hey....back into Bonjoge. My old stomping grounds were once again trampled underneath my size 10 Harleys. For two days i was able to visit the area of western Kenya where i taught for two years. The drive into the country of kenya from up north was bumpy, very dusty and filled with bruises and even a flat tire. Typical Kenya. God certainly is to be thanked. How great it felt to visit everyone that I lived with for two years. The Chichir family, my headmaster Elias Cheriuyot and also many of my fellow teachers had the pleasure of being the recipients once again of my sarcastic humor. I was the recipient of their great fellowship an company again. Great ugali, a wonderful wedding ( Congrats Elly ) and what a terrible drive back to finish it.....accept ....naw. It all was a blessing. Even the bumpy Matatu ride back into nairobi. The Lord was generous to me. Matthew

LIFE in Torit..... November 2007

“ A Vision with a Task makes a Missionary”

Lord, may this be the case. “ Torit, is becoming the small Babylon.” Said Julius, a local Kenyan worker who I saw reading on his own the book of Thessalonians.

How right he is. At night here in Torit you can hear the drunkenness and debauchery. It’s everywhere. Even last night we were all praying here in Torit. Phil and Linda, The Nobles, Meghan, Kelly and I, when we heard the outside bell ring. Phil returned about five minutes later and said, “ There is a young lady, saying she is looking for Matthew Lovelace.!” I am thinking, OK. Hmmmm.

I went outside in the darkness with Phil and sure enough, there was a young, pretty high school aged girl, looking quite intoxicated and lost. She kept repeating my name and emphasizing that she wanting me for……. Eventually, we convinced her that she needed to return home and not be hanging outside the gate. She did, then returned shortly later that evening. It is sobering the level of need for the young in Torit .

A day later Linda Byler and I were walking to the local Torit Hospital. There is an AIM doctor from Uganda coming this next week to perform eye cataract surgeries. As we were outside the hospital I saw a young teacher from the Torit Day School shouting my name from a far. He came close, grasped my hand and immediately I could see that Vincent was extremely intoxicated. I took his hand, kept looking into his eyes and asking him how he was…really was? It was only maybe four in the afternoon. Literally two hours after school had just ended. And this guy was already smashed sadly! I have noticed other teachers as well leaving school, then returning with bloodshot eyes after lunch. Sad. Anyway, the teacher and I talked a little then he left me, returning to his home. He boasted then about the four beers he had and said as he left, “ Matthew, we are preparing for battle, we are prepared to fight!” Perhaps he was a former soldier. I would say though that his attitude reflects a growing number of young men around me.

The Torit day school resembles a bombed out collection of large outhouses.

Well, not exactly, but close. The area itself has about eight main buildings. Each has a nasty, gray color to the outside and all are very outdated. This contrasts to the extreme with the Torit Primary elementary School that is brand new, named after the late Sudanese leader John Garang and is beautifully constructed. How this happened? I would reply in Arabic “ Ana ma aruf?’ I have no idea. Sudan!

One of my prayers recently has been immersing myself into the Sudanese culture. Language, relationship building, and teaching. Africans and African educational leadership highly values the sciences. When I met with the Deputy Educational Leader of the Government of the South Sudan, James Amoko, I joked that my father was a science and biology teacher! And then I said, “ Yeah, he didn’t pass any of those science genes onto me though!” Mr. Amoko looked sternly, though not angrily at me, and stated bluntly…“ that is too bad, he should have!” End of discussion. Thankfully, the Lord has given me the chance to be persuasive and persistent in seeking that which He puts on my heart. God opened the doors into the school system amidst the initial refusal of two men. The Government of South Sudan Educational Deputy Minister, and then the Principal of the Torit School itself. Without the Lord’s help, those would be two pretty big no-no’s into working. When Phil had originally met with these men at first many weeks earlier their initial reactions were…not good toward a missionary/foreign teacher “infiltrating” their school systems. Especially, a teacher with no science background!

I love having my back against the wall. In the sit down discussions/interrogations with both men I was honest, forthright and truly trusting that Christ could remove any boundaries that laid in the hearts of these two important men. But yeah, I was sweating a little bit. I asked God to allow me to be a trailblazer for His work here in Torit. As AIM, we need inroads into the local community here of Torit. Teaching is the first step into the city really. Now, I have a job and base of work, acceptance, and relation to the community. I fill a tangible need and a respected position at that. We can continue to lift up and pray now for the salvation of the men within the school system. Mr. Perligreno as the Torit Head teacher has since been very welcoming to me and our relationship has blossomed. God, God, God all the way!

I of course am not certified in any science field. Yet, I had been praying much recently over becoming a more vital part of teaching. This meant looking into a science field for me. Biology is about plants and animals right, how hard can that be! So I borrowed a copy of the Sudanese Secondary Education Curriculum book and copied out the entire syllabus outline for years one and two. I then prayed about asking into teaching the field of Biology. I finished writing, reviewed everything related the Biology field, then walked into Mr. Perligreno’s office and approached him with the syllabus booklet. I offered to teach Biology! And thankfully, he accepted. A new challenge for the coming year.

The Torit staff is split in two sections. The teaching staff is half Arabic, meaning teachers from the Northern Sudan ( Khartoum ) and the other half is Sub-Saharan African instructors. The Sudanese curriculum is in shambles. There are NO books to be used by the students. And there may be two hundred or more students. The past few days after returning from Ikotos my entire task was to understand the Sudanese system of education by asking questions of the Deputy Headmaster and the staff. To my surprise, this only complicated the situation. No teacher is even sure of when the exams will show up. The staff of about thirty have/share maybe one textbook for the entire school!

Further confusing the situation is that the law requires an Arabic curriculum and English curriculum. So literally half of my teaching co-workers are Northern Arabic speaking, sent by the Northern government to instruct the Southern Black students in Arabic. Another motivation for me to immerse myself in the local Arabic. So there is an Arabic stream of students and an English speaking and learning stream of students. Learning Arabic now is a great value. I do believe that part of truly loving people in another culture is learning the language.

I have made this my goal to be done so completely, even to the point of walking around the town with my notepad and memory cards for using not just Arabic, but funny, Swahili as well. The rest of the Torit Day School teaching staff comes from Uganda, Kenya, and nearby areas of the South Sudan. Outreach is right in front of me now!

One of the difficulties that we have encountered to a degree here in the Sudan is developing a strong, outreach mindset with the Africa Inland Church leadership.

So much of the local AIC leaders are interested only in local church planting and missionary staffing at their local institutions. Adding to the problem I believe is the AIC concentration on their own people groups and local areas. Phil has felt this “pressure.” When the AIC leaders discovered that a new, young missionary teacher was coming into the Sudan their was an overwhelming sense of agreement, made without my consultation that I would be “placed” in Ikotos. The local AIC leaders were very, very much desiring the new, young missionary man ( me) to be in Ikotos. My opinions and heart felt leadings were not in the discussions. Phil courageously stated to the AIC Church leader of the Eastern Equitorea State of the Sudan that he couldn’t just demand and mandate that an AIM missionary go to a local place. But that God would call that person to the location that He willed. Many of the AIC South Sudan leadership staff were themselves former soldiers. The military mind set goes deep, even amongst the believers in the country. So a personal prayer request of mine has been the AIC Torit Church to see the VALUE of outreach. Not just church planting and local tribal school ties…. This needs to develop for true reconciliation.

After arriving back into Torit I immediately returned to the Torit day School. Phil and I met with Mr. Perligreno, the Headmaster and we clarified the nature of my work. We set up a contract agreement that he thankfully accepted without questions. Seeing faith in action amazes me!

More about Ikotos.... the blind & the lame

November, 2007

Ikotos was also amazing for the following

I met a young, single blind man named Willie. He stopped by in the morning and once sunny AM I took the liberty to describe for him what colors feel like.

Black people are the color of the heat of the sun, white people are the color of coolness. We laughed then played thumb wars together. God has blessed me by allowing me to see; How does Willie See? Laughter is definitely healing to the soul mom and dad and family. Willie laughed and laughed at all my antics and botched Arabic numbers, and just joking around in English.

Ambrose, a man who lives in Ikotos met me. Ambrose has legs which were born deformed. He cannot walk. Each day, he crawls on his two arms throughout the town and also to the huts and house where we stayed each morning. He knows English well and one morning we got into a discussion on singleness. Why am I single? Ambrose wondered why I had not yet married? I like to think the Lord will provide, but why no now, I honestly feel He has work that will reward the Kingdom still as a single man. He wants me to be.

Ambrose is single because he is lame. He cannot walk. Women do not want a man that cannot work and support them, he is not valued as masculine. But he is so masculine, a tough, Godly man that must crawl on hands and knees in the hot, Sudan sun every day. So we talked about purity, singleness, and our desires for a mate. But wow, are perspectives were as different as our skin colors and life experiences. Very sobering. “Lord, thank you for the use of my legs.”

Reverend Tobiolo shared with us the deadly encounters with he Lord’s resistance Army. A few years ago the LRA attacked his local Sudanese village. They destroyed the area and murdered many of the people of Ikotos. Tobiolo said that after witnessing the bloody murders his faith was almost gone. Only his wife brought him back, back into an attitude of forgiveness and reconciliation. How can I not quickly forgive a Sudanese police officer that humiliates me for fun. Tobiolo has to wrestle with the complete murder of a group of friends and family. The stories that many of these people LIVED is heartbreaking.

Snakes bite. Scorpions sting. Thankfully, I have never experienced this first hand. But two local Ikotos people did visit our home while we were there after experiencing these dangers. The local missionary family, Jordan and Andrea Scotland, have a battery that can be used as a sting/bite shocker. How exactly it works??? No idea. But it does work by administering a shock that radiated through the person’s infected leg or arm and helps remove the toxicity. Medically it is said to be not possible, but after witnessing the treatment first hand two times. Once I was the battery charger guy, I believe in it’s power.

Events of Nov 15, 2007 .. Journey to Ikotos

Events of Nov. 15, 2007 Journey to Ikotos:

Romans 8:28 “ All things work out for good for those who are called.”

Where Lord do you want me? How many times had I asked that question? After this past week God has answered numerous prayers and spoken clearly as to His path for this stage of my life. After a year of praying and communicating over the assignment possibilities in both Ikotos ( rural Sudan ) and Torit I finally had the chance to see in person the Ikotos area and community.

As with any journey anywhere into Sudan the time was exciting, confusing and slightly unnerving. Ikotos is a small, market centered community that has a small but growing Africa Inland Church mission’s school for the local Sudanese community. As the school is associated with the African Inland Church, many of the local pastors were strongly pushing for another Kuwanja ( Arabic for white person ) to be the teacher, or head teacher at the school. As I have been looking at returning into Africa, and knowing my skills as a teacher, Ikotos was heavy on my heart and mind. Much of my prayer life the past year focused on whether the Lord was asking me to join a rural community again in Africa and help start and run this school.

On the 15^th of November we flew into Ikotos. We took a small, chartered missionary plane and left Torit. The flight itself was short in duration and allowed me to view the whole of the countryside. Much of this area of the very South Sudan had, at one time, been completely run by the Lord’s Resistance Army of Northern Uganda. So much of the Southern Sudan has been engulfed in two separate and terrible conflicts. The LRA and the Civil War. Many large hills and mountains dotted the area and the beauty of the colors will hopefully be clear in the photos. It was a short, but beautiful flight.

Ikotos is a small town set into the local mountains. We arrived and I stayed in the Tukul hut of Meghan Baird, an AIM short term teacher in Ikotos. Meghan, along with Kelly Miller and Linda Byler, were subjected to my male presence for the better half of four days. And all are still alive and well as I write this letter from Torit. As a guy I had been wrestling with the Lord as to my presence still as a missionary in the Sudan. Torit was home, but I also needed peace in my heart over visiting Ikotos and seeing the school. It was a very unexpected, and to an extent, humiliating confrontation with a power wanting Sudanese security official in Ikotos that reminded me of Christ like humility.

On Saturday, Linda, Kelly, Meghan and I walked to the local, small police district headquarters in Ikotos. We brought our identification papers, the ladies their passports and me the photocopies. The man sat us down, smiled often, then began writing out the passport information in a little, old fashioned notepad book.

No problem, he writes, we smile, we go…on into the day. However, after he wrote down the passport numbers he then looked at the one young man in the audience, me, and his turned red. “ You my friend, where is your passport!”

Passport! I’m thinking, “ My passport, we’ll you got the photocopy right there man, what do you mean?” It was not dawning on me, with all my personal and interpersonal skills ( spiritual gifts anyone ) that he was ticked! But I had done nothing ‘wrong’ so I was struggling with why this man’s blood pressure was becoming clearly evident through his scalp. Along with us the Ikotos head AIC Pastor, Tobiolo came to escort us. Thank the Lord for that development. Soon, the angry Ikotos security official was speaking in Arabic with the local, Ikotos pastor; Reverend Tobiolo is a very Godly man, well respected in Ikotos and was there speaking now on my behalf. The Sudanese police chief finally relented and allowed the three women to go back to the huts and collect my passport.

My emotions. I apologized profusely, was genuinely sorry that now there was a strained relationship in the local area between the police and missionaries. He tried repeatedly to humiliate me, in front of the other four people, and then gave grunted permission for the women to go. “ My friend, if you are lying to me….”

His threats all followed this train of communication. When the ladies left reverend Tobiolo asked for his permission to hear me. For ten minutes I finally expressed everything that he seemed to be accumulating for eight weeks of time in Africa.

“ I am sorry,” I said. “ But I did nothing intentionally wrong, and have also spent one year, praying for the Sudan, praying for HOW the Lord will use me to help rebuild this country! Your country! I have left my family, my schools, my house, my car, everything I knew.!” I continued like this for about five to six minutes and instead of digging myself a hole I seemed to come across finally as a person. I quickly shared my entire life, ( basically ) emphasizing the Lord’s guiding me into the Sudan, my heart for his people and the sacrifice to just come. His eyes looked everywhere but at mine, he at times pointed his pen at my face but always kept quiet. It wasn’t anger, but genuine hurt I felt.

Twenty minutes later the ladies returned, with the passport. The police man took the passport, reopened the book and wrote down the exact same information he had written out earlier. He was surprised to find that I wasn’t eighteen years old!

His entire thinking was that I was not even twenty year old, just a young, punk from the America that needed a good kicking in Sudanese respect. Now. As our Father works this is how the story ended. After writing out the passport information, I started joking with the police officer. Within a few minutes the following things happened: He started to smile, he began laughing, he took my hand and we walked outside together, hand in hand! In Africa culture, men hold hands as comrades and friends, personal touch between men in this way is a strong symbol for friendship. We parted as respected friends. Only God could answer those sweaty, mental prayers for help. Lord willingly, I may again see him.

The remainder of the time in Ikotos was eventful afterwards more for spiritual clarity then mental wrangling and waging with a police officer. The headmaster of the Ikotos AIC School is a man named Job Otieno. Job is a Lou man from Kenya. I immediately liked him when we met and over the next few days we had much time together. My Swahili started to get a lot more use all over again. Thankfully, the home stay in Mathias Akabati and Bianca Akabati’s house made all the language of Swhaili fresh in my mind. Job felt called by the Lord to go to the Sudan and help rebuild a school. He didn’t know for sure where, until he providentially ran into Phil Byler on a trip to Juba, Sudan. The men met, spoke, then traveled together. Then, as often happens in Africa, they both got stuck together on a terribly muddy road. It was here that Job and Phil communicated over the need for the Ikotos AIC school to have a leader. Job felt this was the school and area the Lord wanted for him.

For how long I had been praying for Ikotos. Now, to be here in person, to meet the local people, pastor, and now headteacher…and to miss the ministry in Torit. That was everything. The local Africa Inland Church leaders strongly pushed Phil Byler to send me, on command almost, to Ikotos. After visiting the area, I am so thankful for God placing me into the heart of the Torit school system, community, and missionary family here. Also, Meghan Baird is doing a wonderful job at the school, learning the Arabic and blending into the community in great ways. The Lord clearly showed that my new ministry and location is the city of Torit. Not the rural, secluded county of Ikotos. That is spiritual clarity!

Finally, I feel confident that the Lord is moving me on. And not only that, but God used the confrontation with the police man, to allow Linda and I to talk, really talk. I was upset, and still unsettled personally from all of the travel and newness and ‘freedom’ everything. That was the greatest blessing of the whole trip. To now be in true fellowship and friendship with the AIM Co-ordinator.

The Bylers and I will be staying together in Torit. Partnering together in Torit. And now, this is finally a home and family to me. God definitely worked ALL these things out for good. It just took patience, praying, roughing up and some small humility pills taking.

Torit, Sudan

"Every tribe Every language"

Torit is a small, very African cosmopolitan city. The main strip of the city is a market version of the Wild West. In Africa at least, the people groups are many and the languages are numerous. Somalia, Eritrea ( Idetitnae?greeting ) Arabic traders, Kenyan, Ugandans, Congolese, Ethiopians, Pakistani and Bangledash soldiers who ride around in huge UN convoys. And of course the many different Sudanese tribes; Lutucko ( Ngai), Dinka, Massai Kenyans, and many other Sudanese peoples. Several of the young men I’ve noticed have very distinctive facial and shoulder arm tattooing across their bodies? Every single young Sudanese man is dressed in brightly colored soldier regalia. The Rastafarian hats with khaki shorts or pants and of course always some sort of camouflage. Many NGO’s also make their home in Torit. Catholic social services, of course the UN, Merlin ( A medical group based from somewhere…)

Since my time here I have seen a city emerging from the end of war. There are military marches, numerous armed police forces, motor bikes everywhere, huge convoys, trucks, lorries, construction projects, Wildlife services, Kenyan laborers, SPLA soldiers, Northern government soldiers. Every head of government branch is located for the district of the Eastern Equitoria region here. So the town itself is painted with the colors of the Southern Sudan new government. Buildings, T-shirts, cars, houses. The people of Torit live in tukuls. These are cone/cylinder shaped homes constructed from mud, or cement, and grass thatched roofs. To fly over the city you would see all the newly constructed offices with shiny metal roofs, and then the thousand of tukul and cone shaped huts.

Meeting with Education Minister & out in Torit

The Schools in Torit

If you had seen me you both would have been impressed. Dressed in the nice khaki pants and my blue dress shirt I walked early from the house of Mathias and Bianca. I stopped by the AIM compound and grabbed my folder with my school and registration photos. Then I made sure I meandered through the Torit city until reaching the Government of the South Sudan Educational Office. Mr James Amoko was late, which is alright, it’s Africa, and with the usual very stern look on his face. When I was called into the office he greeting me briefly and told me he was the third in command (Sudan is ALL military structured, even the schools)and would introduce me to the Torit Headmaster.

So Mr. Francis Amiji and a driver went to the secondary school. How do I describe the school?

I first met with the headmaster and his deputees. His name was Mr. Petriolius.

He apparently is a local Catholic Bishop at the Catholic Church. We talked, he was polite then we went to the staff room. The setting of the school and layout is nothing like Bonjoge. Very flat, very dry and arid. Upon entering the staff room I noticed that the teaching staff was half Arabic and half black Sudanese. Their is a very strong Arabic community and teaching staff. So the students are fluent in Arabic and English then is another separate wing of the school. Overwhelming are my feelings now. The Deputy Education Minister and the Headmaster and I went from classroom to classroom for my introduction. There are many different buildings. So this took awhile. Later, I had some time with the principal himself. I am praying for this relationship. He is not a believer. In fact, it may be that very few, if any, of the Torit Secondary school staff are saved. A young lady Florence is involve with the AIC Church here on occasion. She actually was an interpreter at the pastor’s house a few days ago.

But Muslim staff and beliefs dominate the school.

Torit Secondary is a mixed, day school. So there are female students. Very few girls however, and the schedule is from 7:45 until 2:40 in the afternoon. No boarding school situation. What a deal. I was praying on my return walk, with several Muslim staff teachers, “ Lord. What is going on!” the headmaster wanted me to start immediately. But of course I will not, we’ll ease into the school. More on the situation later. But this may help. Very, very unreached school, administration, and staff for sure. This has NO similarities to Kenya education and Bonjoge.

Home visit and little visitors

November 12th

On Sunday evening, the 12^th of November my heart began praying about a local family in Torit of whom to live with. As AIM requires longer term missionaries to pursue an African home for a short period of time, I knew that I should prepare for room in my own selfish, at least often selfish, heart for a family that wasn’t Kenyan. I loved the time in Kenya and always thought, “well, been there, done that…know everything about African hospitality.” How wrong I was!

Leaving the local AIC Torit church service, which lasted close to three hours, including the traditional handshakes to finish, we headed back to the AIM house.

Along the way I began talking about a local pastor at the AIC Church. The man’s name was Matthew, part Congolese, and part Southern Sudan and no English! He did however speak Swahili so when we saw one another we could talk a bit and communicate. On our way back I began talking to the Bylers about staying with, or seeing this man more often. Phil exclaimed that he was actually the head pastor, but due to his language barrier he could only lead in Swahili. As we drove past his house the Lord may have struck us all with the same idea. Why not invite ourselves into his home. A week, several days and nights. Sure why not!

So we did just that and by the afternoon Pastor Mathias ( Matthew ) and Matthew Lovelace worked together to put up a tent.

I placed my sleeping material in the straw and mud hut for sleep in the evening. We talked as mush as possible in Swahili to build the tent and after finally succeeding settled into the chairs. After a heavy meal of ugali, and a new dish, meat cooked in heavy peanut sauce I began to walk back into the hut. The pastor stopped me and motioned back to his own house. I had a hard time understanding what he was saying to me. Then both he and his wife Bianca picked up their own mattresses from their beds and began carrying them outside into the tent we constructed in their dirt side yard. He then motioned to the bed and gave me his flashlight. “Karibu” (Swahili for welcome). He and his wife had left their own bed and moved into the tent so the guest could sleep on his own in their tiny house. Would I so willingly do this. For a self invited guest from another land that could not speak the same language. I hope so. Christ certainly would.

In one act of grace and selflessness I learned more about the Lord’s nature then my entire trip out to the Southern Sudan. My body yearns for the familiar and comfortable. Yet, the pastor and his wife have emptied themselves, and moved their children, out into discomfort for a stranger. An interesting sidebar to this adventurous tale of…grace was a comment about rats. As we were eating in the evening a local AIC pastor who knew English, Pastor Johnson, stopped by to join us in fellowship and food. As we were closing in on the night’s event he turned to me and asked, “ Matthew, how do you feel about rats!” I was unsure as to the correct reply. “ Heaya, love em!” or “ What?” I reassured him that I was unconcerned about the vermin.

As we said our salama for the night I laid down in the bed. Apparently, Pastor Mathias is right next to the local Torit discotech. So between the hours of all night, and most of the night I listened to the melodious sounds of Swahili and Arabic music blaring through the local loudspeakers. Eventually, the party goers headed off for the night and I was alone in the house. Around midnight I was laying quietly, not sleeping after a kilo of tea in my body, and heard a rusting.

O, make that the loud movement of feet, scurrying and bags being bumped and scrapped. I could only assume these were the uninvited guests I was expecting.

My tired mind and body were just not strong enough to convince myself to pick up the flashlight, which was by my head, and take a peek. Perhaps because I knew through the noise what the answer in the headlights would be. So were these loud scratches really rats? Hmmm….

Phil. 2:5-7
"the attitude you should have is the one that Jesus Christ had."
"He always had the nature of God, but He did not think by force that He should try to become equal with God. Instead of this, of His own free will he gave up ALL He had. And took the nature of a servant."

Saturday Nov. 11/2007 Keyala Village

Military Fatigue - Tanks & a lost child

Saturday, Phil and I traveled to a small, local village that stretched to the mountainous area located several miles from Torit. We packed up from the local AIC Church with three members of the congregation and headed…West, No. East? But the mountains were there so we knew what direction!

The purpose of the trip was to connect with the local tribal leaders of a remote village called Keyala. Keyala has no church. As is commonplace for many African villages alcohol and idleness has infested the local community.
The drive itself was around one and a half hours. It was a great time for Phil Byler and I to talk. He shared about his Mennonite background and strong faith. My appreciation and respect for him as a Godly man grew so much during this trip. He discussed his short time working among the Idinga people of Northern Uganda, before the murder of Warren and Donna Pett. The Bylers were there three and a half weeks before they were forced to relocate and move so abrubtly.

We were engaged in heavy discussion when Sarafino, the AIC Regional Sudanese pastor exclaimed “ Phil, I need to release the Chai and liquid from this morning, they are talking to me!” So we stopped the car and six grown men simultaneously started taking a “ break” alongside the road.

When we reached the Keyala village I noticed a large, green, Soviet styled tank. This was the first symbol of the war I had scene. Second actually. The first were the two de-mining vehicles that we passed on our way into the village. Interestingly, when the war stopped and peace was “established” the Southern Sudanese authorities decided to clear the path for a road to link Northern Kenya with the now free, and traveling people from the Sudan. But what the government didn’t do…was clear all the mines. Intentionally, it is believed so that in case a war were to ever start again the people would not be left totally unprepared. Another example of a war like state and sense of alert.

Keyala was interesting for several reasons. The tank was notable. Dark green and in the center of town. But again I am impressed by the ruggedness of the people, the sharp and distinct village homes and tough people. Phil and I met the local military commander for the Keyala and Torit area. Torit was seiged during the war and the entire area was bombed and destroyed. So meeting the military commander was impressive. He got dressed in his full Sudanese fatigue and we snapped some photos of him. We then got into the m idle of an abducted child case in another local village we drove to. In Africa everything involves meeting with the proper authorities and elders and “paying homage” to those men, always men, who are the tribal chieftains. So we met with many of these men and listened to them speak in Arabic and Lutucko. So my contribution was minimal.

Standing alongside the Sudanese military commander left a distinct impression on me. These people know, and even value, war. Especially, the war leaders.

Apparently with my long hair, shaved face, and God given ( though differently shaped ) body the local drunk man we consoled mistook me for a sister. The deal was, we went to console a local member of the Sudanese Commander’s family. A brother who had lost his daughter. He was intoxicated and very somber when we met him at first. Until he introduced himself to me, then said very sadly, “ How are you my sister!” At first we couldn’t tell if his English was just off or what. But when others noticed what he had said, everyone started laughing. So I was glad I could bring some cheer to his day.

As I write I had to take a break. A large UN plane has just landed on the airstrip that is located directly outside the AIM Compound. The propellers are slowing down. Back to Keyala. For one hour Phil and I listened to reverent praise for the work that George Bush had done in bringing a stop to the war. That was interesting to me, the local Sudanese fighters and commanders loved the American President. Also striking was how war, hatred, and the past sins of the Muslim Arabs dominated the discussion. All among men who confessed to love the Lord.

The men gathered and accounted in glory how they had rebelled against the terrible and stupid Arabs that tried to manipulate, control, and dominate their lives.

Perhaps the best time; spiritually at least, was the discussion that Phil and I had on the return. As men, Phil is definitely old enough to be my father, we are entirely different. Our backgrounds, lives, careers, talents, even spiritual talents. And here we are, living together, working intimately together and be side by side in the Sudan. As we had much time in the car we talked and I shared my testimony. How as a person I have always been inclined to the Holistic vie of life. When I am exercising, being disciplined in food, reading, devotions and getting rest I am much more in order.

African really understand the nature of a holistic life. It centers around their entire frame of life. The spiritual is connected to the physical. The physical is linked to the mental. The mental to the emotions and so on. That is me. Perhaps in a divine revelation ( though mini ) I now understand much more clearly how God fashioned me as a person and set forth his path for me.

Ephesians 1: 4 “ Even before the foundations of the world God had already chosen us to be His through His union with Christ, so that we would be holy and without fault before Him." Before Him. Our lives will give an account before Him. As Christ set the ultimate example.

Asim Bitaki Munu!