The Murders of Mwera

Emma and Stephen wanted to go to Mwera to get a haircut, and I wanted to adjust my diet a little, so I asked to venture along. They said ‘yes’ and we started up the long dirt road to the village of Mwera next to the paved road leading to Nansana. We joked and became great friends. When we entered the town we noticed all of the shops were closed - every door, every hut, except one. We stopped there. Emma bought some airtime and learned that there had been a murder the night before. We ventured on and came to the Nansana road. Across the road from us were all the towns’ people gathered together. I saw there were police present and not wanting to be arrested for a bribe that I would not pay, I avoided the scene all together.  Emma went on ahead to listen to the meeting.

I was surprised at how many people lived in this one little town. Once the meeting ended Emma came back with the news. A girl had been killed in her sleep the previous night. She was a shopkeeper of the market and lived in the back of the shop. The shops are heavily guarded with bars between the customers and the merchandise and have the ability to close the shop with a metal door. There are no windows, and I do not know if a back door is present. In fact, now that I think on it there are some I do not remember ever seeing a door on at all, but I never ventured around to the back of the shops. The murderer had chloroformed the room, and had dug out the side of the house, removing bricks to enter, and then he slit the girl’s throat raising her head in such a way as to collect the blood running down her natural body cavities into a jerry can. The murderer then left a stick of sugar cane on the dead girl’s bed and exited.

 I bought the men a chapatti each and a soda, and Emma and I played pool at a bar while Stephen got a haircut. Then I waited outside the shop while Emma got his hair cut. As it was getting dark we could not play another round of pool. I talked with a Muslim man for a bit, when he asked me “Do you hate us?” referring to the fact that I am a Christian and he is a Muslim. “No, no that would be ridiculous.” I replied, we are not encouraged to hate, but to love. The verse of Christ saying” love your enemies” was on its way out when I realized that implied we were enemies. I was in a tender situation, but my answer had brought a smile to the man’s face and he jumped up to attend to the next customer now entering the barber shop. I waited there, then Emma was finished and I waved goodbye to the man and we headed off, racing the last rays of the sun.

The next night at devotional after much singing and praising of Jesus’ name, Josh, the manager, took charge of the devotional. He told of how he saw the young girl’s face. He had carried her out of her house himself. He ended with a warning against fear, and he prayed against the dark forces and for the capture of the murderer.

The next time I went to Mwera a few days later we, Emma, Stephen and I, passed a house with a large crowd around the open door. Men were working on the house. I assumed it was a construction project and I paid it no mind, but my companions lingered to hear the news - a second girl murdered in the exact same way, her blood stolen from her corpse, the sugar cane on the bed and the removed bricks.  (I would have you note this is the last concrete evidence I have to tell you, the rest of the information has come through from the manager, the town’s people and Chris.) Church that Sunday addressed the fear issue among the citizens of the town. An excitable man in a mustard-colored Dwight Shrute shirt stood up and spoke in Luganda, his head charging forward dragging his torso and with tugging on his thighs at the end of every shouted sentence, with wild hand gestures above his head. He, as it was translated to me, addressed the fact that the inhabitants had started to double up in housing. His advice was to trust in the Lord, for protection and not to fear evil. “Greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world.” comes to mind, even if it was not spoken. This was the end of the first week.

The blood was drained for the purpose of black magic. I am unfamiliar of the practices and hope to remain so; but animal blood is used in consecrating a new field or house in that region. I was told by Joseph that those wealthy enough would buy children and babies from the desperate to kill and use the blood for the same purpose (I cannot attest to the truth of this, although children do get kidnaped often.)

The Witch hunt

I was awakened by Joseph, who was very excited to tell me the news. “They have killed the murderer!” said Joseph. He was neither happy nor sad, only excited to spread the news. “They have the body in Mwera.” But to this he was corrected by the manager, “No, it is in...”  I could not remember the town, only that it was a long way in a place I never went to. News came a few days later that the town’s people had killed another murderer. With only two crimes both exactly alike I suspected an innocent man had died, but I do not know the details. That was the end of it for a time.

The eve before I was ready to depart with Chris back to Jinja I was lying in my bed waiting for my evening allotment of rice and beans, when Stephen entered the room shaking with fright and sweat had beaded up on his forehead. It glowed blue under the artificial light. “The murderers are serious now!” He shouted “They are going to cut my neck!” referring to an incident where the six of us had to sleep in one room with the windows shut on a hot night because Stephen was afraid to have his throat slit sleeping next to the window. I assured him that night there was more danger inside the room than out, and eventually I was forced to open the window myself, which he shut once I was asleep. I put my hand on Him and prayed for his protection and the removal of his fear. He felt better he said. I figured him being the youngest and well proven to be the most excitable of the crowd to be jumping at shadows.

 But when I exited the dorm I saw all the men talking loudly in their native languages and with that tone of fear in their voices. The murderers had slit the throat of a farmer man in daylight while he had gone to milk his cow in the morning. And later that day they tried to kill another man who had escaped and reported that it was not one murderer, but five. Chris later told me that a threatening note had been left in Mwera stating that, as Chris put it later, “We are really going to get you now... or something like that.” I stepped out onto the concrete patio and drew closer to Joseph, expecting him, due to his stillness in the commotion, to be more levelheaded. Then I saw the blueness to his skin. He told me of a dream where he had been chased by a man with a panga out of the fields. He had run to the compound and the man was attacked by a great snake that Joseph had passed by freely. This was enough for me.

I did not figure a murderer to attack a farm of ten men, but fear would, so I entered the room again to see Emma, Stephen and Tony. “If you think the situation is serious enough, we can take watch tonight,” I said.  Three yes's came from bobbing heads, and I drew on the board the watch terms - 10:00 – 12:00 first watch.  It was Tony and I. Twelve to two - Stephen and Emma, the inseparable duo, two to four - Joseph and I, though I was never awakened since we had other men come to stay in our bunks and they kept all but poor Tony from double shifts. We brought in from the garden shed all the pangas (teardrop shaped machetes).  The plan was to have two men armed with pangas watch in the dark, and walk anyone to the bathroom that got up at night. It was decided later that if a wave of attackers came, we would quietly wake the men each with his own panga, wait for the attacker to come to the door or window and then we would charge, hacking them to bits. It is just as laughable to me now as it was then. We played riddle games during and after lunch. This did wonders for the nerves. Emma started with something like this “I am born in cold water, I die in hot... something about eyes... I am so delicious.” It was guessed at for a while then Joseph, I do believe, answered “a frog” and his share of high fives was distributed. I went to the board and wrote from memory “I have no wings, yet I fly, I have no eyes, yet I cry.” They puzzled over the riddle for a while and never got it and so I was pleased and wrote another, “Never thirsty, always drinking, clad in mail, never clinking.” To this Stephen, who has a gift for riddles, answered correctly on the first try before I was finished writing; so I had to do another, “a chest without hinges, key or a lid, but inside golden treasure is hid.” Then Emma had a riddle. “I have skin, flesh and bone. I am so delicious. What am I?” This had me and the rest of us, and we needed to write the riddles on the board and number them, so we did not get mixed up as we almost did when the answer to the golden treasure riddle was given for Emma’s skin, flesh, and bone riddle. I was decided that we would think on the riddles over night during our various watches to pass time.

For the devotional we all prayed sincerely against the murder of innocents and the dark powers at work. Emma earlier that day had gone to another community meeting and the community, seeing that he was the only one there with a piece of paper and pen, made him village secretary. A tax was taken from all the residents of two hundred shillings for buying a set of flashlights for a community watch. The money and responsibility were given to Emma and he brought it back to the farm that night. I phoned Chris and asked to stay a few more nights. He said he would be in Kampala on Saturday for a radio show he was advocating Farming God's Way on and I could meet him in Kampala then.

The men went to bed and Tony put on all dark clothes, including a black plastic hoodie. He drew the hood stings till only a beady pair of white eyes shone from a black hole. He climbed under the table and crouched with his panga at the ready and I understood it was all business to him and my hopes of humorous conversation were crushed. So I sat in the corner eating groundnuts as they call them. We call them peanuts. I almost fell asleep, but the one thousand shilling tax for sleepers kept my eyes at half-mast. The only thing that happened of note other than the relief of sleep was when I thought to myself of the scene in Signs, when the alien in the bush at the Spanish children’s birthday video walks in front of the window and glances at the screaming children. I imagined a man with the same Sasquatch gate and momentary glance going past the front glass door. At that moment a wild dog, starting in the same corner as I was imaging, moved past, giving that same casual glance inside and disappearing just as quickly, leaving me just a little bit paler that I was. God has a pretty good sense of humor. Time was up and I woke Emma and Stephen and I fell asleep.

I woke the next day, everything was alright. We adjusted the night watch and Chris phoned to let me know that I could not stay till Saturday. He needed me the next day to work at Amazima, Katie Davis’s orphanage, and to get ready. I said my goodbyes, gave hugs and loaded my things in Chris's jeep. Chris stayed to give back test results to the students and to teach a lesson, during which it started to rain. Remembering last time we dropped the lesson and got in the jeep to leave before the road got muddy. No such luck. Already the tires spun and he went nowhere but down. Then all the students ran down through the torrent and lined up on the front of the jeep. They shoved and off we went. We turned around in the grass and jumped out the gate onto the muddy road. We slid only a little to the right and to the left and we were off. I don’t know any more about the witch murders or how the students were the next few nights. I will let you know if anything happens. My first meal away from rice and beans was a hamburger, and that was a mistake.

 

Spiritual Warfare

There have been reports of a spike in murders all across Uganda. Massese has had several and the north, where Tony and Joseph were from, has seen a lot more violence lately. This is Satan’s forces moving in. We as Christians are co-workers with God through our prayers and petitions. It is no exaggeration to say that you are a bigger part of this ministry than I am. I ask that you pray that the Lord of hosts would send his forces here to combat and take back ground from under the enemy’s feet.

Psalms 91: 3-8

“Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday. A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked. “

In Christ,

David Greene

Come Let's Dance, Kampala

My stay at CLD, a report on the murders of Mwera and an overview of Farming God's Way

This report can be a little graphic.

Well, I have a lot to report... my stay was not without incident or excitement; riots in Kampala, a witchdoctor's killing spree in our village, rice, posho and beans every day for lunch and supper, not to mention the wealth of knowledge I obtained about Uganda, farming and myself.

First Day and Evening Routine

To begin with, when I got dropped off, it was raining heavily and Chris's truck got stuck. The road company, having done a little grading, had removed the tough level of compact soil and we had nothing but disturbed clay and mud to slide on. It took us, about ten man hours to get him out and then when we were almost out, Chris's starter broke off, and the back left tire was shredded to the wires. Even earlier that day Chris had tried to wire all the money in his pocket to his wife, so she could pay some emergency bills... only the money got lost in cyberspace. Then another truck got stuck, up past us a ways.

It was at that moment the uncannyness got to me and being deeply immersed in the Adventures of Tom Sawyer, I figured a witch has cast a spell on us. I asked Chris if we could come together in prayer.  Witches and wizards, although reduced to fantasy and marketing in the US,  practice more widely than I would have believed, having been told before coming out here. There are several per village. (We have one right by Chris's house in Jinja. He has a small shack, a big black sign, and a waiting bench, peopled by customers in line for what exactly I don’t know. I try to say a prayer, combating the forces of darkness at work there, when I pass.)  We, a few of the students, Chris, and I gathered together. Chris prayed with commands for Satan’s angels to take their hands off his car, off his family, his wife, his children, me, the teacher Chelsea, off the students of CLD, the farm and me. In Jesus's name he finished. I was struck by the commanding force of his prayer.

I remained to eat a late, late lunch of rice and beans and posho (flour put in boiling water until it becomes clotted evenly).  When I returned to the action it just so happened that the other gentlemen stuck was a bush mechanic. He fixed the starter and we then unstuck Chris's truck and changed the tire with a spare, that due to the condition of the roads I had been wondering when we would use from the time I arrived in Uganda. {note to the Wise's}. I said goodbye to Chris as he was journeying to South Africa for an annual conference of Farming God's Way leaders for two weeks. That is why I was staying at CLD near Nansana, Kampala in a little village known as Mwera for this time.

I had no objections to this; in fact, I was looking forward to it. He was the last white person I saw for a week and a half. Yes, the prayer worked. God got us out of this mess with His All Sufficiency; all we had to do was ask. If you remember the story of Job, Satan had to go before the Lord to ask to touch one of Gods people. I believe this is the case now as well. This is my Father's world. As we were dislodging the other truck from the clay bank, a man staggered down the road. He had red bloodshot eyes; a sign of bad heath or many severe fevers says Chris. He picked a fight with one of the CLD students and was wrestled to the ground. He lay there a minute and shot up, trying to attack the man again. "Is he mad?" I asked. "Yes, he is mad," said one of the students. I jumped down out of the truck bed, where I had been bouncing to give the back tires more force, to between the two men. The mad man’s eyes never met mine; they were locked on the other gentleman. I put my hand on his shoulder. I grabbed a human skeleton, laminated in black skin. I wondered how often he was able to eat, or if anyone took care of this mad man. All the while he was making animal like sounds - grunts, growls, and murmurs, not imitations of any animal directly. I assumed he was deaf from an early age, but emotional groans. He went about his way and we got the African mechanic’s truck free and on its way. Later I snuck the mad man a bowl of our famous rice, posho and beans. He smiled and quickly downed the food like a beverage. He has been back every other day since and the camp cook, of his own accord, feeds him the leftovers. :)

The residents of CLD are:  the manager, Josh, 26, a loud powerful Ugandan man, who loves to praise Jesus with the power of his lungs; the camp cook, Fredrick, 17, the most jolly man I have ever met, usually seen in purple pants, one leg rolled higher than the other. He had an ear to ear grin peeled right off the Cheshire cat; Emma or Emanuel, 23, a smart, witty, humored young man always quick with an African saying or a hilarious comment; Steve, 18, the youngest of the lot, sporting sports tees and listening to music on his radio, he clung to Emma a lot the two being best friends; Joseph, 25, from the northern areas of Uganda. A very happy man, I cannot say he is the most educated as he said "It was been ten years since I held a book." but most assuredly the most, how shall I say it... the most praising person I have ever met, a truly Godly man; Tony, 25, another man from up north speaking the same native language as Joseph and from the same darker skinned tribe, a people pleaser, but good nonetheless; and Godfrey, in his thirty’s, the only man with a wife and the only other introvert besides myself, always quiet, the hardest worker, but when he did speak it was always hilarious, dry humored; and a few farm hands who kept to themselves, the majority with mental problems.

We were all filthy and removing the clothes I grabbed a basin, a bar of soap, water and shampoo, went into a small cubical for some cold bucket bathing. It gets the job done.  It is quiet refreshing. We ate more rice and beans, had a small devotional led by each of the students one day of the week. Then the Ugandans sang African songs of praise, and then prayed each one all talking at the same time. When this happened, I jumped in my skin a little, being used to letting prayer be a time of silence. Then we all went to bed, sleeping in one room, six of us, three bunk beds draped in mosquito nets with one tiny window. The nights could get a bit loud and, if the window were closed, very hot, but I found putting in my ear buds and listing to an audiobook did the trick. In this way I completed The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Heart of Darkness, A Journey to the Center of the Earth and the beginning of The Divine Comedy. And that was the evening routine.

An Overview of Farming God's Way

The next day we woke around 7:30, prepared ourselves and I went to my Well Watered Garden to place inputs in the grid of holes I had dug a few weeks earlier. I had nine rows, three of maze with manure, three with diamoniumphosphate (DAP) and three furrows of beans, one with manure, two with DAP. Then I covered them, leaving 5cm for the maze seed which I soaked, to awaken the seed from hibernation. Then I planted three maze seeds in each hole in a line and the beans in the furrows four fingers apart each. I covered the holes without packing. I slashed grass stalks and laid them horizontal to the slope of the land to catch water running downhill. This mulch layer we call God's Blanket, because He often has a layer of decaying matter on His garden as well. Have you ever felt dry ground? Chances are it was exposed to the sun with nothing to cover it. Now place your hand under some leaves and feel the dampness of the soil. It retains water by preventing evaporation and the more seasons you do this, soon you will have the ground become a sponge from the plant matter. It is a way of ensuring good yields for the poor of Africa. The holes are measured carefully and to high standards, so it may be repeated year after year in the same spots, so you don’t waste your materials. Farming God's Way is taught with three key pillars of success: technology, management, and biblical principles. The loss of any one of these is like taking one leg from a three legged stool. You need technology, such as tools and knowledge to plant the garden; you need management to be to high standards and on time with accurate measurements; and you need to remember the biblical principles. They are:

1) Acknowledge God and God alone

2) Consider your ways

3) Understanding God’s All Sufficiency

4) What you sow you will reap

5) Bring the tithes and offerings to God

6) Stake your claim

 

These six each address a real world problem for the poor and offer God's solution.

The curses of sub Saharan Africa are many. A man may go to church on Sunday claiming to be a Christian and then go to the witch doctor on Wednesday for advice. Or one may claim to be a Muslim to Muslims and Christian to Christians, but God cannot be mocked. He sees the heart. “No one can serve two masters,” said Jesus. There are more "saved people in parts of Africa than people, suggesting people have gotten "saved" time and again, more often to get something. Christianity is a mile wide and an inch deep. God is a jealous God he doesn’t bless those who mix his name with demons and false beliefs. Without discipleship, obedience and a relationship with Christ you do not experience the fullness of life promised to those who turn and follow him, though you have salvation.

Consider your ways; Africa has three main curses:  bloodshed and violence, the curse of a short life and the curse on what the land produces. African farmers will burn last season’s crops, instead of putting that nutrition back into the soil, then till the soil and plant in a scattering of seeds. The first year you may have alright crops, but the second will be significantly less and the third is almost worthless. Then the farmer will slash and burn somewhere else and start the process all over again instead of taking care of the land, putting in inputs and rotating crops. The way a person was taught may not be the best way.  Consider your ways. 1 Thessalonians 2:12 "Walk in a manner worthy of the God who calls you into His own kingdom and glory."

Africans are dependent on governments, white men and NGO’s (nongovernment organizations) for sources of money and food. Giving is not a bad thing, but over time if we are not wise with giving, we may create dependency syndrome. Africans view farming as a deadbeat’s job. They have it in their mind that, if they can just move closer to the city, then they can make it bigger in life. This, however, is the opposite from the truth. Understanding God's all sufficiency breaks the dependency syndrome, in realizing that what you have is enough. God has given these men land, the ability to have cheap inputs of composted brush, and God’s blanket. In the beginning Adam and Eve had nothing but the land to work. God has given man everything he needs to live a full and prosperous life. He also gave man authority over all His creation to rule over it. As we rule the living creatures they should not only be protected from destruction, they should flourish under our faithful stewardship

What you sow you will reap, 2 Thessalonians 3:10"If a man will not work then neither should he eat." So many people here will not work. Some don’t do a good job, if given the opportunity, partly out of a lack of knowledge, but mostly out of a lack of caring. God’s solution is contrary to the worlds. We need to give rather than receive. When we give, His irrevocable laws come in to play once again and He will cause even greater measure to be given back to us. Acts20:35 says "It is more blessed to give than to receive."

Malachi 3:7-12 “From the days of your fathers you have turned aside from My statutes and have not kept them. Return to Me, and I will return to you” says the Lord of hosts. “But you say, “How shall we return?” “Will a man rob God? Yet you are robbing Me! But you say, “How have we robbed You?” In tithes and offering. You are cursed with a curse, for you are robbing Me, the whole nation of you! Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, so that there may be food in My house, and test Me now in this, ”says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open for you the windows of heaven and pour out for you a blessing until it overflows. Then I will rebuke the devourer for you, so that it will not destroy the fruits of the ground; nor will your vine in the field cast its grapes, “says the Lord of hosts. “All the nations will call you blessed, for you shall be a delightful land,” says the Lord of hosts.”

Spiritual warfare is directly applicable to the agricultural domain, so stake your claim, James 5 :14 “The effective prayers of a righteous man can accomplish much.” Be humble, acknowledge God's ways are higher than our ways. Seek his presence rather than his blessing, confess and repent, ask and you will receive. Praying over the land, rebuking the darkness of deeds done on the land, ask for His lordship over the land, ask Him to heal the land and commit your farm to His kingdom. Take back the ground under the enemy.  God is for us not against us and he desires for our farms to be blessed. We must be faithful with the small things first, hence, starting me out on a small, well-watered garden.

These are a few examples of the spiritual side of Farming God’s Way that I am picking up from a very large book, an overview. The spiritual aspect was the most important to show you, as it has made a very, very beneficial, lasting result in my life. 

A Few Key Incidents

The Western Mind vs. the Ugandan Mind

We were asked to clear holes, place imputs, and plant/cover a large scale garden. This took two weeks, during which I, naturally, being a Westerner, tried to compete with the other workers to show them what I'm made of. Having worked with my brother Travis in his contracting company, I feel confident about my work ethics. As normal as competition is in our culture this was noted as offensive to the Ugandans, I found out a few days later. We, through osmosis of our culture, when we do not look to God for his view, we see our self worth in what we have and have accomplished. We look down on those whom we consider less than us and envy those of more “worth”. I found this in myself, but I combat it and believe myself not to look down on or envy others, but it takes constant management.

Ants!

One night around 3 or 4am I was awakened by Joseph, speaking frantically in Luganda to all of us. Believing there was an emergency, I asked Emma what he said. “He said he found some white ants.” I almost catapulted out of that bed. I was mad! Of course, I did not understand the full meaning of white ants. I thought it was a ridiculous reason to get excited and wake up six men at 3-4am, but I just endured the clamor and went back to sleep. The next morning I found a tub, inches deep with winged termites, squirming, humming and climbing over one another. Then I realized what the fuss was all about. That night I was glad to eat somthing other than rice and beans.

Four Muslim Children Come to the Lord

By far, the best part was when Joseph brought a group of three 14 year old girls and a 15 year old boy to the farm on two different occasions. Once the 15 year old boy was dressed in girls' clothing out of ignorance. That first visit I called him a girl on accident and was quickly put right. They came and Joseph explained the gospel using John 3:16, and repeating "no one comes to the Father except through me". I was present. I asked them what about Jesus they liked most. “He loves children," the boy said. ”Indeed, he does,” said I. I felt my presence as a white man to be distracting, so I went inside to watch from a window as Joseph continued talking to them. Joseph had found the girls by the town pump and had started to share the gospel to them. I do believe he is still discipling these children. I was told their dad was Muslim.

India Mark What?

I have taken a class on pumping water with Equip Inc. And so upon arriving at the farm, I was excited to see an India Mark II in its natural habitat, and not in a class room setting. The men said that the pump was broken and my fingers itched to turn nuts and bolts. I diagnosed the pump by lifting the handle a few times and listening to the sounds and symptoms of the sick pump, checking it against common problems I knew. It took several quick pumps to lift the water and it did not hold charge well, losing the water almost instantly to greater depths. Upon seeing that the borehole was only 19 meters, I understood, or so I thought. The India Mark II is a deep well pump and either doesn't pump or doesn't pump well at shallow depths. The repair would be expensive, but for now the men were content with it. A few days later I awoke to see some men lifting the head off the pump. I helped with the heavy lifting and once the MS rod was up I watched one of the men use a tree to straighten massive bends. Then to my suprise they started destroying the concrete foot pad and run off spillway. Then I had to attend to class. When I returned they were pulling up the riser main. I jumped in. It had two ropes leading to the bottom and was made of pvc instead of steel. This reminded me of an afrodev, a pump designed to work and be as cheap as possible, but not as rugged as the India Mark II. When the cylinder was up, I saw the telltale foot valve. Not only this, but the bore hole, instead of being only a few inches in diameter was closer to three feet. I speculated that they just placed this contraption over an existing hand dug well. It took about a week to repair the well. In the meantime we carried water from the church on the hill. I went without a bath for a while. When it was repaired and I bathed, I poured away something the color of water and tomato soup mixed. It gets dusty out here.

Sanitation

I found a job improving sanitation at CLD. I waged war on the thick horde of flies in the dining/living/only room. I used deet spray on myself and objects the deet would not corode, smacking and snatching every fly I could. I must have killed at least twenty or more by hand. They crawl on everything - people, food, in your eyes and mouth like they do on livestock. The men here really just endured their presences. I suppose they figured it to be an unchangeable constant in Ugandan life. I, however went on the warpath. Still, I left the farm and the flies had not decreased in number in the least. The cook cooked on the ground and I often found insect parts where something landed on the food that has been sitting in the open since lunch and got trapped. A man got sick here within the first week. I remembered Chris had pruned a sprig of Artemishea, an extremely medicinal plant, found to cure malaria and boost the body's immune system. I placed the sprig in my tea one morning, and afterwards for extra insurance ate the twig. I never got sick.

I built a Tippy tap (a bush-life handwashing system) next to the dry toilets, in the fashion I copied from Equip's training facility. It is simply a post and lintel structure from the forest, God's all sufficiency. Then I placed a jerry can in suspension with ropes at first, and then wire due to the weight. A wire ran from the mouth of the jug to a stick with traction, having one end of the stick lifted into the air by the wire. This creates a peddle for pouring the water. Then, and finally, I heated a nail and punctured the soap to create soap on a rope! Then I grabbed a large lid and ran the soap's rope through the middle to act like an umbrella for the soap during rain. All in all, it works very well as a touchless hand washing station.

The Concert of a Lifetime

My first Saturday on the farm, Josh, the manager, had a relationship with a London college as a large supporter, and they were having a virginity rally. That's all I knew going in to this. We traveled to Nansana by cramped public taxi. I was able to buy a Twix bar at a shopping center and write a few letters at an internet cafe before we entered the college campus. Once there I noticed what a neat place this was. It was not a Christian school; there were plenty of Muslims here. But I followed the gang composed of Emma, Stephen, Josh and Joseph, all decked out to the nines, into an open air auditorium. The students clapped for the visitors, us, and we were ushered to the front seats. They opened with a song sung by a very nervous lady. A loud Ugandan got on stage and sung in Luganda, so that part was lost to me. The manager Josh got up and got the crowd of about two hundred going, said a few words for the preservation of virginity and the rest of this was in Luganda. I checked my watch. We had arrived at 11:55. I remembered this clearly. At 2:00 I said they must be ready to wind down now. Since the whole thing was in Luganda, I was left only to clap until my hands signed a cease fire with each other. Then we went for lunch... a large bowl of rice and beans and posho and matooke (a sugarless banana starch dish like mashed potatoes with seeds) and a little meat of unknown origin was set before me with no fork. I realized all the staff ate with their hands. I tried it, and tried again, but I just couldn't get the technique down. So I picked a flat bone out of a piece of meat and used that. We reconvened for more singing and dancing and then they played a certain popular African praise pop song. Little did I know I was sitting next to the singer and song writer himself - Joseph! He had recorded a widely popular song fused in English and his native tribal language of Luo (his and Tony's tribe being the Langi.) Joseph got up on stage and sang. “Lord, you,'re so powerful, so wonderful. I'm singing and dancing. Repeat, repeat. Jesus Christ is the Creator of the universe, He is the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End"... at 6:00pm we left before the rally was over. Wow! Six hours of singing, dancing, sitting, standing and continuous clapping, and one man claimed to speak in tongues, but being in Luganda it was all the same to me.

C.H.E (Community Health Evangelism) Principles

I was given one evening devotional during my time at CLD, so I posed a topic, inward disiplines, and instead of me talking the entire time and standing at the head of the room, I sat down in a corner,and asked one of the men to write on the board for us. The four columns we had were meditation, prayer, fasting and study. I asked the men what each meant to them, the scribe writing a few points then trading with another individual. We learned different methods and we each taught each other.

Journey to the Tree

The entire time I was present there, between me and the horizon standing high above all the other trees was this one thickus tree. It had branches high above the tops of the forest, spreading wide like it had grown as high as God would allow and was still thirsty to expand, developing a mushroom top out of the vine-covered Atlas's arm-like branches. I took many pictures and have compiled a video for you on my facebook, “The Journey to the Great Tree.” I must admit once the farm disappeared behind me, with the reeds scraping and clawing in retaliation of my every move through pathless marshes, I felt a little afraid, but I desired to make this journey a war against fear. I had taken the safety precautions of telling someone where I was going and marking the trail, as well as bringing a few medicinal supplies for first aid. On my way back, of course, as is custom to all tomfoolery, I got lost, but I cut across some fields and made it back to the farm covered in hitchhikers and a little wet, but wearing the biggest smile.

In Christ,

David Greene

Week Three

Well, countrymen and loved ones, it is the close of week three, counting of course, in the middle of the week. This week was much more ministry driven as I am getting used to the way things are. On Thursday, I went to Jinja Main, a prison here. I was picked up by some ministry workers from YWAM (Youth With A Mission). I was driven into Jinja, down close to the lake front past the water treatment plant. The air had a quite repulsive stench for miles around. Then we came to the entrance to the prison. A large overbearing green gate barred our way. I was with two African ladies, both representatives of YWAM Uganda. One, whom I have become good friends with since, is Judith, 24, the only woman I know who can pull off feminine dreadlocks. The other is her friend Mary, whom I have not seen since.

 As a true man of the South, I felt it my duty to protect these women from the inmates should I need to. Judith walked up and knocked on the gate.  A small circular slit opened and a voice spoke in Luganda to Judith. I was reminded of the opening scene from Return of the Jedi. Presently, the gate opened and I walked in to the dark of the entrance way, which was large and housed many guards. On forward of us is the main courtyard where prisoners in yellow suits ran, crowded and shouted. Drums echoed from deep in the prison. There were no guards inside the prison. After turning in everything in our pockets we entered. It was like being in a pit with three stories of prison cells rising up on all sides, dotted with yellow jackets hanging like flags.

 Prisoners jeered from above and clutched the bars of the overlook. As we entered the prison all inmates stop to look at the two women and the white boy. As we walked prisoners congested around us and a great crowd began following us. I lead the women (not knowing where I was going, but operating on luck and correction) to the third floor, with the drums getting louder each stairwell and corner we passed. We came to a corner of the third floor of the prison where Judith motioned me to a bench. The crowd of prisoners stopped and took seats against the wall. There were two large cowhide drums, the source of the foreboding music, and two amplifiers with microphones, which the prisoners had already set up. I had not been fully told what I was getting into and I was quite afraid.  I only knew that I had been given Judith’s number and given the option of joining in on a prison ministry and that I must encourage the prisoners. Then, I noticed a few of the prisoners had tattered Bibles and Judith was very well acquainted with the inmates. Within minutes we were all singing, jumping and worshiping Jesus in Luganda.  Judith spoke, in English, a message of encouragement and it was translated into Luganda, as did Mary and a few of the prisoners. Two hours later we exited and I felt so inspired by what Christ and His church has been accomplishing.

I purchased five Bibles (all the stores had) in Luganda for the prisoners and took them to Judith, as I will not be able to join the next two weeks. I will be in Kampala, the capital of Uganda at Come Let’s Dance School for Farming God's Way. There is no dancing involved, the name is a hand-me-down from the previous business. I have been back to the Village of Hope orphanage several times and have set up a listening group for Faith Comes by Hearing. I was intending the proclaimer to go to an adult group, but one of the children found it in my back pack and brought it to me. I played it for them and they keep asking me back. They have become so involved with the book of Revelation... I did not know that that was what they were listening to until they were a good ways into the story, as it plays in Luganda.

I have become confident in my navigation and public transportation, just took a few more times of getting lost :) none of which were on purpose. I have spent much time working inwardly on my life. I am confronted with the reality that the orphanage, the prison, the ministry initiatives are all just as needed back home. When I return I will pick up with the men and women, the organizations around there to do just as I am here, just I don’t need to learn a new language. I have been practicing many spiritual disciplines. Following along with Richard Foster’s text, The Celebration of Discipline, and Sir Thomas a Kempis's The Imitation of Christ, as well as, scriptural readings and meditations, I have felt God’s hand and His leading. I have seen Him work.

In events here at the Sperling house, Chris had gotten malaria, but had medicated himself quickly and was over it in three days. Please pray for Jane's father who is losing blood and yet, not bleeding. Jane has been so attentive and strong with the whole situation, as she travels and stays days in Kampala trying to work with the crazy hospital situation. The boys have started home school here with a lady from Canada named Chelsey.  We finished hooking the house completely to solar. Please continue to pray for me and for God’s will and direction to be taken. Pray that I may think His thoughts after Him and join Him where He is working. As well, pray that my fear leaves and I may take courage in myself. I am off to CLD tomorrow. I may be the only white person in 50 kilometers, says Chris.

.

In Christ,

 

David Greene

 

Week Two

Well, it is the second week and everything is just as good as last week. A few notable things - we killed a few baby ‘black mambas’ in and around the house, not bad for the second week. I was helping reverse the polarity of Chris’s house lights and Isaiah, one of Chris’s children, was helping me. As a plus he got to look at a few of my cool things as we were working where I sleep. "Aw, you baked me a cake," he said, looking at the white box of the proclaimer. I pulled it out and turned it on just to show him. It started playing the New Testament in Luganda.  In a few seconds, the helper known as Jethro had entered the room to start listening. He took it with him as he worked that day. I can’t wait to find a place to play this openly in a listening group.

Now get this, this is how the Lord can work... So there I was on the streets of Jinja with Jane, who was showing me how to use public transportation.  We ate at Ozzie's, a diner run by an elderly Australian woman. Jane was about to leave me and return home to tend to the children and I was about to roam the streets freely, when she spied another missionary at the cafe just across the streets. Jane took me over and introduced me to Anna Marie, an Australian Christian missionary, also 19 yrs. old, who offered to introduce me to another missionary I had heard about from Chris and Jane, Andrew Oleson, 20yrs. Anna and I would meet Andrew later that day, but first Anna wanted to show me a home she worked at that took care of babies and children affected by HIV. I played with some babies for a few hours or so and talked with Anna, who has a very loving heart for the children of this nation, till it was time to meet Andrew and his friend Micah, 25yrs. Turns out, Andrew had been praying for another male missionary friend, and as a plus he mentioned he had been craving beef jerky, which I happened to have from the States.  I shared and the four of us played cards at Andrew’s and Micah’s apartment till it became dark. Anna lives just across the street from Chris and Jane, about a 45 minute walk up a hillside.

The next day I was invited to an orphanage village of hope, where I played with some older children. A few older young men, upon hearing I was an American, became very interested in me. I took this opportunity to tell them a little of the birth of our nation and how we honored (yasue) Jesus in the beginning and as a people. He blessed us with our land and wealth as a nation. I shared the importance of keeping a relationship with Christ by reading his word and seeking to hear and obey him. By this time I had to return home as it was getting dark and it is dangerous to travel at night. So, I decided to get lost and wander around in pitch black until I found the railroad tracks that run past Chris’s house. I asked some children the way to St. Benedict’s, a school near Chris’s house, and found my way home. I met a mad man. We have those around here. They have glaring red eyes and could be demonic, mental or drugged, but other than a little weirdness and noises he gave me no trouble.

On another day I traveled with Chris to an eastern region in Uganda fairly close to Kenya, this place had more acacia trees and was located in a savannah setting. Chris was helping some Christian friends with farming God’s way in a village way out in the bush. These people have thatched roof houses with mud sides, and they live together in a family group with the oldest man being the center and all his dependents living in huts around him. This elderly man was the pastor of a mud hut church. I talked with an 18yr. old boy named Daniel. He showed me around his village and explained a few things.

Sunday I went to a Ugandan church. It was a wonderful experience to meet other brothers and sisters in Christ, and not know what they are saying, but feeling the same as a church does back home. Monday I went with Chris and Jane out north about three hours along dirt roads to Jane’s father’s homestead, built in the same way around the father as the village closer to Kenya. While I was there, a little child named Sammy put a bean in his ear and had to go to the hospital to get it out. We had to wait a long time to see the doctor.

 I am working on translating the five Evangelism Explosion points of the gospel into Luganda, so I can tell it to people at the appropriate times. 1 Heaven is a free gift; it cannot be earned or deserved. 2 Man is a sinner; he cannot save himself. 3 God is merciful, but He is also just.  He must punish sin. 4 Christ is fully God and fully man. He died on the cross and rose from the dead to purchase heaven and intimacy with God. 5 Saving faith is not just head knowledge, nor is it temporary faith, but trusting in Christ alone for salvation. I plan to visit Massese slum soon, but I am instructed not to go alone without some experienced missionary there who knows Massese. Thank you all once again for praying and supporting me!

 

In Christ,

 

David Greene 

Weekly Field Report #1 first week

Well, I made it, and with no bumps in the road, no flights were off schedule. This is, of course, due in full to the amount of prayer I have been shrouded in. Thank you all! Please don’t stop. I remember seeing the banana trees and mud brick houses when we touched down. Tall grasses and acacia trees spotted the red dust of the land. “Well, this is Africa,” I said to myself. I wondered if Chris, the man I was to meet, would be waiting for me or had traffic in Kampala slowed him. I remember warnings not to take pictures of the airport, police or the dam at Jinja. I was worried that my passport would not get stamped and I would need to spend 30 US dollars a day or return home. I wanted to be careful how I acted in front of the immigration officer, so he would not deny me 90 days. I got in line and waited. When it was my turn I had my passport and vaccinations certification. I handed them to the officer. He checked them, then asked for 50 US dollars. I tried to unzip my vest to reach my wallet, but the vest would not unzip. I fought, tugged, pulled, massaged and tore, but my wallet was as good as untouchable.  I tried to go in from under my vest, but no avail. The officer, now very impatient with me, waved me to get out of line, as I had taken the time three normal un-David people would have used. Well, I got it out and handed the money to the man and he stamped my passport for 3 months. Again, your prayers. Then I wondered if my bag had come on the same flight or would I need to hold up in chairs for hours till I received it. But as I walked to the revolving baggage claim I found it just fine.

I had not waited long until Chris Sperling greeted me with a hug. Chris has a large Canadian accent and very clear pronunciation of words. He speaks in statements and requests, stern, albeit polite. Then I met four of his seven children – Kenny, 9, Albert, 8, Isaiah, 6, and Ezra, 3. They are intelligently curious little boys and well-mannered, as well. As we drove from the airport my senses were 134% - so much to see and take in. Chris walked me through a few key cultural differences and sayings in Lugandan.  It was a three hour drive with no speed limit to Jinja from Entebbe and he had to go through Kampala, a city well known for traffic and accidents. It takes hours to get through it with no way around. But it was Sunday and not only that, but the day before the first day of school, so no one was out and about and we made it within an hour -another grace of your prayers! Then we drove through a rainforest, where I saw my first wild monkey. The people walk alongside the road and actually in the road. The other drivers will pass and try to run you off the road. No defensive drivers allowed. That is the most dangerous thing you can be here. You do not pass from Entebbe to Jinja without seeing at least one bad, bad wreck on the road. Many die in car accidents here. But Chris, living here for about 15 years, has never been in more than a fender-bender. I wonder Who be the cause of that?

Munzungo is what white people are called here. We are very few. Chris and I were the only ones I had seen before today, when I saw two, no doubt white teachers here to teach school. I have settled in well and gotten over jet lag. Chris and his wife Jane are gracious hosts, their children are delightful and the scenery is so beautiful. I am learning much and praying often. The lord has definitely prepared this, there can be no doubt. I fell asleep after lunch on the first day. I had not slept in two days due to my time traveling around the earth. The food here is all homegrown and fresh! Pineapples, papaya, tomatoes, corn, beans, potatoes and bananas have so much more flavor! There is no comparison. I had heard this was true, but until I tasted... There are usually a minimum of ten people around Chris’s table and many hot bowls of food - chicken, rice, gravy - all fresh. We just killed our dinner chicken today. I got it on video. The Sperling’s have two home workers, Jethro and Feona. They are relatively mysterious and hide some times. They don’t speak English very well. They cook our meals out on charcoal fires in a cooking shed outside. It’s hardcore. They are also clean.  

Chris’s house has a large wall around it with an iron gate. Ugandans do not respect property laws very well and there are many wild beasts of the field. The next day I went with Chris to help teach Farming God’s Way. I got to see how a missionary works. We went to a place called Kira farm where we met several Ugandan students. Chris taught the lesson in English and Lugandan. Farming God’s Way is a holistic Christ centered way to farm.

 First, he asked us if we had problems farming... “What are a few of the problems?” he said. People listed their problems, and then he asked us if God was a farmer. We thought and said “yes.” “He gardens through fields and the forests,” said one elderly Ugandan. “How does God farm?” Chris asked, “What does his garden get and what does ours get? “We made a table - both gardens get sunshine, rain, soil and food, but man’s garden gets plowed, burned and has one crop and open soil and weeds, whereas God’s garden has biodiversity, no plow, no weeds and God’s blanket. The earth’s natural layer of plants is an eco-system untilled. Later in the lesson he showed us that farming is the best way to fight poverty with Uganda’s fertile soil. We need three things to fight poverty: technology, management and God’s word or biblical keys. Seek ye first all the kingdom of god and all other things will be added unto you. Chris tied in several Bible verses, always turning to the Bible for the answers, keeping God at the center and illuminating new life through faith in Jesus Christ. Then we went out into the field to mark out plots of student gardens. Today, the third day in Uganda I did housework, as there were no classes to teach. I got to know the family better and get settled in. I made friends with the neighborhood boy and a deaf mute child who is discarded by the community as stupid with no chance. I spent extra time riding bicycles with him. With the children who did not understand English I constructed simple games such as throwing rocks at some yellow flowers in a tree to knock them down. They giggled and understood without words what I was trying to do. I may have found an audience for my proclaimer, but more relationship is needed. I have been in and out of town picking up parts to help Chris convert his house to solar energy as at night we only have one light. As I type, Chris is evangelizing a neighbor man. I love it here. My senses are at 134% taking all this in. It is amazing how exciting snapping beans off a vine can be when you don’t know what you are being told :) Keep praying for me, I am learning so much so fast and enjoying it all.

Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all these things will be added unto thee.

In Christ,

David Greene

Weekly Field Report - Pre Field

From Black Mountain NC, by David Greene through Equip Inc.

Thank you all for supporting me with your friendships, prayers and donations! I am truly indebted to you for making this mission trip to Jinja, Uganda possible. I am departing this Friday from Charlotte Regional Airport at 3:00pm and flying to Chicago. From there I go to London, spending almost twelve hours there, and then flying to Entebbe, Uganda. I will be picked up by Chris Sperling and driven two hours to the city of Jinja. I will be staying with Chris and his family for 60% of the time, the other 40% will be at his school CLD (Come Let’s Dance) where Chris teaches Farming God’s Way to locals for a year. I do not know why it is called Come Let’s Dance, I’m just accepting it, but I will find out for my own curiosity and let you know. Let’s hope I don’t have to dance.

For ministry opportunities I will go to reflect Christ in my life to the people of Uganda, to witness and to share Him when given the permissible opportunity. I am bringing an Every Church Every Village “Proclaimer” which is a solar/hand-crank/wall plug powered device that plays an audio dramatized version of the New Testament in Luganda, the native language of Ugandan people, for audiences ranging from 300 to 1,000 people. I will initiate a listening group for the proclaimer and leave it in Jinja when I return.   http://www.faithcomesbyhearing.com/every-church-every-village-testimonies <- here are some testimonies of this form of ministry.

I have squared away my shots for Uganda, the plane ticket, insurance, passport and I’m getting a visa stamp at Entebbe. I am bringing: clothing, bug sprays, sunscreen, medications, filtered water bottle, a proclaimer, a summer sleeping bag, a backpack, a camera, one iPod, lots of books, emergency food, Gatorade powder and my Bible... Well it’s off to the races. Thanks once again! I am looking forward to the work the Holy Spirit will perform around and in me.

In Christ,

David Greene

 Psalm 91 ~ 1-16  

Thanks to my loving Donors!

"I am carried on the shoulders of

those who cannot see the landscape I describe,

 I owe them, more than my weight." 

- unknown

Thank you, all you wonderful generous donors, who are supporting me as I do the will God has led me to do. I am certain in this. As His peace rests upon my heart for this life I am called to, and as He opens doors and closes others, He leads me on. I cannot thank you all enough, God Bless You!

 “God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord” – 1 Corinthians 1:9

In, Christ

David Greene

Missionary Education Part 2 Pumping Water

It’s been a while since I have been able to put finger to keyboard, (pen to paper). I would like to inform you of the fulfillment of my promise to take a skill to the mission field. During my first class CHE, I asked our director Barrie Flitcroft, if there was one class that above all others is needed in the field. He told me the greatest need is repairing pumps. Statistically in Africa 200 of every 300 pumps don’t work. Even the heartiest India Mark II Pumps, if pumped round the clock by a line of women with pots on their heads, will break in 6 months. The U.N. and other NGOs (Non-Government Organizations) will drill wells all over Africa for about ten thousand dollars per well hole. But when the pump breaks, no one in the village knows how to fix it. Then someone else comes close by and drills another well.  It yields the same health and wealth results for the villagers, if you can repair nearby wells. Now women, who had to take a quarter of their day to fetch water for their villages from a populated river, can go to the local village pump again and get cold clean water. If you teach a responsible villager pump repair, they can handle any usual breaks from then on, in theory. Well, I prayed about it and went for it – the pump repair class.

 My experience of being on Equip’s campus at Providence Farms is always that of entering a secret sanctuary, or fortress of solitude. I arrived at 5:00 Sunday and was ushered into the sugar-white buildings that are kept Tillie  Flitcroft -clean ß(top standard of cleanliness) and treated to the most delicious country food all week.  You can in your spare time walk about in the green horse pastures or trek through the woods. The projects’ experiments dot your vision. There are always questions to be asked of one bush-invention or the other and there is always someone around happy and knowledgeable to answer questions. Many of the inventions and projects have been reproduced back here at home, such as a rooftop garden pot and a tippy-tap (bush hand washing station). In Equip’s large supply of missionary literature I found and created a permaculture garden and a rabbitry for farming rabbits. I want to add a barrelponics system when I can.http://www.backyardaquaponics.com/Travis/Barrel-ponics-Manual.PDF

In Equip’s classes you learn a lot through the week, and you can also learn much from the other missionaries and development workers. I am now completely skilled in eight major pumps found most commonly in third world countries: India Mark II, Bush Pump, Afrodev, Canzee/Tara, Wheel Pump, Direct-action Pump, and Pitcher Pump. We started off learning the basics of how a pump works and familiarizing ourselves with the names of all the pump parts and fixing tools.

Then we went down and one at a time took apart each pump and put them back together again. This took all of the first day, then while we the students were at dinner that night, the instructors Keith Larrimore, Lou Bradbury, and Harold Bracken broke each pump in a field related way. The second day comprised of fixing each pump. Remember we learn from our mistakes, and I’d say the most was taught on this day. Then once we had fixed all the pumps without the instructors’ guidance, our final challenge was a special break on the India Mark II, the most rugged, most commonly found pump, which incidentally is the hardest and most dangerous to work on. This one can pump water from up to 200 ft. deep. Pulling it up in ten foot pipe sections, we had to lift only 65ft, yet the  weight of the steel was so enormous no one man can do this and not without vises and C-wrenches. It takes three men to repair the pump. In this case scenario of the special break, the riser main had been disconnected from improper installation and the cylinder was hanging by the MS rod alone, which is very easy to drop down the well and then you must go “fishing”. In this one the instructors showed us an easier way to lift the pumps out of the ground, using pulleys and a tripod vs. the old method of three men, a pair of C-wrenches and a vise clamp.

 After this we covered well sanitation and water testing. Then it was time to say goodbye to all the other missionaries and go home, fully knowing how to repair all types of pumps. I got out of the class on Friday and on Saturday I fixed my brother’s back yard Pitcher Pump. Using an old innertube tire piece, I made a fully functional foot valve, the old one having rotted out and broken the vacuum, allowing the pump to suck air instead of water. I feel fully prepared to take on a pump out in the bush… just let me get some tools first.  

-      Phil 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

In Christ,

David Greene

Calling the Shots

Yesterday I made 200 Prayer bookmarks to hand out with letters asking for support to possible sponsors. Today I called the Health Dept. to get the necessary shots for travel in Uganda. The only mandatory shot is yellow fever, but to be on the safe side I am including typhoid, hepatitis A, and a prescription against malaria. I had been informed that shots would be $1,000 or more, hence the $4,500 on my handy-dandy thermometer. The total is actually $251 making my new goal $3,751! Wow, Uganda gets closer every day. Please continue to pray for me as I make my preparations, and while I am on the field. Thank you.

http://wwwnc.cdc.gov/travel/destinations/uganda.htm

Typhoid - $64  one shot

Hepatitis A – 2 shots 6 months apart $38 a piece

Yellow fever – $101 one shot

Malaria prescription – $10 per fill

$251- Total

Phil 1:19-26 says

- For I know that this will turn out for my deliverance through your prayer and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, 20 according to my earnest expectation and hope that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death. 21 For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. 22 But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labor; yet what I shall choose I cannot tell. 23 For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. 24 Nevertheless to remain in the flesh is more needful for you. 25 And being confident of this, I know that I shall remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy of faith, 26 that your rejoicing for me may be more abundant in Jesus Christ by my coming to you again. - NKJV

In Christ,

David Greene

Created to Create

Lately, I have been given a large amount of time to myself. My mother made the comment to me last week that this is the first time in my life that I don't have to do anything. In school I had to do schoolwork. In college I had to do college studies. At work I had to labor, but now though still employed, just unused for the past few weeks (till the boss finds more work for me to do) I have been given 'time'.  I have been led by God to discover the meaning of time, the time that is given to us. I want to be a good steward of my time and the goods God has given to me. We were made in the image of the creator and so we are called to create, as in the beginning when God gave the garden to Adam and said for him to work in it. We are made to work, and now it is left to me to decide where to place my time, whether to glorify God or to glorify self. If I glorify myself, I am given just that, self... and all that evil that comes with it. I don't want this to be my end prize. This unused period of time comes in week long spurts and has happened before at TAG with me. I used to panic and run out and grab all the applications I could and fill them out, but before I could turn them back in, my boss Travis, who is also my older brother, would say he needs me back at work. A month later the process would happen again and now the third time. I just anticipated the same... for the first week at least, now Wednesday of the second week I realize that I have been given this time to learn. To learn what to do with my self.

 On Monday I woke up early and set out to take my time by the horns, and I did. By the end of the day I had made several life changing decisions about a large quantity of the money God had given me and about my future time. Then at the end of the day I looked out at the waning purple and deep black of twilight over the mountains and thought to my self. "At what point did I ask God what he wanted me to do?" Wow, what a powerful mistake I could have made! The feeling sunk into my gut. I realized that when I mess with the amount of money God has given me for this trip, I mess with the time that I leave, and that is God's time! Not mine to mess with. The next day I never left the house; it was spent in dedication of Christ, to peruse and to listen. With that, I spent my time far, far more productively being subject to God than by taking instant initiative, possibly in the wrong direction. The choices I made on Monday I now feel were the right ones, but I have prayed that if they were not that I may still be able to change them. Now if only I can blend the initiative of Monday with the obedience of Tuesday... He is still working on me.

 My time has gone now into The Truth Project, The Federalist Papers, upkeep of a home, time in prayer, and seeking to send out prayer letters. This is Wednesday and I am looking for something to create. Pottery, painting, a short story perhaps. We were created to create and I feel that desire today. There is a deep fulfilling pleasure that comes with being a good steward of what God gives.

Gen 2:2-3

-And on the seventh day God ended His work which He had done, and He rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had done. 

Gen 2:15-16 

- Then the Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to tend and keep it. 

 NKJV

Soli Deo Gloria

In Christ, David Greene