Africa by Starlight

 

[1]

John 1:5

Good News Translation

⁵ The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never put it out.

 In 1967 in the heart of Africa, my bus pulled into the tiny hamlet of Nyamuswa. I grabbed my weighty suitcase and a heavy box of books and stepped off onto the dirt road. It was two o’clock a.m. The bus roared off into the night

I stood there. No one was awake at night, and no electricity existed within 25 miles at that hour. No vehicles of any kind were on the road. Nyamuswa was pitch black. There were no phones, not even at home. Cell phones had not been invented. No one knew when I was coming. There was no way I could lug my heavy luggage the three miles to my home at Ikizu on foot. I knew no one in the hamlet. There was no gas station, no café.

Puzzled, I stood there in the night. I hadn’t planned what I would do at this point. Stars were bright in the moonless sky. They made the white-washed walls of the buildings visible, ghostly visible. About four or five low thatched roof buildings down on the right was the maternity clinic that always had several women with complications awaiting their babies. There would be a caretaker there in case an emergency happened at night.

My mind clutched at a faint hope. Maybe I could awaken her and leave my bags there. Of course, men were not welcome there, day or night. Every idiot knew that! I was a foreigner, mzungu. Maybe, just maybe, I could persuade her to let me store my bags there.

I trudged up to the dark, heavy wooden door. “Hodi!” I called loudly. I knocked on the door—no one knocks on a door; they always call “Hodi!”

After repeated calling, a highly suspicious voice replied “Ni nani?” (“Who’s there?”)

“Ni Wilton Clarke kutoka Ikizu!” (“I’m Wilton Clarke from Ikizu.”) With that I had practically exhausted my Swahili. Fortunately, she spoke more English than I did Swahili. After some protracted talking, she understood that I just wanted to leave my bags in her clinic until the next morning. She showed me where to put them, and I left her with a heartfelt “Asante sana!” I would be lying if I said there was not a hint of a worry as to whether I would see them the next morning.

Elsewhere I tell about how the military had been called to Nyamuswa, and they had shot 9 elephants in the Nyamuswa gardens, so wild animals did come into this area every so often. I hadn’t heard any actual reports about animals recently, but I did know that leopards would roam where ever they pleased and that they often killed just for the thrill of killing. Of course, you’ve heard about poisonous snakes and other undesirables. All of these things were in my mind as I started to walk, by starlight, the three miles home.

It was bright enough so I could see where the road surface was. The stars were brilliant. Orion was high in the sky along with its accompanying constellations. The Milky Way was spectacular. So, I really did enjoy the walk. I let myself into the house shortly after three o’clock. Sylvia expressed surprise and joy at seeing me. Later that morning I went back and picked up my bags. They had been moved but were totally unmolested.

Thank You, Lord, for the beauty of a still, dark night with a bit of tension yet filled with Your care.

 

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[1] https://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/light-pollution-star-night-sky-england-rural-census-orion-campaign-a8873096.html

Give Without Compulsion

[i]

2 Corinthians 9:7 

New International Version (NIV)

⁷ Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.

  Ever since I was a young child, I was trained to return a tenth of everything I received to the Lord as tithe. It became part of what I had to do to be a Christian. God would not bless me if I didn’t do it. Then in my twenty-first year, I began to see God and His service in a new way. As salvation strictly by Grace began its gentle but persistent work in all parts of my life, I re-evaluated this aspect of my life, too.

 Pastors have told me that when a church moves from a religion of works to a religion of grace, its offerings go way down. Those who discover that “Nothing we do can cause God to love us more, and nothing we do can cause God to love us less,” means we don’t have to give offerings any more. Since I was in the habit of giving tithes and offerings, I didn’t stop. I continued that habit. Apparently, many don’t—many didn’t have that habit in the first place.

During the years we were “missionaries” in Africa, the mission board removed the tithe from our pay check before they sent me my check. It came out of my pay as a tax. I was “under compulsion.” I didn’t give a tithe during those years, and I personally experienced the loss in my very psyche. It’s difficult to explain, but it made me feel less involved in God’s great mission on earth—to give every soul a chance to be saved—even though I was a missionary and sacrificing in many other ways.

Why give then? After all, God has more than enough? When He set up the Hebrew nation, He designed that 11/12^ths of the nation supported the 1/12^th that were set aside to do the Lord’s work directly. Thus 1/10^th tithe would generously support the 1/12^th workers with extra left over. It is a real privilege to fit into a plan God chose to use. Furthermore, He has promised to bless those who do so far better than they would have been otherwise. Indeed, He has kept that promise in my life.

 I rejoice, Lord, for providing me a chance to participate in Your kingdom in a very real way.

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[i] https://changingwinds.wordpress.com/2016/10/09/to-tithe-or-not-to-tithe-the-moral-question/

 

Saved in Childbearing

 

1 Timothy 2:14-15

King James Version

¹⁴ And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression. ¹⁵ Notwithstanding she shall be saved in childbearing. . .

 

It was in November of 1968 when Sylvia suggested that she was getting old—26 years old—and it was time to have a child. The thought had never entered my head. After all my parents had been married for 10 years before I came along. At that point we had been missionaries at Ikizu in Tanzania, Africa for two years. I was teaching more than a full load and was responsible for maintaining all the machinery on campus: the tractor, a vintage lawnmower, the electricity generator, flour mill, and water pump. It was also my duty to provide the kitchen with wood to fire their stoves. When anything went wrong anywhere on campus, I was the first person they called. I was too busy to think about raising a family.

Sylvia was warming to her subject: “Even the Bible says a woman would be saved by having children.”

I laughed: “Oh?”

Then she read from first Timothy, “Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression. ¹⁵ Notwithstanding she shall be saved in childbearing” . . .

She stopped, and let the words sink in. Then she added, “You don’t want me to be lost, do you?” All the other missionaries, the Dunder, Martinsen, Johnson, and Dobias families had children. Only the Kings (who probably couldn’t have children) had none.

The discussion went on. I did want children, of course. Then why not start now? Two or three weeks later I left to go a three week long mathematics teachers’ conference at the University of Dar es Salaam. When I returned from the conference, Sylvia was glowing. I thought she was happy to see me home. “I’m pregnant!” she beamed.

“Well, whom do you want to tell?”

“Oh, let’s keep it secret until I really start to show.” Which we did.

 

What a joy it is to participate in Your creating, Lord! Thank You!

 

Love the Transgressor

 

[1]

Romans 5:8
Good News Translation
⁸ But God has shown us how much he loves us—it was while we were still sinners that Christ died for us!

It was my second year in college. The college bulletin listed 10 actions that were grounds for expulsion. I had offended in 9 of them. I wished I could have claimed all 10. I had a rebellious attitude, and the disciplinary committee met and suspended me for 6 weeks. They were kind to me. I deserved outright expulsion.

When I got home my parents labored with me. They were very persuasive about how my actions would affect my life in the long run. They also emphasized how my current course of action was threatening my eternal salvation. They encouraged me to go back to the college town and see how much I could do to clear up my record. Their logic and reasoning made sense to me. First, I shelved the rebellious attitude; then I went back the 1,500 miles and cleared up as much as I could.

The president of the college found out that I was back in town and what I was doing. I told him I had had a change of attitude and what I was doing to try and rectify things. He complimented me. He then told me that I was not speak to any of the students. Furthermore, he was not willing to ask the faculty to reinstate me into the college He didn’t mention the six-week suspension: he regarded me as having been expelled. He knew he couldn’t stop me from speaking to the students because my brother was at the school. I had not mentioned the six-week limit, but he was letting me know I wasn’t welcome there.

God, on the other hand, bore all my punishments before I committed the sins that demanded punishment. He welcomed me into his kingdom before I was born.

That president may have been frustrated some years later when I returned to the college as a professor. By that time, he was no longer the president, and they had eagerly sought my services. When I was introduced to the students at a college assembly, I mentioned to the whole group that the last time I had been formally connected with the college I had been expelled from there. As far as I could tell, it only improved the way the students accepted me.

 Thank You, Lord, for loving me—and my readers while we were still sinners.

 

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[1] https://www.linkedin.com/company/helderberg-college/?originalSubdomain=zaa

Sing & Praise with Kids

 

[1]

Psalm 101:1

Common English Bible

 Oh, let me sing about faithful love and justice!
    I want to sing my praises to you, Lord!

 

As a family we often went on short trips like up onto Mt. Wachusett, and every once in a while, we would drive for hours to Grandma and Grampa’s home. We had our share of “Are we there yet?” or “When are we going to get there?” whines. Sometimes it was a scream or shout, “Mommy, Esther’s got my crayon!” or “Daddy, Ricky’s leaning on me!” or even worse, “Stop it! Mommy, Julia pinched me!”

Often someone would start singing, “This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine…” Then it progressed through “Won’t let Satan (whew) it out.” For twenty minutes or more we would sing all the songs we could remember. Many of these songs were ones of praise and love. Of course, we sang some foolish ones too like “I know an old woman who swallowed a fly”.

Peace would reign in the car. The miles seemed shortened, and we would arrive at our destination rested and full of life and vigor.

On longer trips Mom or I would read a book. As Esther got older, she introduced us to books like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, by C. S. Lewis. This led to discussions on the sacrifice of Christ on the cross for our sins and many other vital Christian topics.

We had no mechanical dishwasher in the house, so we organized the family into doing the dishes. Daddy was asked to read as we did them. Preschool Ricky insisted that we read the whole King James Bible, including all the “begats” and “the Lord spake unto Moses saying, ‘speak unto the children of Israel saying …’” Because we explained the old phrases and words, Shakespeare was no mystery to the kids later on. The kids attended parochial schools and often found they knew more about the Bible than their teachers! That legacy was important to their lives, and they are still influenced by it.

 

We praise You, Lord, for making home life just a little bit better!

 

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[1] https://www.freepik.com/premium-photo/parents-read-book-children-sisters-listen-as-daddy-reads-fairy-tale_8282694.htm

Keep Still and Let God Handle It

 

[i]

Exodus 14:14 

Good News Translation (GNT)

¹⁴ The Lord will fight for you, and all you have to do is keep still.”

 By May 1967 we had been staying with my parents near Monze, Zambia, for 9 weeks awaiting our visas to get into Tanzania. Finally, they had arrived—in Livingston, 180 miles away. I took the train down there from Rusangu, and first thing in the morning I stepped into the immigration office. The office was huge with one small tidy desk. The officer behind it was brisk. He took my passports and said, “Come back at 4:00, and I’ll have them for you.” Four o’clock was closing time.

 At 3:30 I returned. The officer was still brisk. “Sorry, I couldn’t get your numbers today. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.” I told him I didn’t have any more money to stay there and still catch the train back to Rusangu. He understood, but I’d have to come back tomorrow. Looking around, I saw one straight-backed chair over against the wall on one side of the office. I quietly went to it, sat down, and prayed—silently.

About five minutes before closing, a man walked in and asked for clearance for his truck load of building materials. The officer was brisk. He leafed through a neat pile of papers on one side of his desk, pulled one out, and looked at it briefly. “Sorry, it’s not ready. Come back tomorrow.”

 “But sir, I’ve been coming back for 13 days now.” The driver tried to explain.

 The officer was abrupt: “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.” He looked away; the interview was over. 

 I sat there quietly. It was obvious that the officer was awaiting a bribe. Even if I wanted to give him one, I certainly didn’t have the money to do so. For another 45 minutes I sat—and prayed. I had no idea what else I could do. Even though the office was closed, the officer sat there equally quiet, ignoring me. Finally, he picked up the phone and dialed a number. “What’s the number on Clarke?” he asked. “Thank you!” He picked up my passports, opened and stamped them, writing in a number. Then he looked at me. “They are finished now! You can take them.” He held them out to me.

“Thank you very much!” I stood up briskly, took them, and walked out the door.

Thank You, Lord, for fulfilling Your promise to fight for me while I am forced to be still.

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[i] https://cpl.org/services/travel/passports/

Start at 85

 

[i]

Joshua 14:10-11 

Good News Translation (GNT)

Look at me! I am eighty-five years old and am just as strong today as I was when Moses sent me out. I am still strong enough for war or for anything else.

 Caleb came to Joshua and asked for the city of Hebron as a heritage. The Anakim lived in the city. Joshua asked for the city with full knowledge that he would have to drive out these giants in order to take possession. He was eager to get on with his task, wielding a mighty faith that God would do the dirty work for him.

 This text hit home when I read it. Here I am not yet 85. God has saved me from a killer disease and given me strength to keep the cancer at bay. He must have some Anakim for me to drive out.

 I thought of my blog site, Experiencing a Bible Verse, and realized that I have let it languish this year. I have only posted one item each in April, May, and June—and none in July, August, or September. Was it the Covid pandemic that depressed me? Has my faith languished, too? Has God deserted me? Is this one of the Anakim? Probably it is none of the above; I have simply allowed everyday things, even serious things, to dominate my time. My thoughts and energies have been captured by these simplistic things.

 Now doctor visits, Zoom meetings, swimming pool repainting, laundry, and cooking, rattlesnakes, memoir writing, and plumbing problems will all have to crowd together and make more room for meditating.

 Lord, help me prioritize what I do in my life.

 

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[i] https://claudetee.com/tee/85th-birthday-idea-for-vintage-85-years-old-dude-bday-shirt/