The day before yesterday, I got back from a five-day trip to Yiffin. I went in order to attend the annual Women's Institute...which is like a Women's retreat. Each year, the women from the churches of the entire area come together to worship and to attend special services. The woman in the photo started the Women's Institute in 1968 and has attended every year since. She has such a neat spirit and her joy in serving God just shines through her face. She is also a traditional birth attendant for the area and has helped deliver many babies in her lifetime.
Wednesday, I traveled the 6 hour trip in a four-wheel drive with one of the Bible School students who is from the area. God blessed us with a safe journey and a good driver, which is a real blessing since there were 13 adults, two children, an infant and a lamb in our Land Rover. (The apprentice and the two adult sheep rode on the roof rack with the luggage.) I spent Thursday visiting with several friends from last year until about mid-afternoon. Then, Namissa and I, with our luggage, (with the driver, a total of three adults) got on a motorcycle and drove to the village of Komontambaya, where the meeting was to take place. Our driver tried very hard, but it is not easy to balance two women and their baggage while driving off-road conditions. At one point, we did have a mild wipe-out, but God helped us and none of us were injured other than some small scrapes.
I wish you could have been with me. As each group of women walked in to Komontambaya, they would begin to sing and dance to the steady beat of the african drums. All of the women who had already arrived would go out singing and dancing to meet them and welcome them. What an atmosphere of jubilation! Many of these women walked anywhere from 3 to 18 miles, carrying their belongings on their heads and their babies on their backs, just to come attend the meeting. In fact, one of the women shared with me that even while Sierra Leone was in civil war and everyone was in hiding in the forest, the women still continued to meet to study God's Word! WOW! (And to think of all the times I skipped prayer meeting just because I was tired, or too busy!) We had such a good time of testimonies, prayer, and studying God's word. Many of these women deal with some really difficult issues, especially since most of them are in polygamous marriages, have had children die, struggle with untreated health issues, and are first generation Christians in a Islamic/Animist culture. In spite of all this, they sing praise to God with total abandon, and hungrily seek biblical truths to answer their questions. What testimonies they shared of God's hand in their lives and of the answers to their prayers. I was truly inspired.
Sunday morning, when the services were over, we all left for our respective homes. Us "Yiffin women" walked the 9 miles back together, talking and laughing the whole way. However, when I got to Yiffin, we found out that no vehicles had come in all the days that we had been gone. The only way to get a ride from Yiffin to Kabala, is to hitch a ride with a truck that has come the day before...No truck... No ride. It was looking like I could be stuck for a while. But once again, God provided. An area pastor offered to take me to Kabala on his Honda for no other price than just the cost of gas! What a praise. He was such a blessing! I appreciated the ride so much, but I am here to tell you, I discovered that I was lacking muscles in places that I didn't even know muscles were needed! If any of you have ever ridden an off-road bike as a passenger, you will understand what I am talking about. Four hours later, we arrived in Kabala, safe and sound... and very dusty! All of you who are paying good money to get a "Core Workout", should just ride a motorcycle for an hour or so per day on these roads! WOW!
Anyway, here I am...back in my life of ease... indoor toilet...bucket shower...cellphone coverage...bed...
And...most importantly...equipped with a renewed vision for what God has called us here to do. To each of you who pray for us... to each of you who invest what little you have in our ministry... THANK YOU!
These women thank you! They specifically prayed for you and thanked God for you, because you encouraged their hearts by sending me and they asked me to tell you not to forget them. They asked me to tell you to keep on praying for them as they keep trying to walk faithfully with God and to tell other women about God.

Okay, so here is a funny thing. Did you know that here in Sierra Leone, if you want to get a kitten, they will NOT sell it to you. Sierra Leonean cats are NOT for sale. So, how does one go about getting a kitten...you have to MARRY it...yes, it is true. Marriages here are arranged. A young man will see a lady that he likes, then he has to go to her family and arrange to marry her. In order to make these arrangements, he has to "pull kola" or take a gift to the family. This is usually money, chickens, sheep, goats, rice...anything of value. The family will then negotiate for the dowry, which is paid out over time... after the first child is weaned (if he is still pleased with her)... when her father dies... etc. A cat, fortunately, is not spread out over time...perhaps because their lifespan is not that long. However, one has to visit the cat several times, showing how interested you are in caring for the cat...and THEN you negotiate with the family how much of a "kola" you are willing to pay for the cat. Once you pay the agreed price, you go home with the cat and you have formed a relationship now with the cat's first home... or mother and father. Interesting isn't it... how hard it is to catch mice around here. :)

Yesterday I did something that impacted me very deeply. I had the honor of accompanying Uncle Garreth Wiederkher to the grave of his oldest son, who died in Sierra Leone in 1975, the same year, incidentally, that my family and I came to Sierra Leone. "Uncle" Garreth is not really my uncle, but as missionary kids (MKs) we called all adults either Uncle or Aunt. This was for two reasons. One, it was more respectful than calling an adult by his or her first name, and is less formal than Mr. or Mrs. Secondly, when you have left all of your family half way around the world in an age in which there are no phones or internet and letters take months to arrive...if they come at all...well, the other missionaries become your family.
Uncle Garreth and Aunt Treeva were dorm parents at the MK school that I later attended. In fact, Uncle Garreth was the one who came up with the famous "Persuader". The "Persuader" was a wooden paddle with holes in it that was used for punishing those who truly deserved it. Now, please don't worry...I am NOT talking about child abuse here. However, when you are parenting 30 + children... especially MKs... well, let's just say that being able to "Persuade" is absolutely essential. The "Persuader" was rarely used...but OFTEN talked of in hushed and reverent tones...so reverent in fact, that the dorm parents, whomever they may be at the time, had to do very little. See, the big kids would tell all the new, incoming, first graders that the holes were to let the blood out...and well, we were all scared enough at the sight of it that it was almost never needed.
BUT, I digress...what I witnessed first-hand today was sacrifice. This precious man of God...and I do NOT use that term for very many people...has been talking to me about the power of prayer, and the fact that very few people understand the burden, the vision, and the sacrifice required of an intercessor. Uncle Gareth has not been in Sierra Leone for more than 30 years, and yet he has never forgotten the people of Sierra Leone and their need to hear of the gospel. He carries that burden as an intercessor to the throne of God... and even more than that...he has a vision to reignite the American church with a passion for prayer and an understanding of the cost of being an intercessor. I wish that you could talk to him and hear story after story of his upbringing with praying parents, of the way that God protected him in WWII, and of the power of God in his life as he served as a missionary and an intercessor.
I cannot express to you in words...they fail me...the humble awe that I felt...standing in the African sun...surrounded by 15 foot high elephant grass...and watching as this man... this intercessor who understands the incredible cost...knelt at his own sons grave. A grave with no name...as the rebels took off the engraved plate during the war...a grave lost in the bush and surrounded by overgrowth...a grave that he had not been able to visit in over 30 years...the grave of his son who died while he served God wholeheartedly...half a world away from family and friends. And yet...no word of complaint or regret ever came from his lips. WOW! Could you do that?
God did... His only Son died...
for YOU!
And THAT folks, is why we are here.