Sunday, February 12, 2017

The Happiest Pastor Around!




February 11, 2017, Saturday
The work begins!  After meeting with the head carpenter and coming to an agreement, we headed to the warehouse outside of town. We hired a big lorry truck and filled it with as many supplies as possible; timber, posts, iron sheets, nails and cement, and then sent it up the mountain to the site of the new church.


I had met several good and faithful pastors in Mt Elgon last year, but there was one although small in frame he stood tall in the Lord.  He is 75 years old, and because of an injury he walks with a limp, but that doesn’t slow him down. He continues to work for the Lord tirelessly, and his eyes light up like fire when he talks about Jesus.

He was not aware that a decision had been made to build him a new church and the supplies were in route to the mountain. We had tried several times to contact him, but the phone service was down in the mountain so he could not be reached.  Joy bubbled out of our hearts, and we laughed with delight as we thought about the surprise that awaited him.   

We decided it best to send someone to find him and tell him to find a place with phone service and call us.  The call finally came through, and the bishop or pastor over him began to speak to him in Swahili. There was an element of excitement in the head pastor's voice as he informed him that Linda was here, and soon he was to receive a truckload of supplies for a new church.  There was silence on the other end of the phone.  It had been about a year since he had heard from me and he hadn’t been promised anything while I was there.  I hadn’t even brought up the idea of possibly building him a church.  For me, it was a trip to search out the land, but he was unaware of that. 

Then he spoke “Wait– let me call you again, I'm not hearing you” was the response from the other end of the phone.  The pastor was in disbelief and thought the words he was hearing couldn't be right.  But he did hear correctly and very soon his eyes would see piles of lumber on the small piece of vacant land that he had prayed over for years.

February 12, 2017, Sunday
After meeting under the tent for the morning service, we traveled out of town to the project site.  The paved road was straight, and the mountain stood before us.  Then things suddenly changed when the tarmac ended.  It was dusty roads and potholes the rest of the way. Mountain life filled our view, and animals roamed free.  A couple of motorbikes sat in the middle of the small stream we crossed as the boys worked hard to clean it.  Cows waded in the same water and didn’t hesitate to relieve themselves while mamas gathered water to take home to their families.


Farm land surrounds us, and it sits barren as it waits for seed.  A single Acacia tree stands in the midst of an open field and children stunned to see a white woman jump with excitement as they wait for my response.


As we walk down the hill to a kitchen made of the mud of the earth the pastor is already on his feet and coming to meet us. He grabs my hand and shakes it ever so tightly, and in English, I hear the words “thank you, thank you, thank you” over and over again.  Mama Julia, a Pokot woman, doesn’t speak a word of English but she wraps her arms around me and gives me a long lasting hug. Her actions are universally understood.  Her face was full of gratitude and appreciation for good things that were about to take place within the village. 

Last night a heart full of happiness chased any thought of sleep from the pastor’s mind, and after counting the supplies two or three times, he decided to keep the night guards company.  With the stars above him and lumber piles around him, this man rejoiced openly and thanked God all night long.


My heart was full, and overflowing that the Lord was using us to answer this pastor’s prayers. Excitement could be felt in the air as we gathered on the land soon to be the home of a 25 x 40 church. The men measured and marked out the placement of the church on the dry earth beneath our feet where a small field of maize once grew.


People from their thatched roof homes around us stood on the sidelines to watch along with forty or more children. The peaceful valley below us was in plain view, and the wind broke through the rays of the sun bringing us some relief from the mid-day heat.


With very grateful hearts we bowed our heads and thanked God for all that he was doing for the people here in the mountain. The pastor was about to burst with joy as we broke ground for the first corner post
Psalm 126:3 The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.

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