Congo: a darkness profound.

            Sometimes one finds themself standing in a place so overwhelming and unsettling they are left to surrender to the arms of God or fall to the situation.  This was indeed one of those times.

            The schedule was for me to assist Mike and Marigold in hosting a Masters Commission to evangelize in the Masai Mara and then head into the interior of the Democratic Republic of Congo.  The schedule made sense and was approaching rapidly.  I was thoroughly enjoying the company of my wife, daughter, and newly arrived son Gabriel as the date to depart crept up on me.  I imagined that leaving those two precious girls and my 7 week old boy would be more tolerable than it was when the moment to pass airport security came.  locating my seat on the plane I prayed a familiar prayer for mercy to reach all my connections and get my luggage at journeys end.  After loosing so many bags over the years and wearing the same clothes for several days at a time when this happens, such a prayer is advisable.  Favor was attending my ways as I arrived whole and hale in the familiar Jomo Kenyata International Airport.

            The following days were in a word "typical".  We met our team and made way for the Ewaso Neero area for ministry.  We had a thick dossier of hopes and dreams to accomplish in our short time.  We hoped to finish a new bible training center and establish new works among the unreached.  We were successful on all fronts really with many salvations and finding 3 new places to establish works.  The Master's Commission from Crossroads Assembly in Lafayette Louisiana were those who comprised our team.  A wonderful group of people, who, made parting for the second part of my mission in Congo tough.  But after hitting the Mara region with fervor my heart was primed for more.

            A day of travel lay ahead of me and great wonder.  beginning the journey from Nairobi with a short stop in Uganda, I arrived for my first sights and impressions on Congo while flying into Bunia (a government city).  Crossing the large lakes on the way for the first 2 hours of flight, when I hit the land that was the border of Congo it was like a slap to the face because the countryside was on fire.  Whether these were all a result of conflicts or not, the evidences of fighting were everywhere.  Sliding into our landing pattern my eyes scanned the city below.   Buildings blown out, burned down, and knocked over dotted the cityscape.  The smoke rising from the burning countryside created a haze we sailed through speeding towards the dirt runway that lay next to the one room airport. bumping our way along the dirt landing way I was acutely aware of the powerful showing of UN force.  Helicopters, planes, and tent camps for refugees outlined the airport.  This was no more than a stop over along the way to my destination  of Butembo, DRC.  I was instructed to go and check in with border control before I could proceed.  This is always one of those times that cause concern in the heart of a world traveler.  The fact is, there is no more troublesome place during travel than a border/government checkpoint.  It is at these places you will stand the best chance to experience corruption.  I stepped into the single room of the airport where the scene was something from a old black and white movie with slow moving fans and sweat covered officials looking at me like dinner just arrived.  I was hustled to stand before a woman who was I assumed the representative I would work with.  She spoke little English and resented me for not fluently conversing in French.  I was informed that a "first time visitor" tax was going to apply.  Now I know this is extortion, but really my options are slim.  I could stay there and argue my rights to enter because I have paid the needed visa fees however I would miss my plane taking off for my destination.  I could also pay the "tax" and get on my plane to arrive where I know people are waiting to escort me through the remainder of my trip in DRC.  As the plane left Bunia, I looked back on the city (torn by war) and felt it was money well spent to continue my journey.

            Arriving to Butembo my contacts were waiting for me upon touchdown.  The time in flight was a blur as I tried to take in the intimidating  rainforest and mountainous terrain.  It was here that The adventure truly begins with my feet on the ground and a mission field at every side.  Immediately we were received by some local pastors and my assignment was laid at my feet.  Normally I focus on introductions to Jesus but the folks who had asked me to come wanted teaching as well.  In truth the lion share of the ministry in DRC was proposed to be spent instructing the religious leaders of the area.  I must say, at first I was dismayed by this as I don't fill this facility often.  The need for teaching became quickly evident.  The following days would be spent teaching 200 men of God for 4 hours each morning on the simple truths of the Gospel.  My thought was I would need to delve into deep truths of the word in order to be useful to these men of God.  I was made aware of exactly how wrong I was.  It was a situation where people had been introduced to Jesus and the idea that they COULD live in Christ but teaching had fallen short of really explaining HOW to live in Christ.  Let me example what I mean.  In one evangelical church, a couple of deacon leaders were in contest for the lead role.  Unable to settle this themselves, the church gave them knives and they fought to the death in the alter.  I'm not kidding, the one that died obviously didn't have God's favor in their eyes.  In another church they had many unwed single women. The pastor decided to hand these women off to already married men in order to be cared for and be used as a wife physically.  In another matter the pastor sent his wife away and chose for himself a women from the congregation.  One pastor would hire hit men to literally execute people who would speak bad about him or his church.  It was understood among the clergy, requiring payment before prayers would be offered on behalf of sufferers was acceptable.  Delving into deep and mysterious truths of Gods word would not be required. Simply sharing the basic conduct of those who call them selves Christians was  needed.  Base words of unity, care, selfless service, and belief for the amazing uttered from a friend of the maker was what these folk received.

            In translation things can be lost when planning a trip like this one.  Of coarse the trip to Congo was no different.  In early staging I was under the impression I was coming into the country for exploration more than anything else.  I was prepared for such with my bible and a notebook in tow.  I was not prepared for 4 hours of teaching daily.  The evenings were spent in the barb wire surrounded compound I was resigned to.   having met only 2 people who could really speak conversational English, I had plenty of time for study and thoughts.  the feeling of being lost to all the rest of the world and knowing how many men like me had given their life in this country was overwhelming.  A face of death and oppression loomed in front of me constantly.  The dynamic of the country's dangers could be summed up into Rwandans, Ugandans, private militaries, the UN, and the national army all trying to secure the resources which make this country one of the richest in our world.  When driving from place to place we seemed to drive just fast enough not to be in danger of being taken by rebels and just slow enough to avoid being wrapped around a tree while traveling on these rainforest roads.  Even in the cities of a million people there is no running water, electricity, or pavement on the roads.  These were early victims of the war here.  More than once my resolve to stay was tested.  The Lord was so faithful.

            Several days into ministry I was treated to the joy of my heart, Exploratory Missions.  I headed out to the Oriental Provence to meet the mythic Pygmy.  I had heard stories of the pygmy for years and assumed it was more Riply's believe or not tall tales.  This was no tale, this was truth.  A whole people group which stood no taller than 4.5 ft tall and I was to spend time with them.  I was warned prior to reaching these folk we would see no salvations.  I was told the message of Christ was a difficult thing for a people who worshiped the forest.  I am happy to report these folks responded to my testimony and many were saved.  Opportunities to pray for the sick ended in several miracles.  God surly was in control as we ministered.  completing our ministry and heading back to town tragedy struck us.  I smelled rubber burning and had the one driving to stop so I could look under the hood.  Our serpentine belt was shredding and we were hours from anywhere to repair it since it was the rainforest that surrounded us.  On faith I closed the hood and got back in the car and we proceeded.  Another car was accompanying us.  We came upon a UN convoy of 2 ambulances, 2 land cruiser, and a lead APC.  The car with us decided to pass the convoy and as he tried to pass the APC in front, the APC ran him off the road.  The car wrecked in a cloud of dust while the APC kept going.  The two land cruiser sped past the scene.  The 2 ambulances came upon the wreck and paused long enough to see there were wounded people and then moved on.  I got out and ran over to the accident.  Heading to the man who was worst wounded I began to pray.  God did not choose to heal in an immediate way.  Directly the meager first aid training I have had went to work  to immobilize the shattered arm of this injured man.  At this point we needed to get this man to help.. two hours away.  The only vehicle that was available was the failing transportation sitting on the rainforest road only yards away.  If we were caught in this jungle after dark our safety would come to an end.  we had to get this wounded brother and ourselves out to safety.  Loading the wounded man into the vehicle I spent the next 2 hours praying in tongues over the car and the man.  Upon arrival to town we safely delivered the man to good hands and found sanctuary for myself.  Almost at the moment these things were accomplished, the car died completely.

            These are just a few stories of the remarkable time I experienced in the DRC.  If the occasion comes for me to share more, I certainly will.

            The ministry was amazing and God has stretched me.  I was placed on a spiritual anvil and God shattered me.  He then picked up the pieces; leaving the poor and investing better than I had before.  I was caught in a moment of destiny and for that I am a better man.  After nearly a month abroad with my young family waiting for my return, I was still torn to get on the plane and head back out to familiar places.  Forever changed by a people who are caught between battling armies driven by greed and the word of God being withheld simply because of difficulty for delivery.  I found myself changed in a profound way.  In the course of this month some 1400 persons were saved, many were healed, and some were filled with the Holy Spirit.  The Democratic Republic of Congo has been outside of the hand of ministry for many years.  God dealt with me in my teens about going to this place and now he has seen it realized.  This moment in destiny has not come and gone without making me different and I pray the ministry we had there will make a difference in eternity.