.S. and I can understand why Francophones and Anglophones typically don’t associate with one another. Here are some cultural layers that we’ve had to navigate through.

1.) Position and Title – Position and title are held at a higher esteem than US culture. Title and position separate you from others and it’s culturally accepted and esteemed to keep a gap between the titleholder and others. For instance, it is not legally possible to hold a director position, without having a certain salary to reflect that position.

2.) Justice system (Civil Law) – Civil Law determines the source of law through academic scholars, theorists and university professors. Conclusions are drawn in court by considering the point in abstract theory. The theory and the practice never really mesh and they are not meant to. Common Law, which is what we use in the United States, finds its source determined by the judges and practitioners. Common Law uses facts to draw the conclusion.

3.) Rational thought vs. religion: in contrary to Bantu culture, the Francophone culture believes that the individual primarily determines the future—people are either good or evil. Good vs. evil can be easily hand-in-hand with rational thought vs. religion. Good, being rational thought and bad being religion.

This may sound like intellectual gibberish, but it’s not. The Gospel is simple, but people are not. This creates a really big barrier in teaching concepts that defy rational thought such as: dying to self or taking your thoughts captive and even the French Bible fails to translate these thoughts properly. 

Francophone Africa (such as Congo, Burundi and much of West Africa) has a history uniquely different from Anglophone (Kenya, Uganda, Zambia, Sudan, Tanzania and much of East and Southern Africa). The way colonization and independence occurred were particularly different. The effects are increasingly apparent today.
Not only do we deal with Francophone and Bantu cultures,
we often have meetings and interaction with those
a part of the United Nations. Contingents come from all
over the world including India, Pakistan, Uruguay,
 South Africa, and other nations.

Navigating through a hybrid culture of Bantu and Francophone language and culture requires a thorough analysis of the texts that we teach and how we teach them. It requires knowing the law or having a trustworthy person frequently on hand who can navigate through legal documents and protect us from lawsuits. It requires not just knowing the grammatical mechanics of the language but to know HOW TO use the language as a means to draw LIFE out of every individual that we speak with.

This is something that people who speak only one language and have never left their home country still struggle with.

Explaining the Bantu-Francophone layers only scratch the surface of  numerous other cultural barriers determined by socio-economic class as well as 400 different tribal groups each with their own customs. Moreover, we work in many sectors of the society: religious, economic, education, arts, culture and law-- each having it's own sub-culture to it, so-to-speak.

God calls us to embrace the differences and find His heart in the midst of every culture. I can certainly understand why wars happen and why people don't trust each other in our world. I'm still trying to figure out how to sit with French colleagues (because there are many of them working here) and make it through a conversation without insulting or feeling insulted. But I'm convinced that this is the beauty of the Kingdom.

God didn't create cultures so radically different from our own so that we could nitpick at them. He created them to remove the plank out of our eyes. He created them so that we could see better.
Africa

Madiba Goes to Rest



Today, Madiba will be laid to rest. I honor him, because I see that his country loved him. I've walked the streets of South Africa this week and have heard from Whites, Blacks, Afrikaans, Indians and the English about their honor for him. Is not getting a country, once so divided (and still even) to love you not a major feat on its own?

I've seen a number of FB posts suggesting that this man was a terrorist and that allude to his controversial wife, Winnie and her stance on necklacing. I shake my head to see how determined people are to put their fellow man into a box labeled 'villain' or 'hero', 'saint' or 'satan'.

I've come to learn that people who make boxes for other people are people who live in boxes themselves. 

You either die a hero or you live long enough to become a tyrant. 

I respect Nelson Mendela because he sacrificially served his nation and though he lived a long life, he never became a tyrant to his people. He was totally opposed to American-style capitalism. Go him! 

He lead during a violent time in his country's existence. Yeah, necklacing happened. He grew up in that world. And if you understand anything about riot mentality or mob psychology, you would know that what happens on the streets is so far removed from what goes on in parliament and remains that way for often decades at a time. That's the reality for any nation.

I respect Mendela because he remained a person without a box. He fought against white domination and he fought against black domination. He wasn't a western puppet president and he understood some foundational principles of reconciliation. He was a man. But most importantly, he was a man acquainted with failure and fear, yet he reconciled with these realities and just like anyone else who does the same, he made history.

“After climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb.” -Madiba
Saints and sinners, brothers and sisters, heroes and tyrants... Let us climb on!
Africa

Truth & Lies

Note: we have changed the names in this post to protect the privacy of the child. 

 A section of the Vision Book that the Peacemakers in our program are making is titled 'Truth and Lies'.

The kids are instructed to divide one page of their book in half and think about the negative things that people have spoken over them and what they have said about themselves.
"I am evil like Satan" Mkubwa wrote under the lies section of
his book. "I am a Peacemaker" under the truth section of
his book. 

We ask them if these words are making them into a better person, how those words make them feel and if they believe God thinks the same way. We are slowly trying to teach them about the character of God as not being condemner but a redeemer.

The children write the lies that are spoken over them on one side of the paper. And on the other side to write the Truth about themselves.

In one village, while this was being taught, the mother of one child came to the little shack that we were teaching in.

“He’s a Kadogo! All he does is fight, he’s just going to kill us all.”

The boy freaked out and began storming out of the room. One of the team members stopped him and gently pled with him to sit down, while another one went out and quieted the mother.

He put his hands on his head and looked down.

"Look what this woman is saying about me," he said, continuing to mutter things that I need not repeat on this blog.

Andrew and the team told him that this is an example of what he's learning right now.

"It's a lie," said Andrew, "now put what we are talking about into practice and say what you want to be."

Andrew put the pencils back into Mkubwa's hand.

"Write down what she's saying... Now, write what you are. YOU ARE A CHILD OF GOD. A CHILD OF PEACE."

The mother was settled down and Mkubwa continued working on his Vision Book.

I can't say that there's been a happy ending to Mkubwa's story, except that Andrew and the team sat with him for 'processing' this week. He listened intently and even prayed with the group.  Mkubwa is a Muslim and he's not ready to become a follower of Christ yet.

He is just one of the many boys in our program who are facing extremely harsh conditions in his home, his society and within himself.

We are learning from social workers and child protection professionals how we can better help boys like Mkubwa by bringing reconciliation inside of himself as well as with him and his community. Terminologies like case management and community based mechanisms aren't so spiritual but they are necessary in making lasting transformation.
Africa

Art Therapy for Child Soldiers

We launched an art therapy project with the Peacemakers in our reintegration program for former child soldiers this month with the help and guidance of Sam and Ellee Best, a newlywed couple (our age) with a multi-facetted art background.

Each kid in the program created their own book, which walked
them through positive and negative memories, heroes in their
life, obstacles in their life and goals for their future.
Each of the 100 boys in our program wrote and illustrated their own book while we walked them through the following principles.

Heroism. What is a hero? What makes a hero?

Memories. What are some of your favorite memories? What are some memories you don’t like?

Vision/Dreams. What would you like to see in the future? How do you want to interact with other people in your community?

Sam and Ellee Best, business entrepreneurs and artists
volunteered for two months to help us get the art therapy
program off the ground and to train our GOF-C team on
how to use art for healing. Ibrahim, one of our staff
began instructing the children by himself by following
their example. 
Obstacles. What is an obstacle? What is an obstacle you’ve overcome? What are some obstacles that you are facing?

Planning. Where would you like to see yourself in 1 years, 5 years and even 10 years?

Despite our teams obstacles such as logistics, contextualization, and limited supplies—we saw that this project was worth its weight in gold.

At one point while we were teaching in a small wooden room, rebels began to fight with each other and began shooting. It was a small incident that reminded all of us (the boys included) of the bad memories and upcoming obstacles they face, which many visualized by drawing pictures of AK-47’s in their books.

It was the first time for some of the boys in our program to
ever hold a writing utensil in their entire lives. 
It was the first time for some of the boys in our program to ever hold a pencil/marker/pen in their hands. Their caretakers helped them learn how to hold the writing tool as their hands shook and wobbled around the page.

Again, this reminded of us of how important it is to build the Training Center quickly. We sent half of the boys to school this year, but we hope to offer basic literacy and mathematics to the others who are not able enter into school because they are too far behind.
Just under his 'bad memory' where he wrote "they me to shoot
the guns," one boy drew a picture of his family, that is no longer
together due to death, disease and war. He wrote for his good
memory, "I'm in my family's home. My parents are there
and we were all happy."

The team returns to Masisi this week to begin ‘processing’ through the books with the boys. It’s an opportunity for the boys to gather in very small groups and share their book with peers and their caretakers. This exercise is completely voluntarily. We always tell the boys that they don’t have to share if they don’t want to.

This 10-year-old Peacemaker drew a school under the goals
section of the book. He wrote "I will build schools in my
village called Bukombo and when I am old, people will come
to me for advice.
We also hope to share the Gospel with them personally and give them an opportunity to accept Christ. We feel that the one-on-one time will be a good time to be intentional about directing their past, present and future to the only One who can really heal and make life whole. We aren’t twisting arms. We are praying that through a steady love and acceptance, they will find Christ and learn to walk with the Holy Spirit.

We need your prayers.

Most of what we are doing is a completely new concept in the areas that we work. They aren’t used to foreigners (from Goma or from other countries) doing mentorship, discipleship and relationship-building. They are used to instant relief, because of how long the war has continued in this area. This creates a mentality of ‘get as much as I can when I can out of them’. This can be emotionally draining on us and our staff, as we empty not only our pockets but our hearts and lives.

Our work is fragile, because the people we serve are fragile and our ability to relate to them can also be fragile. Here are some things to keep lifted up as the team goes to Masisi for ‘processing’.

  • Pray that every child will come into a personal relationship with Jesus.
  • Pray for the souls of the caretakers and for grace to train them well.
  • Pray for our vehicle and safety on the road.
  • Pray for peace and love to abide in the heart of every child we work with.
  • Pray for the Masisi Training Center to be built. We still need an extra $3,500 for it.
"We were worried that the older boys would think that this
project was stupid and not want to participate. But in fact,
they were the most attentive," said Ellee Best. 
Africa

Video: Where the Road Disappeared




*Note: this is a guest post from Pastor Blake Lorenz of Encounter Church, Orlando, Fla. explaining his experiences in DRC with the Roths and Global Outreach Foundation. 

 We have just returned from Masisi, a village three to six hours drive from Goma. The road is almost impossible to describe as it is unlike any road you have traveled. Fortunately the scenery is out of the Garden of Eden. The steep rising mountains are lush with green vegetation, producing stunning pictures of beauty unmatched by any I have ever seen. However, the road itself is a monster of ruts that can swallow an entire car, full of soupy mud or clay slick as ice.

On our journey vehicles are stuck , sometimes up to their frames in muck. They block the road because only one car at a time can pass. So, you find teams of people digging and pushing, others cars pulling with strong straps the stuck vehicle out of their predicament. The bumps jar, jar, jar...twice I struck my head on the window beside me hard enough to cause a concussion. Once, the road disappeared as we drove through a river!

If we had not the two best drivers in Congo, Andrew and Amethyst, we would not have finished our travels to Masisi or gotten home to Goma. I told Amethyst, she is doing what no other woman in Congo has done as she drives these roads. As we pass the people, who hug the roadside, which increases the danger as we slide sideways on the mud toward them, they are barely inches from getting hit, especially the kids. They marvel at seeing a woman drive. This is a sight unseen in this area of the Congo along these grand roads.

The dangerous trip is worth its weight in gold as we are able to minister to the pastors, child soldiers, caretakers, and people. Let me share some inner thoughts I recorded the night of our arrival.

Two hours into our drive to Masisi, I wonder why am I doing this? I am in the middle of the Congo, far from home. I feel miserable. My body aches from the constant jarring. My sinuses and chest are full of infection. I can not think clearly. If I try to close my eyes to sleep the bang of my head against the window or on the ceiling of the car awakens me to the road wars we face in driving on these paths through the mountains.

I am in Amethyst's car, following Andrew. Suddenly, I watch his vehicle disappear, swallowed up in a crater in the road. Then, without warning the road ends and we are crossing a flowing river. Five hours of this battle and I feel somehow God owes us combat pay, especially with rebel troops hiding in the mountains and soldiers along the road.

The roads literally swallow vehicles, blocking us for
sometimes hours at a time.
When we arrive, the team is exhausted and lethargic. Now, we are supposed to preach and minister to 35 pastors, who have eagerly gathered for inspiration. Welcome to evangelism in the Congo!

Twelve hours later, I lay in our tent praising God, in awe of His transforming work, doing only what God can do in people's lives. How does God use us to stir hearts, change lives, and heal bodies under impossible conditions? My sinuses cleared. I feel alive. 35 pastors and leaders prayed to be baptized in the Holy Spirit. Where they once never gathered together for prayer, they are ready to begin meeting for prayer to cry out to God for revival to awaken their territory to the hope of Christ. Child soldiers, traumatized by war have played soccer in the rain, laughed and had the gospel preached to them by Elijah, our translator. Their caretakers have been taught and encouraged by Steven. Hope fills the air like the glory of God that reigns on these mountains of beauty. Our team is pumped with excitement to see God move through Andrew and Amythest's leadership.

Those were my thoughts as I rested in prayer in the war torn village of Masisi, Congo. The next day our team of nine split in two and went to church separately to witness, preach, and minister. I visited one of the strongest churches I have been to in Africa. It was actually a large structure of wood and dirt floor. I was a little apprehensive if it might collapse. Only in Africa can such a structure exist of wooden poles and beams holding up a tin roof!

Our most recent team that went to Masisi (left to right):
Andrew, Chris, Claude, Elijah, Blake, Ellee, Sam and Steven
The service was full of life. They had an evangelist from Goma preach before me. I must admit I was somewhat intimidated as he gave a marvelous message in their own language. My flesh kept trying to discourage my spirit saying why do they need me to preach when they already have this outstanding preacher. I certainly cannot relate to these people like he is. So, I prayed in the Spirit, and soaked in his message. I cannot do anything anyway. It is all God.

I felt great freedom when I arose to preach with much joy and power in my heart. Even though the people had been sitting now for hours they were engaged. Needless to say, God worked mightily and the entire church cried out to God to be baptized in the Holy Spirit, to receive dreams and visions for a fresh vision to live for Jesus and His purposes. Then when we opened for healing the people stormed forward. I have to believe many were healed.

That night we went to the market area. It was pouring rain, as it is the rainy season. The clouds were heavy on the mountains and in the valley. Our only hope was prayer. So we took authority over the weather and sure enough the rain moved off all around us, but stopped in the village as we left for the event.

Crowds of children flocked to us as Chris, Steven and others entertained them with games and tricks. When Steven shared his testimony, hundreds were gathered. I then shared a brief message amidst the chaos of the kids and market place. It is a challenge to preach when you feel no one is listening, but they heard in the Spirit. Andrew then showed the Jesus film. They watched in awe as the life of Jesus played on a sheet held high by two wooden poles. People gave their lives to Christ in the mixture of the traditional village life and modern technology. ONLY GOD! Such is a weekend in the mountain village of Masisi.
4wd

Love Well, Hurt Well

I had the false impression that when I found the man that I would marry, the days of emotional attachment and heartbreak would be over.

After all, isn’t it during that awkward mezzanine in life of leaving our father and mother, and making our own family the time where we break hearts and have our hearts broken in search for the one?
Photo Credit: Abigail Smith Photography
This may be true.

But getting married has left me with no shortage of heartbreak. It’s only earned me someone to console and speak words of life over me, when the heartbreak comes.

I’m learning that if we are to truly love well throughout our life. Heartbreak is a part of life.

“You love so wholly.” 
“You are so present in every situation.” 
“You have so much passion.”

These are compliments that I commonly get. It’s a part of my identity, I guess. One person observed it this way.

When you’re joyful, you overflow. 
When you’re angry, you can change the atmosphere of the whole building. 
When you’re sad, you’re completely broken. 
When you love, you pour out everything that you have on who ever you’re giving that love to. 

I can’t explain what a blessing and curse this is at the same time.

When I love, I love well.
But when I hurt, I hurt so deeply.

I haven’t found a dynamic, which offers the same genuine love to someone else without the intensity of the pain when love seems to have failed them and my heart is seemingly crushed by what they have or haven’t done.

Is it possible to separate love from expectation? This is a question that I don’t have an answer to. Maybe I’m writing this post in the hopes that someone out there does and will Skype me to explain it all.

The truth is that working with people from different ministries, professions, countries and cultures has forced me to face so much of my own immaturity, insecurity and willful blindness regarding how to walk this life while dying to myself and living in Christ.

Anyway, I don’t know what this post is about except for a reflection of how short I fall in discipling myself and other people. I’m full of poor judgments, reactive thinking and I smother the people that I fall in love with.

Pray for God to refine me and define me so that I can be more effective in wasting my life for His cause. I repent for all the shortcomings, which many of you who read this blog have seen in me or will probably see in me soon.

If God can use me to at all to reach a warzone, he could use anyone.

I just wish the ‘anyones’ would come alongside and help us.

Pray also, for laborers from foreign places to come and become family: covenant relationships that will work the harvest with us.
Africa

Rebels, Rumors & Threats

A rumor started that we are taking children from the main rebel group that controls the area and are going to report their leader to the International Criminal Court at the Hague.

The rebel group threatened to kill all of our caretakers, our GOF-Congo staff and then chase our organization from the area.

This all happened while we were on a mini-vacation in Kampala, Uganda. Yikes!
A common site in the area that we work.
Under 18? I think yes. 
Yet again, God reveals to us the fragility of our manmade projects and programs without some kind of divine protection and plan.

The United Nations, Congolese national army (known as FARDC), local government officials, territory administrator, local security representative, national police, and other local authorities became involved.

UN officials, who we were personally acquainted with, went to the rebels and explained our vision and projects in Masisi. The territory administrator (equivalent to our county clerk or administrator in the US) also tried to talk some sense into the situation.

The rebel leaders came from their remote location for a sensible meeting but all of this couldn’t be done without some cost: $165 for food, lodging, accommodation and of course beer, and the matter was settled: at least just briefly…

Just after we bought the land in Masisi, Andrew found
himself negotiating meeting with rebels.
They wanted to have a heart-to-heart with Andrew.

So, just on the heels of buying our first piece of property as an organization, Andrew was obliged to meet with the rebel group’s regional leader.

After hours of nothing but muddy road, three colonels and two hours of talking, they finally arrived at a resolution. No one would be killed, our vision was explained, and all parties were satisfied.

 Some cents (pun intended) and sensibility and we are able to work in Masisi without problems. The rebel group has agreed to protect our activities from being stopped by anyone.

Interesting Backstory...
We received three messages from various people during the night and morning when Andrew was dealing with the regional leaders of the rebel group. The messages were different, but shared a similar theme. For seemingly no apparent reason-- people were being lead to pray for us more intently. 

So, if you're ever thinking about us-- maybe it is for a reason. Pray!
Africa

Time to Build

Andrew called this evening from the village to proudly announce that we (Global Outreach Foundation – Congo) are the owners of a one acre plot between the main road and the river 15 kilometers from Masisi Central.

We have the deed and all papers signed and sealed. The village chief added extra square meters to the plot, he said. 

Click to see the full overview
We start building a bullet-proof multi-purpose Training Center this month. 

The Masisi Training Center, like other TCs, is meant for the community— but it has a special focus on offering healing and education to children who are coming out of the war. The Peacemaker Program is based around this center.

Andrew and a friend made an image of our future Training Center on the property that now belongs to us.

He also placed the Toyota Land Cruiser that we are raising money for beside the Training Center.

What do you think?

Click to view the full Masisi Training Center 
acpls

Where have all the displaced people gone?

We’ve had to make the difficult decision not to return back to Kibati again until the fighting stops.  

Bombs rang out throughout the city a week ago, coming from this precious little village at the bottom of the volcano.

The place is desolate and there’s no one there anymore. But where have all the internally displaced people gone?

Kibati was once home to a Internally Displaced People (IDP) camp of 40,000 refugees in their own country along with the local population of the Bakuma tribe. The camp had moved almost a year ago when rebels used the village as resting place before overtaking Goma last November.

But what about all the other residents?


Our staff heard about new ‘rapid camps’ forming just outside of Goma. A ‘rapid camp’ is a camp for internally displaced people that has formed so quickly that it has no major international organization to protect or sanction it. Rapid camps form only in major humanitarian disasters like that of Syria, Bosnia and the former Genocide in Rwanda. Congo’s rapid camps form everyday and the world never hears about them.

As Andrew and the team stood at the Training Center, doing a seminar with our disciples about using prayer and worship to transform communities, Grace (our Women’s Outreach Coordinator) and I went on a different mission.

If we can’t go back to Kibati, we can at least find where these people are. So, we got into our Toyota 4Runner and drove to the outskirts of the city.

“Where are the displaced people from Kibati?” we asked.

At first we went to Sotraki, a community on the outskirts of the city. People who had fled there were already gone.

The residents of Sotraki sent us 10 km further from the city to Buhimba. We drove up to a brand new camp of more than 20,000 internally displaced people. The Bakumu people from Kibati were part of those 20k people. After encountering one drunken soldier and many curious children, we found the responsible of the camp.

They welcomed us with open arms.

“Please come and visit us.” Said the president of the camp. “even if its just to pray with us. It would bring so much comfort. We just want to go back home.” The next day, we sent a team of 30 people from the Goma Training Center (GTC) to bring worship and prayer to the camp. Almost half of the Congolese from the GTC had never stepped foot into a camp before.

I can’t tell you what an honor it is to see people that we have discipled for more than 2 years begin to take everything that they have learned and apply it.

We saw our disciples pour their love on the people of Buhimba camp that day. They sang, they prayed and they even gave from the little that they had to make the day of ministry happen.

I’m learning that there is something even sweeter then seeing the face of Jesus in the broken and unlovely. The sweetest moments are when you see the people you’ve poured into, cried with, yelled at and have broken bread with begin to pour themselves out for the face of Jesus. The same face that caused you to waste your life for them.
Africa

Love and War

The sky was overcast and the feeling was tense. Could our group be being watched?

The answer is yes. Our group was being watched. A spy from a prominent rebel group, M23, sent one of their men in civilian clothes to find out why a group of Mzungus (whites/foreigners) were on top of a mountain, harvesting beans in the rain.

The men worked on the chukudu and tried to ignore
Andrew and the group. 
Andrew and our disciples went to Kibati, a village just 15 km from Goma, to find a way to make a relationship with the community, or at least whoever was left after the war had caused more than half of the community to flee. Andrew and the team stumbled upon four young men building a chukudu. A chukudu is a large wooden bike/scooter used by local people in this region to transport large items, sometimes up to 500 pounds.

The men were angry.

“If you don’t have any money or food to give us, then you should just leave,” they said.

Andrew did not back down so easily. He asked what the problem was. Why they were unable to get food from their farms. The men expressed how they were starving because their beans were being wasted in their farms.

“We’ve spent all this time planting beans and now we cannot even go get them for harvesting. We worked hard …and we are still starving.” They were discouraged.

The men continued to explain that when they would harvest their beans, the militia would suddenly arrive on their farm and force them to give all of the fruit of their labor to the soldiers. 

A chukudu is local tool used for
carrying heavy items.
“Why don’t we go with you to get the beans?” Andrew said to the men. “We have a car and those militia won’t bother you if they see that you’re with us.”

The men looked at him like he was crazy. They were probably thinking, 'Are you sure about that?'

Andrew waited in silence for 15 minutes as the men sat with their heads down.

Our group sat in awkward silence, wondering many things:
Is this a good idea? 
Are these men just going to reject us again? 
Do they want us to leave? 

The men finally looked up.

 “Let’s go.”

 The men ran to their houses and got their baskets, bags and rain gear, then everyone piled into our Toyota 4Runner and drove up the mountain. Andrew and our group from GOF-C, harvested a bushel of beans that day. The men were so happy that they even gave us a bag full of beans. Although M23 did come to inquire why we were there, we were never bothered.

Kibati, a once thriving village has become a ghost town
due to its strategic bufferzone location during war.
We sent the men on their way that day with more than a Bible verse or an evangelistic message. We sent them with Love, displayed by actions. We became more than foreigners that day to those men. We became friends. And suddenly, the Gospel came alive.

We said our goodbyes to those men only a few days ago, as they took their chukudus out of their small village and fled.

That night bombs fell all through the night.

I don’t know when Andrew will see these men again. I don’t even know where they are hiding. But I do know that the bombs won’t last forever.

Giselle and Grace are members of the Goma Training
Center. They work faithfully beside us to minister in places
where many Congolese men don't are afraid to go,
let alone women. 
We will all return to Kibati again. We will build a Training Center there. And these men will one day play a monumental role in letting us into their community.

Not because we have money.
Not because we are white.
Not because we negotiated our way into the community.

Only, because we went with them to shamba (farm) when the rebels threatened their livelihood. Only, because for one day, we empowered them to feed their families.

Only, because for one day the preacher got off the pulpit and pulled weeds in a farm within ear shout of rebels.
Africa

Pray: Kingdom Culture

"All things to all people,” is what Paul said. But too often we can take that out of context and constrain it to justifying compromise in our lives. “All things to all people,” should draw us to our knees and into the Ancient Texts more deeply. 

We live on the top two floors of this large house that
has been converted into two separate flats. We share this house
with a Congolese family. 
We returned to Congo last Saturday and are unpacking, having board meetings, hiring new staff, as well as casting and implementing vision for the GOF-Congo team. God has brought us such a diverse group of Congolese: lawyers, teachers, university students, security officers and people with very different ethnic, denominational and socio-economic backgrounds.

Although, we have namely dealt with legalities, paperwork, administration and planning, all which are required to do anything—I’ve been looking a little deeper at our Congo family.

Do they really know the Holy Spirit?

Congolese are particularly intellectual people. But, what is the downfall of an intellectual? It’s their mind.

What does it matter if we have a faithful, qualified and diverse team of people in Congo, if we can’t hear from the Holy Spirit?

I’ve learned that the same bondage the western world has put upon itself to wrap its mind around tongues, prophecy and all the supernatural gifts is the same bondage I see in our own friends and family in Congo.

Andrew and I face three layers of cultural barriers:

Andrew discussing the Timothy Program with Joseph. This
program identifies leaders of former child soldiers and
trains them on how to facilitate reintegration
into their village.
1. The African or Bantu layer: the most obvious layer, which is often opposite to western culture. What’s considered a compliment here can be taken pretty offensively where we are from. Take this for example.  Africans often spout compliments as questions.

African: “Can I have your shirt?” (this is a compliment)

Now add the Congo-style forward and directness: “Give me your shirt.”

 Now this seems like an easy solution. Just say no.

Wrong. You see, in African culture, you should not say “no,” directly. It can hurt a relationship.

Africans LOVE playing around with words. And since Congolese are intellectual—they are really good at it. The solution is that you say something witty to indirectly say that you aren’t giving away your shirt.

2. The French layer: cultural experts say that French culture is as opposite to US culture as is Japanese culture. Congo is a French-colonized country and there are all kinds of things that throw us for a loop, because of this layer of culture. To say that the French language is a cultural barrier is only scratching the surface to something far deeper.

3. The flesh/mind layer: this layer is present for anyone who is trying to teach about the Holy Spirit. It doesn’t make sense intellectually.

View of the Nyiragongo Volcano from outside our house.
I write with tears in my eyes, because I desire so intensely for the people we work with to get it. I know that it is our responsibility as leaders to help this Kingdom culture come into fruition in the organization. I’m not sure how to do this except constant prayer, worship and fasting.

It will be impossible to get anything done if we try and pretend that we are like any of these large non-governmental organizations or intergovernmental organizations (i.e. International Red Cross, UNICEF or World Vision). Goma does not need another organization. It needs the Kingdom. The Kingdom cannot come to earth if we are not a peculiar people lead by the Holy Spirit.

My prayer is not for better framework or infrastructure—although these are definite needs!

My prayer is that every member of GOF-C will operate in the Holy Spirit with gifts of tongues, prophecy, faith and even dreams, picture and visions on a regular basis.
Africa
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