The Eve of Good Friday

The surgery to skin graft the man with the burned hands was not done today as I wrote earlier. It will likely be Saturday. Please keep him in your prayers.

This afternoon, we have the pleasure of the arrival of a new volunteer 4th year med student named Rachel from Michigan. She will actually be starting her pediatric residency in Houston this year, so it's more than a coincidence that Jodi and I are here with her for a while. Her time will overlap with ours for the rest of our trip. Please lift her experience up in your prayers.

This evening we had a wonderful time gathering together with all of the missionaries who are serving full-time here with their families--the Failes, the Hewitts, and the Dickens, as well as Tommy Harrison. The family from Belgium and serving in medical missions in Burkina Faso was also here for their last night. This family is so musically talented. Their daughter played the violin for us, while Dr. Peter led worship using a keyboard. It was so wonderful singing about what we observe as the reason for our faith and what we respectfully observe tomorrow on Good Friday with Jesus' death and then proclaiming the victory that we know happens 3 days later when He is risen. It was such an instrumental time of fellowship, devotion, and reflection with Him. I'm so thankful that everyone here does not forsake gathering like this. If this was not enough, the evening began in such a spectacular way, too.

Before our time of worship and as the sun was setting upon the sea of red dirt with silhouettes of mud huts in the distance, I noticed several large fires were burning brightly against the setting sun and approaching darkness. I heard tribal songs and Mampruli being spoken from these far away mud huts. It was truly a spectacular moment when you realize you are in Africa. Seeing the fires set for either cooking or tribal purposes inspired me to think about gaining a zeal or fire for God while here and to bring it home. After all, this is a spiritual journey. Then, I was so impacted by the fact that tomorrow is Good Friday and the realization of what I am doing the night before, just gazing into the beauty He has created here. I am so thankful to be here, blessed with an eternal security, while praying for those living in the mud huts with the glowing fires that they may have an igniting passion for our same Savior.

Moments before the sight of such a scene, I was out on the porch again talking with the local children who seem to gather nightly outside our house. They always have telling faces, if something pressing is on their minds that they need to talk about. Cheney came as well and had great conversation before he was off raking more leaves. He is the man I wrote about two years ago who is full of the Holy Spirit almost as if intoxicated but not on alcohol. He was healed from tuberculosis after living in the TB colony and has been working on property for years. I still wonder if he's an angel. Hmmmm. It is truly unbelievable what a Christ-like example he is at any given moment. As we walk the red dirt path toward the hospital, out from somewhere behind a bush or a tree in the far distance is a voice calling out to us, "Hallelujah, Amen!" or "God is good all the time!" Whatever thought you might have as you are walking, it is instantly boosted multi-fold as you head to serve God here. The Lord has mysterious ways of encouraging His workers through His workers.

I'm so thankful for this day and for the reflections on what Christ offered us and His victory in our lives so many years ago as well as how to be more like Him.