Malaria

Four to six weeks before we leave for Zambia we will need to visit a travel doctor for a consultation and some immunizations. (see post titled - excitement or fear building) One of the medications we will receive will be to combat malaria. Malaria is an illness spread by mosquitoes - and it is preventable and treatable. When we went to Haiti it was suggested that we take malaria medication. We chose not to and did not have a problem. However, with going to Zambia malaria medication is not simply suggested, it is strongly advised.

Two thousand children die every day from malaria - 75% of them are African children under the age of five. The two African countries hardest hit by malaria are Mozambique and, you guessed it, Zambia. So why do so many children die from malaria? Simply put, they are poor. And although there is medication available, without money to buy it it doesn't do any good.

Next time you buy medicine, pay a doctor's bill or swat a mosquito, instead of complaining, thank God and pray for the Zambian families who are burying their children because of a mosquito bite.

Got 'em!!

They finally came!! The United States of America passports for Jubilee and Jeremiah arrived in the mail. Please thank God with us! For those of you who have been following the progress of denial after denial with us, you know what a wonderful thing this is. And for those of you who don't know, read past posts to find out. And then... Praise God with us!!

In Every Language

A smile is a smile in every language. Hope and hopelessness can be seen on the faces of people all over the world. No matter what language a person speaks, joy can be conveyed - as well as sorrow, love - as well as hate. As we make our way to Zambia we will have flight layovers in other countries -possibly South Africa or France, Germany or Spain, England or Egypt and although we might not be able to speak the language we can still show the love of Christ to all we come in contact with. English is the national language of Zambia, however, we have been told that many people in the rural area were we will be working speak Nyanja. Here are a couple of phrases to learn along with us.

Mauka bwanji -- Good morning - (sounds like mocha)

Zikomo kwambili -- Thank you very much

Zina langa ndine _____ -- My name is (fill in the blank)

And remember... A smile is a smile in every language.

Zinnias

With spring only three days away, my mind races ahead to summer when our bed of zinnias will be in bloom. Freshly cut yellow, red, orange and pink flowers will once again decorate my table. The brilliant colors and extended growing season make zinnias a favorite addition to our landscaping.
Several years ago my oldest daughter, Hayley Ann, started our annual zinnia planting. We were at our local nursery looking at shrubs, flowers and seeds trying to decide what would look good and be easy for our non-green-thumbs to grow. She saw a package of zinnia seeds and thought they looked pretty. For $1.89 I decided we might as well try them. To our amazement they grew. No, not grew, flourished. And when we clipped them and put them in vases they lasted longer than any other cut flowers we had tried. Thus, every spring we buy packages and packages of zinnia seeds.
Looking at the calendar I pencil a day next week for Hayley Ann and I to make our trek to the nursery. As she gets older mother/daughter days get more important and a tad harder to plan. A tad harder? Who am I kidding? It is downright tough to find a day to set aside. She is seventeen now and has her own activities while I have schedules for three other children and a husband to work around. But it looks like next Thursday afternoon, after her archeology class, will work perfectly.
With a smile on my face and zinnias on my mind I absentmindedly turn the burner on to heat up my kettle of water and reach into the cupboard for some tea. I glance out the kitchen window and spy the raised beds where we will plant the seeds. Immediately, I send up a ‘thank you prayer’ as I realize I do not need to get the area ready. The dirt has been fertilized thanks to our rabbits and it has been dug up thanks to our chickens. The beds are all ready for us to plant. I just love animals – especially when they are so helpful and remove a chore from my list.
Then it hits me. As I am staring out at the dirt, the conversation I had with Hayley Ann about the need to put others first and to follow God’s plan no matter what we want to do replays in my mind. We were discussing the fact that there is no other way to live a life pleasing to God than to put our own selfish desires to death and live in Christ – obeying God’s will for our lives. We talked about the confusion we feel when God desires something of us that is different than what we want. And the pain, real pain that is involved with dieing to self, opening our hands and giving to God whatever it is we wanted. We ended the conversation by talking about the great joy, satisfaction and peace we receive after going through the pain and how that joy is incredibly fuller than anything we could have imagined.
So it is with the zinnia seed. The seed is a seed. How profound, I know. But the seed must give itself up – be buried in dirt away from the light of the sun and be willing to not be a seed anymore. It is this willingness that allows the seed to grow into an amazingly brilliant flower. Can you imagine if the seed chose to be selfish and not give itself up? It would simply stay a seed and the beauty it was created to bring would be forever lost.
Oh, how true that is for us, as well! We face choices everyday that pit our own selfish desires against God’s will. If we choose our way we might be happy for a moment but that fleeting feeling will give way to disappointment and an unfulfilled life. However, if we make the choice to follow God, being willing to let go of our wants, we will bloom into a person overflowing with joy and contentment and the beauty of a life bringing glory to God will be vibrant. As we live out our purpose with passion we will be completely fulfilled regardless of what we gave up.
Hearing the whistle on my tea kettle I thank God again. This time for giving me such a powerful tool to help teach my younger children about unselfishness – zinnias.
The next time you see a zinnia remember the importance of dieing to self and tell God you are willing to give your desires over to Him. As the seed pushes its way through the dirt into the light, push your way through the pain into the joy. Happy Blooming!

The Plague

The rains in Zambia have brought more than flooding - the rains have brought the plague. Zambia is now in the midst of a true cholera outbreak. News reports are claiming that there are 2000 confirmed cases and hundreds dead. And it is no surprise that the poor are suffering the worst. Please pray for the people of Zambia and for us as we continue to prepare to go.

Rain

During the rainy season in Zambia it rains - no, I mean it really rains. We recently received word that Action International missionary Tim Hilty and his family need prayer. A few weeks ago the rains overflowed the open sewers and completely flooded their home. It was so flooded with water and yuck that a government official nailed a letter on the door condemning the home. They had to move out quickly in the middle of the flood. Please pray for God's peace and strength to be upon them. And that the adjustment to a new home will be smooth for them and their children.

Remembering Tracy

In Loving Memory of

Tracy Lynn Stout

March 21, 1968 - March 15, 2010

I would like to spend a moment and take a break from our mission trip updates in order to celebrate the life of our cousin, Tracy. Tracy died suddenly a week before her 42nd birthday and the shock of her passing is still with me. It is like the wind was knocked out of my lungs and I have yet to be able to take a breath.

Tracy was princess, a child of the King. God knit her together with His own hands. She looked just how He wanted her to - she was a masterpiece created by the Master. With all of her quirks and problems she was a beautiful and valuable life. And she should not - can not - be erased.

As a very young girl Tracy thought the color of her hair was pinkle. Her Uncle Rich, my dad, told her it was and so she went around saying, "My name is Tracy. I am two years old. My eyes are blue. My hair is pinkle." It was actually blonde.

She also collected horses. I remember being in her upstairs bedroom and looking at he collection. When Hayley was young she, too, liked horses and Tracy picked out a couple from her own collection to add to Hayley's.

When Tracy grew up she had a great love for children. She was always the first one to clean up a baby's spit up, change a diaper, wipe a nose or do any of the not so fun child care jobs. When children were around she could be found sitting on the floor playing with them, looking at books with them or getting them a drink of water. Sher also enjoyed working with them. And she had a gift for working with children who are, how do I say, hard to handle or hard to love. She worked with children with emotional issues and physical disabilities. Tracy had found a place where she belonged, made a difference and where she was needed. Those children needed her. She gave attention to children who are usually written off and either ignored or simply endured. But to Tracy they were little lives who were just as important as any other.

When talking to my children about what they remember they all said they remember how Tracy was always willing to play with them - how she took the time to make them feel special - even in a house full of adults.

We also remember her fingernails. I know, that is an odd thing to remember but her nails were long and manicured. And colorful. One year she gave me some polish from Mary Kay that was a scrumptious shade of brown with a bit of sparkle. Beautiful!

This past Christmas came and went without us getting together. We had planned on a big spring get-together - but that will never be. How odd it still seems. I guess the old saying - don't put off 'til tomorrow what you can do today - applies to more than just chores. Our lives are so short. Here today gone tomorrow. We are here but for a moment. May we truly make the most of every opportunity - to love God - to love others - to leave a legacy that will last all of eternity.

Tracy's life was important and I will not let her be erased. When I think of her I will remember that everyone - no matter their abilities or looks or anything - is valuable to God and so they should be valuable to me. Tracy will be missed.

Quick Updates...

Here are a couple of quick updates on trip details:

A couple of members of the team have decided not to continue. They would have been great assets to the team dynamic and will be missed.

Rob is researching evacuation insurance. In addition to needing regular health insurance we all need to have a policy for evacuation insurance - hopefully we won't need it, though!

Our next team meeting is Monday, April 19.

Last month 18 year old Joash Simalugwe of Kaduku Village, Zambia, was killed when a hippo hit the canoe he and his dad were in while fishing on Lake Kariba. It was only a couple of months ago that his younger sister was killed by a crocodile on the same lake. The people of Kaduku need to fish on the lake for food and money and they have appealed to the Zambian government for help in wildlife management. However, no help is coming. And some have gone so far as to declare this problem to be because of witchcraft. Please pray for the Simalugwe family and the people of Kaduku Village.