Camping at the Nawi

Camping at the Nawi. 

The Nawi, when translated, simply means cattle camp or corral.  I had heard that a few men from a recent volunteer team were going to go share stories and “camp” at the cattle camp.  I had visited these camps several times, but I have never had the opportunity to stay the night.  I was thrilled when they asked me to come with them, but as soon as I accepted the invitation I began thinking to myself “what have I done?” 

The cattle camp is where all the “warrior” age men take the cows during dry season to find grass.  Sometimes it is days away, while other times it may simply be over a mountain range or somewhere a little closer.  Thankfully this time it wasn’t too far away, but it was far enough away that we knew we were nowhere near the comforts of home.  Each person brought with them a bottle of water, a cloth wrap to use as a blanket, and a small stool, called an ekicholong.  There were no tents, there was no food, we wanted to be as close to the Karamjong men who were staying there as possible. 

We actually had a four-course meal.  The next paragraph is not for the faint of heart, nor for my mother who will kill me when she finds out what we ingested.  Anyway, The first coarse was a very large, hollow gourd full of fresh cows milk passed around until we finished it.  The second course was a different, bigger gourd of homemade “yogurt” at least that is what we told ourselves mentally, It was quite chunky and it was about as horrible as it sounds. It took a lot to get it down, but we each did our part as the gourd was passed around.  We took as much as we could and smiled as a group of nationals watched in anticipation for us to try this delicacy. The third course was cow’s blood cooked over a fire. It had the consistency and taste of liver and was actually my favorite of the four.  A little salt however, would have gone a long way. The last course was all three courses mixed together in a container and passed around.  I then chewed about 4 pieces of gum and passed the rest around for everyone to try.  My American friends greatly appreciated the fresh taste of mint.

The moon was full, the night was cold, the fire was warm, and our bellies had about a ½ gallon of warm milk inside them.  If I weren’t laying on a rock and a root I would have fallen asleep by 9:00.  However we stayed up another hour or so listening to the team tell 4 different Bible stories. They did a great job and presented a very clear Gospel.  I feel like after all we had to eat and drink a church should have sprung up right then and there, however contact has been made and Christ has been preached and shown.  We slept about fifty feet away from a few hundred cows.  I kept thinking I hope my friends, the Turkana people, don’t decide to go cattle raiding tonight as they often do.  In the back of my mind I knew where several nearby rocks were in case I needed to find cover in the middle of a gun battle. That was the last thought I remember before the cowswoke me up about 4 hours later.  The men had a very long journey the next day to find enough pasture to feed their cows.  As they left at 4 am so did we.  It was a great cultural experience and helped to show a glimpse of what this ministry may look like in the future.


* Please check back in one week to hear an update on this story.  Also, continue to check back as we have several stories scheduled to be released over the next few months.

We are back!!! At least for now

Well, it has been awhile since we updated you all on our blog and for that I apologize.  Our blog is a place to share everyday stories to give you a glimpse into our everyday life. Here you will see more adventure and the liter side of life in the bush as we tell some of the stories that don’t make it into our newsletter.  It has been a long and difficult road these past few years as we hurried up to wait.  One day we would be thrilled with excitement thinking our departure would be within weeks or months, other times we would be depressed, thinking "there is no way, ever, we are going to be able to go back. Then all of a sudden as our story has so often unfolded God opened a door and swung it wide open. We were given clearance, sold our house, quit our jobs and boarded a plan in a matter of a month.  God is so good and his timing is everything.  Thank you all for your faithfulness to encourage us both in the States and as we have returned to Africa.

Our Journey Part I

I would love to be able to eloquently describe in vivid details the emotions we have experienced the last two years. I would love to articulate the problems we faced but I cant. Not because I don’t want to disclose that information, but because it is so unexplained, that we just cant find a way to express it to you. However, we want you to know, so here is our best attempt to catch you up to date.

I had gone on the field knowing that Spiritual Warfare was inevitable. We were marching into an area held in bondage by witchcraft and spiritual worship. However, I had no idea what it would look like, and it came in a way that held me captive by confusion. It did not come in the form of temptation like I had imagined it would. It didn’t come as a blazing fire labeled ‘warfare’. It came subtly and left me so confused that I thought I was crazy. I was beat down and didn’t even know why or how to even begin to pinpoint the cause. I decided to bury these fears deep and to ignore them. Little did I know they would all come flowing out in the fall of 2013.

That November, we had a team meeting in Lokichoggio, Kenya (where we lived). This meant that all our friends and co workers in S.Sudan and surrounding countries would gather together for a time of prayer, fellowship and updates. We had been looking forward to it. During this meeting, we realized that each one of us was tired and worn. It was during this meeting that I felt the need to verbalize for the first time things that had been holding me in confusion and fear. Our member care was there, so we sat down on the last evening and out poured all these mysterious issues I had been dealing with. Jonathan was hearing many of them for the first time. Our sweet member care, who are our dear friends, decided it would be best to remove us from the area for a short time and dig deeper into the issue. They did not have answers and were too confused themselves at what was taking place. They suggested we just take a month in Nairobi to try and figure out what was going on. The meeting ended and everyone returned to their homes.  We waited in

Lokichogio for further instructions. On top of everything, we were both in deep depression, that neither one of us could lift the other up. The only way we got any relief from this heavy weight was to go into the villages and do ministry, so we did.

A few days later, on my birthday, we got a call. It had been a really tough day and Jonathan had heated up kettles of water and filled the bath for me to have a hot bath on my birthday. I was trying to relax, but then I heard Jonathan on the phone and his voice sounded bothered. He had just received a phone call and we were being sent to the States for a month. You would think joy would overcome us, but we had been looking forward to Christmas with our Turkana friends for months. We had so many wonderful plans. We could not leave, not now. We tried to make our case that we would be fine, just let us get through Christmas and then we would take care of ourselves.  But, thank the Lord that those making the decision were not us, rookies, but Godly men who had years of experience and knew red flags when they saw them.

Before we knew it, we were landing in Charlotte, NC. We told no one of our homecoming and stayed our first night in the states in a hotel near our families. The next day would bring tears of joy as we surprised our family and received overdue hugs. However, little did we know the following year would bring heartache we could never imagine as we journeyed on the road for answers.

Our Journey Part II

All of us assumed we would go talk to a counselor, get an answer, and be on our way back to Lokichoggio before long.  However, appointment after appointment led us down a deep dark road of disappointment, frustration, and more questions. We talked to psychiatrists, psychologists, neurologists, pastors, counselors and more doctors. No one had an answer. Test after test came back negative. Each result would bring a doctor out scratching his head. We were healthy and one could find anything wrong, so they gave their best guess. Some said we were crazy and needed medication, others said we were experiencing side effects from a strong malaria prevention we had taken for a year. But nothing was definite, no guess from the professionals led us any closer to going back, in fact they all lead us further away. Month after month passed, and we were worse off then when we left. Deep into depression we spiraled. We were so deeply broken and without the joys that our Turkana brought, we were faced to look straight into the dark ugly face of this mystery. We spent the first six months in the darkest place emotionally and spiritually that either one of us had ever ventured. Our families were caught in the middle as we lived in their homes. They hurt with us and were crushed to see their children in so much emotional pain, but unable to do anything about it. They lost sleep, and saw our ugly brokenness. There we lay before them, crushed, with no answers, no motivation, and no hope of going back on the field.

 I know by now your mind is rushing to try and figure out what happened to us. Well, let me give your mind some rest and let you know that is isn’t a deep dark sin, or a medical issue. It is something still unexplained to us, but we have stopped trying to throw a label on the problem. Please understand that it isn’t we don’t want to reveal it, but we cant.  Just know that we went into a place held in bondage by Spiritual darkness thinking we were untouchable. We did not understand the tactics of the enemy and we were unprepared for the battle. We did not understand the full power and need for prayer. We tried to handle the attacks through our own strength. So, I guess this is the whole point of us putting all this out there is, The war is bigger than us, and the enemy is smart. However, he is also defeated and our God is bigger. Period. We NEED to be DAILY praying for each other!!!! We NEED prayer and lots of it. Pray for us, and other missionaries!!! The enemy wants to cause disunity, confusion, and fear. Pray that we would see where there is not unity and strive to stand strong where relationships are crumbling (Pray Eph. 4:1-3). Pray that we would be in tune to God’s leading and that we would not be blinded by confusion  (Pray 1 Peter 5:8-11). Pray that when fear comes on us so thick, that we would be able to rest in Christ and His Word (1 Peter 3:13-17).

Slowly, we have been pieced back together. We did not get this way through doctors or counselors, but through the fellowship of the church and through the encouragement of our families. Each person praying for us, the Sunday School class in Asheville praying over us, individuals letting us rest in their homes and showering us in encouragement, realizing the importance of immersion in God’s Word, and appreciating the beauty of marriage and it’s purpose. Even though no one knew our situation and heartbreak, it didn’t matter. So many just poured their love over us even in our brokenness, even in our inability to thank them. We were too weak to move and encourage them back, and yet they still gave. Out of the selflessness, they mentored us, had us over for dinners, and met us for coffee. Little by little we gained strength to sit up. We then were able to brush ourselves off and actually stand, but still weak and feeble, we needed the support of those around us. Through perseverance of others reaching out to us and praying for us and through His leading and His Word, we are stronger then we have ever been. As I open my Bible, the tear stained pages and notes jotted down in the margin, remind me at how far God has brought us. A man who faced far more then I could ever imagine, once said “Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generation, for ever and ever! Amen.” Eph. 3:20 & 21

The Death of a Man

 It was a normal morning, as I sat down to read my Bible. This particular morning, I began reading 1 Peter. I could not move past it, and kept reading it over and over.  Our hope is based on Christ’ resurrection! What a wonderful reminder!  Little did I know what God had planned for us that day. 

It was a Tuesday just like any other. We had finished language class & headed over to the village for the weekly Bible study. We maneuvered between the huts making our way to Anna’s house.  There was a solem mood throughout the village. They were telling us something, but we were only picking up a little of what they were saying. They wanted to do something before the sun went down, and it sounded urgent. Finally, a lady came that spoke some English and filled in the blanks for us. A man had died that afternoon from malaria, and they needed to bury him before the sun went down.  Emotions of sadness, confusion and nervousness all collided together. We have never been to a funeral. We did not know how to act culturally, what to do, we had not learned the vocabulary needed for a funeral. Sure we could fumble through some words, but the depth of comfort we needed to communicate we were lacking. 

While walking over there, Jonathan was informed that he would be expected to preform the funeral. Unprepared, unequipped, out of our comfort zone and without a translator, we did not know what to do. But, as God has taught us time and time again, it is in these moments, when we have to depend completely on Him and not ourselves, that He shows us His amazing power and strength. We followed the women through the village to the house of the man who had just died. It was very quiet. There was a grave dug out right beside the mans house.

An older man, who was grieving, sat under a nearby tree. We mimicked what the other Turkana were doing, where they were sitting and how they were acting. I was lead to the freshly dug and empty grave. We had a Turkana Bible, so I flipped to 1 Peter. My thoughts were interrupted by the screams of a young girl who could not have been more then 15 years old. She was either a sister or a daughter of the man, it is hard to tell in this culture. The women gathered around her, holding her up comforting her.

Three men went into the hut and came out carrying the man wrapped in a blanket. They laid him next to the grave and motioned for me to begin. I cannot explain what happened next, just that God was teaching through me. I was able to teach, very basically from that passage and pray with the family. The old man was called to throw the first dirt into the grave. The weight of his grief and brokenness were apparent. Once he was finished, another family member came and threw in some dirt. the community grieved and buried that young man together. When they finished burying him, the women told me to grab a stone from the pile that was near the grave and place it on top. I followed them and everyone helped cover the grave with stones as a sign that we are together in this and that the family is not alone. The way everyone was truly grieving together and in it together was  very moving. It was sad to see how the children  in the village were not phased by the death, and how it was just a part of life here. They see a lot of death, so this was just another day and another funeral. They all helped carry stones, even the little ones and place it on the grave then skipped off to play. We learned that when a child dies, only the parents cry and it is not as sad for the community as when an old person dies. This is because so many babies and children die. I mean, this man died from a mosquito bite! The death, and struggle of life is so overwhelming here that there are no words I can say. All I can say it that is has changed my life  and mindset forever.