For those who know me and who may be interested in our latest adventure, I offer the following summary. My church, feeling the call to take Christ's love to "the least, the last, and the lost," has recently "adopted" an almost entirely unreached people group -- the Wodaabe Fulani of Niger, Africa. Although others from our church have spent considerable time in Niger, at present our long-term missionaries include Tom & Tracy Rickstrew, Chris Panza, Erica Brim, Caitlin Fitzsimmons, Allison Hall, Jon Willliamson and Steve Patterson. Pioneer missionaries Jeff & Els Woodke are home from Niger on furlough in Arcata this year. Jeff, along with Adam Dick, also went on this trip, preceding our foursome by several days. For us, this was primarily a short pastoral visit by our church's pastors. Our team consisted of my husband Clay and me, along with Norm and Sandra Ball. With the exception of Clay, who has been twice, this was our first trip to Niger.

AFRICAN ADVENTURE

January 8-18, 2003

Thursday, January 9Erica and a missionary couple with EBM (Evangelical Baptist Mission, an independent mission agency) met us at the airport in Niamey (Niger's capital). The couple, Pete and Sharon Wing, took great care of us. We spent the night at the EBM mission compound and were taken to a surprisingly nice Chinese restaurant. I wouldn't eat the lettuce for fear that it might have been rinsed in water that would make me sick. The food I did eat was excellent. The Wings have been in Niamey for eight years. They are unhappy with their mission-sending agency and may be looking for a change. They expressed their longing for a church back home like ours that really takes care of its missionaries. In fact, I heard that many missionaries in Niger have similar sentiments. It seems our church could have a significant ministry in educating churches in a better way to do missions. Our method has a drawback, though. We are only one church and spread thin. We'd love to adopt the Wings and will pray for a way to do it. It would be a shame for Niger to lose a dedicated and experienced couple like them.

Despite trying to be careful about the water, I got it in my mouth in the shower. I don't know what that means. Also, I got a mosquito bite before I took the Malaria medication. Some trust in the Lord is required here.

Friday, January 10We got up early to get back to the airport where an SIM pilot and plane picked us up. Erica flew with us on a 6-seat bush plane. Clay got to ride with the pilot in the cockpit area. Perhaps his fear of small planes has been healed. He seemed to enjoy himself, especially since there was no wind. Flying over the ever-expanding Sahara Desert and on into the Sahel was quite an experience. What could be more appropriate than listening to M. W. Smith's Worship CD, crying with him, "Let it rain... open the floodgates of heaven." On one significant level, the land cries for rain. On the other, the land cries for the glory of God to be revealed in this land.

Prayer: "Lord, may we carry in our hearts enough of your grace to make a difference here. May the spiritual landscape of Niger change because we set foot here. Amen!"

Landed at a little airport in Tahoua and were met by Tracy. She loaded us up in one of the team's vehicles, and we headed out for Abalak, about an hour or more drive on a paved but unlined road that passed many small villages of adobe and grass huts. Tracy has learned how to drive the African way, laying on the horn at animals (cattle, goats, donkeys, camels) or people that might cross the road.

We got to Abalak and drove into our team's compound. What a joy it was to be greeted by Tom, Jon, Allison, and Steve. They've got a pretty nice place, and the Fords and Balls get to stay in a separate building. The Balls are electing to sleep under a mosquito net on a bed on the patio. Fun!

Saturday, January 11The Fords, Balls, Allison, Jeff, and Donnie (a YWAM missionary who works with our team) caravanned out to the bush to a settlement called Jadri. Once we got off the main road, it was a wild ride over the desert, through the sand and dry river beds. Jeff and Chris have it down, knowing how to drive so as not to get stuck in the sand. Once I turned around to see if the car behind us had gotten stuck, and just then Jeff hit a bad bump, and I wrenched my neck. God is faithful, however, and didn't allow it to get damaged.

Once we got to the settlement in Jadri, we met Caitlin and Chris there, along with Wodaabe folk. Our first glimpse of Caitlin was a spiritual experience. Dressed in Wodaabe garb, she stood up from kneading millet in a kettle over an open campfire. Her hand was covered in the batter when she greeted us. The message was not lost on us that as Jesus incarnated God so we could relate to God, she was incarnating the Gospel to these people in a way to which they could relate.

Caitlin fixed us a really good meal of cornmeal and sauce, our first experience of eating out of a common pot.

Meeting the Wodaabe (Fulani) people was a spiritual experience. These are the people for whom we've prayed and invested so much to reach. Each one greeted us with their Fulfulde "Foma" and heartfelt handshakes, children included. "Foma" was about all I could say since I'm very slow at languages. Also, I learned "Barkity," their word for "Thankyou."

I learned that Caitlin has been conducting a baptism class with three Wodaabe teenage girls. What could be more exciting!

I see no wild animals here except African crows with their white breasts. I've seen innumerable goats, plenty of donkeys, some camels, also some cattle and strange insects. It seems that Niger has one kind of dog. They look like greyhounds, and I've heard that some of them can run up to 50-miles per hour. One poor dog chased our vehicle through the desert at high speed, barking all the way. I don't know how he kept going when he breathed a cloud of dust for about a mile before giving up. Tom and Tracy have one of these dogs, affectionately named Adelaide -- Addie for short. Addie's only about 5 months old and lots of fun.

Going to the "bathroom" in the bush behind bushes was a most memorable experience. Caitlin led Sandra and me to "the forest", a thicker group of acacia trees. She told us what to do out there. You have to walk quite a distance to find privacy during the day, but you can stay closer to camp at night. Clay put up a jovial protest when the men went together. In American culture, going to the bathroom is often a social thing with women and solitary for men. In Niger, it's the opposite. The men all take off together to do their business.

The men and women separated after dark, sitting around their respective campfires. The women and children were pleasant, and the women laughed heartily at their children's entertaining antics. Although we couldn't speak their language, we enjoyed being with them and doting over the children. They had their own games, just as American children do.

About five young girls between ages 8 and 13 sang a Christian song for us and did a drum routine that reminded me very much of the Native Americans who gather around a drum and beat on it. The girls sat around a makeshift drum which they made by putting water in a kettle and placing an upside down smaller bowl in it and then beating it with metal spoons. It makes a very unusual sound.

Clay and I elected not to sleep in Caitlin's grass hut due to our allergies. We slept in the truck, although I wasn't happy about it. It wasn't comfortable, and I really wanted to be under the stars or in the hut.

Sunday, January 12We had a church service with the Wodaabe. Men and women sit separately. Jeff preached, and various Wodaabe offered prayers. It's exciting to know there are believers here in Jadri. Also, we had an unusual time of communion. No bread, grape juice, or wine. Instead, we used peanuts and water, drinking from a common bowl.

I was amazed that people can live in a miserable place like this and even love it. I guess it's true that "there is no place like home" -- even here. We are here during a cooler season so don't feel the brunt of the elements. Later, it will be 120 degrees and humid. The ground is especially parched this year. There has been a drought condition. We prayed for rain when back in Arcata, but it came late and washed away what little was here for food and grazing. How the animals survive, I don't know.

Since the 1960's the Sahelian region has been afflicted by prolonged periods of drought. This year is far worse. The ground is so dry that nothing is growing but those acacia trees, and they too are dry. Despite their incredible thorniness, goats and camels still manage to nibble a living off the trees. The ground also has thorns, and Clay stepped on one, causing his foot to swell. I found myself nearly cursing the ground for being so uninhabitable. Little children have to run through thorns and goat and donkey droppings as a way of life, covered with dust and grit. Yet, this is their life, and they don't seem to mind it. I was told that their feet are so tough that they can't feel the thorns. That amazes me since some thorns are very long. The sharp spines on the acacia trees can be four inches long . It made me wince when I thought of Christ's crown of thorns. I would think that if we tried to take some of these in our carry-on luggage, they'd be confiscated as possible weapons. In any case, this seems like the ground that God cursed after Adam's fall. Yet God loves these beautiful people, and, I know longs to bless them ... and their land. "Lord, what is the answer?"

Norm, on the other hand, saw the unique beauty of the place. I felt he had to stretch hard, but God bless him for his "eyes to see." Perhaps I'm just too immature and negative to see God's handiwork here. I liked the night, though. The stars are brilliant, and you can see them from one distant horizon to the other.

I felt pretty powerless and definitely felt more need for God's anointing on my life. Nevertheless, I prayed for the people. Also, remembering how Jesus blessed the little children, I laid hands on the children and freely prayed blessings over their little lives. Some people had physical needs, and I wish I'd seen some instant healing. God knows what these prayers accomplished, and I leave it in His hands.

Despite these people's poverty, they are warm and even happy people. One woman came up to me and said in Fulfulde (their language), "I'm glad you are so happy; I'm happy, too."

We never saw children quarreling, nor adults for that matter. When I brought out my CD player and headphones, a dozen children flocked around me to listen. Though they crowded in on each other, they didn't push or get ugly. They politely awaited their turns.

Chris said it's hard for the team this year to communicate with the Wodaabe since all they want to talk about is how they are going to get through this period. Survival is a big issue in this time of drought. Our team has to struggle with the right balance in their charitableness. If they give too much, they might foster dependency. This is something we absolutely do not want to do to these people. During this desperate time, however, they do need some assistance.

We took a little trek out to the well and watched the process of drawing water from it. They had a large plastic bag that they used a team of donkeys to draw up. A woman with a baby strapped to her back drove the team hundreds of feet out from the well while the men guided the ropes, making sure they didn't get tangled. It was a huge project, and it took three men to take each load of water to the troughs where children could bathe and animals drink.

I wondered why the ropes had to be so long. Then I learned the well was 300 feet deep! Not only that, but it had all been dug by hand! The scripture where Isaac's servants kept having to move away to dig new wells because Philistines kept squabbling over land rights, took on new meaning. What a relief it must have been when Isacc could finally dig a well uncontested. He called it Rehoboth, meaning "Room," saying, "Now the Lord has given us room and we will flourish in the land" (Genesis 26:22). May the Wodaabe flourish in their land, too!

Head coverings are such a hassle. When I sweat a little, I itch. My itchy scalp coupled with wearing the head covering makes it unpleasant. Back in Abalak, inside the compound, we need not wear them. Clay had to wear his turban, too. He liked that as much as I liked my head covering. He could never seem to wrap it right and many times provided great comic relief as he fiddled with it. Jon, on the other hand, has the process down to an art. His looks perfect.

We didn't get to see many of the people because they had taken their animals south, even into Nigeria, in search of grass. Mostly women and children, along with some of the men, stayed behind so that the children could stay in school. The school was begun by Jeff. Some children cannot go to school since they are needed to work with the animals. That many can go, however, for the first time in history, is a huge breakthrough.

We loaded up and headed back to Abalak. I don't know about Norm and Sandra, but Clay and I were grateful not to spend another night in the bush. Whew!

Our Niger team is really a team. They do amazingly well together. Years ago, Clay and I lived in community with other Christians and know it's challenges. Such a cooperative effort doesn't just happen. I know our team has had to work hard at it.

This is a nice compound in Abalak. There's no hot water, but I loved the cool shower. It was wonderful! Also, a real toilet! It's great to have real chairs, too. Sitting on mats is a torment to someone like me. There's no e-mail, either. I do hear we've got a phone of sorts. Evidently, calls go through a switchboard in town, and then the operator rings #4 -- our compound?s phone number! I haven't heard it ring, though.

Tracy came over with Allison and put up a mosquito net over our bed. I was grateful for that and excited. Even this is a new experience for me.

We all went to a feast at a Christian man's house -- Alkassum -- tonight. He is a Tuareg and the pastor of a small church of about five Christian men and their families here in Abalak. These men (Tuaregs and one Fulani) gave testimonies, many of which were powerful. Alkassum came to the Lord through a dream and through missionaries who taught him Bible stories. He also works at our missionary compound. He is paid to do grounds keeping, laundry, etc. The men asked for prayer for protection in what they termed a dangerous place. They said that though they have no real converts, the entire Muslim community knows they are Christians. They show the Jesus film to friends and neighbors, a few at a time, on a TV set, and share their testimonies. I pray for the Holy Spirit's power for them. We gathered around these five men, laid hands on them and had an extended time of prayer for them. There was no singing, and it seems this is a largely missing dimension in the fellowship we have experienced thus far.

For dinner, we sat in the dark around three common platters. We each had our own wooden spoon. I knew we were eating goat, and I feared I was chewing on intestines. How grateful I was when someone turned on a flashlight, and I saw I was eating macaroni along with the goat meat!

It is nice that our missionaries have some local Christian friends in Abalak. Their primary focus, however, is to reach the Wodaabe Fulani people, not the Tuaregs. Therefore, they travel away from the city out into the bush frequently to be with the Wodaabe. There are now three locations, two of which now have a good group of believers. Our team members now have their own grass huts among them and most have their own donkeys. Chris even has his own camel. This is so they can go with the Wodaabe when they go. They are nomadic people but now because of the wells that Jeff had built and the schools, they are becoming more fixed, except when they must go for the sake of their animals. Generally, our team members stay in the bush anywhere between a few days to a week at a time. It's expensive driving the vehicles back and forth to these locations. Gas in this country is somewhere around $4.00/gallon.

It was a good evening here in Abalak, but what was that ranting I heard when I went to bed? Every night for about 3 or 4 hours, a Muslim man with a loud speaker preaches in town a few streets away. Our missionaries say he's selling traditional medicine that's all wrapped up in Muslim beliefs. How can our people live with this? I suppose after a while they can filter it out. Sure bothers me, though. I'm just glad I can't understand what he's saying -- just "Allah" this and that. If I had any authority in town, I'd unplug him.

Monday, January 13 I heard about the other side of the Wodaabe's gentle personalities. We were told by our missionaries that the men, especially, don't trust each other and often have deep suspicions of each other's motives, even brothers. There is a lot to do in developing Christian character in these people. It's so hard when they are illiterate and unable to read the Bible. Also, they are largely polygamous. That our team is making significant inroads into their culture amazes me. How exciting that our team actively does literacy work with them. Soon some will be reading Bible stories to others.

This morning I woke up to an incredible cacophony at about 5AM that only grew louder. The Muslim crying out his wake-up prayers, roosters crowing, crows with the weirdest of caws, goats and sheep baaing, and later, what seemed like hundreds of voices. I didn't hear one horn. It is noisy, and I'm beginning to see why the Wodaabe prefer staying in the peaceful bush.

Our missionaries don't feel lonely as they seem to have a steady stream of visitors. The Mankas last month and now us. The Panzas will be here in a few weeks, although they are coming for a longer time -- he for two months and she for one -- to work with Wycliff's SIL school.

Today Alkassum and Erica took the four of us to the market to find some fabric for garments. We each chose something, although I wasn't very happy with what I got. Then we took our fabric to a tailor who measured us. I was amazed when he said he could have our clothing ready within a couple of days.

We had a worship time with our team out on their patio at their compound that Adam led. We began with "Come, Now Is the Time to Worship." We hadn't gotten through two lines when I couldn't help welling up with emotion. Tears streamed down my face. I was overcome with the realization that this isn't just a missionary team in Africa, this IS Arcata First Baptist Church. I looked around at our team, singing the same songs as back home, and I felt like I was home. This extension of our church on the other side of the world are our people, singing our songs, eager to hear about what's going on with our church's life and ministry back home. We went on to sing "You have redeemed my soul," along with other AFBC favorites. What a blessed experience!

We shared some of our thoughts with the team. After sitting in the African bush and staring at the brilliant stars, I felt led to share about stars, reading 2 Cor 3:17-18, 4:1-7, Eph 5:8-10, and Daniel 12:3. The Niger teammates are stars shining in the darkness, reflecting God's glory. Next, Norm and Sandra gave their encouraging thoughts. Finally, Clay shared with the team our church's theme for the year: "We're a Symphony in 2003." Wanting the team to participate in our church's experience back home, he shared the main points of the new year's sermon he preached . How exciting to recognize that our "symphony" spans the globe! He also challenged them, "Don't just let what you are doing inspire others; let it inspire you. As the years go by let that inspiration enable you to always say 'Yes' to God."

It was a wonderful time -- that is, until they informed us we would be taking another trip to the bush the next day. Clay and I glanced at each other painfully. Somehow we had hoped the hard part was behind us!

Tuesday, January 14I'm not feeling all that well. We headed out to the bush, this time to Tagalaf where our team has another work. There are even more Wodaabe Christians here, although many are away with their animals.

Erica and Allison spend a lot of time here, as did Lindsey before she went home last month. We were told that the Wodaabe here are excited about our arrival. Why? So they can hear news of Lindsey! I heard it was hard on the women, in particular, when Lindsey left as relationships are everything to them. Most of what Wodaabe spend their time doing is relating to one another.

We arrived safely, although my neck took a beating. Clay taught the Wodaabe children a counting game that we play at home. They count in French, something they could not do had they not learned it in school -- a school that our missionaries began. It's important for the children to learn French if they ever want to escape their complete marginalization. That they picked up this game as quickly as any American children shows that they really are smart kids. They had a lot of fun playing it, too. Allison did a good job of translating for Clay.

The wind started kicking up, causing sand to blow across the desert. We are inside our straw hut. Every time you bump a part of it, sand flies all over you. Also, sometimes sand blows through the hut. It is large, and currently thirty-five people, mostly children, are here comfortably with room for many more.

The Woodabe killed and cooked a goat for us for lunch. The animals are skinny, so most offer very lean meat. We ate roasted goat with macaroni. Macaroni seems like a staple here. After eating this meal, our own cook who came with us, brought us his own macaroni meal. It was pretty greasy, and though I choked it down, I wasn't happy about eating a second meal when not feeling well.

Many of the children are beautiful here, adults too. In our country, they could be super-models.

We walked out to an ancient burial site about a half-mile away from camp. I was extremely interested in this after hearing that Germans have gotten wind of it and want to build a fence around it and excavate. I'm jealous. I would love to be involved in the dig. I'm really quite interested in archaeology. We saw three graves that could be thousands of years old. Who knows? The rocks are black. Jeff described what that meant. I didn't understand the process. It just means they've been there for a very long time.

For one of the Wodaabe who went with us to the burial site, it was quite a different experience. I could see he was quite shaken. Walking over such a site is a "taboo" to his people. In fact, the Wodaabe are called "the people of the taboo." Taboos are laced throughout their culture resulting in a lot of fear. One of the Wodaabe women was shocked when she heard me call Clay by his name. Calling a husband by his first name is one of their many taboos.

I thought Africans only used spears. I was told, however, that there are a lot of arrow heads here. I couldn't find any, though. I had also heard there was an abundance of petrified rock. That excited me. This turned out to be an understatement. It was everywhere, and I got a few rocks to take home. I got one picture of me sitting on a large petrified tree trunk. Obviously, at one time this was a fertile land that included a real forest devoid of these horrid acacia plants.

Well, I got the big "D." Sick as a dog. Clay and the others went over to the house of Malum, the tribe's leader. I didn't feel good so stayed on my cot in the hut. I saw Norm riding a camel, a big experience but felt too sick to go over. At dinner time, the thought of food made me ill. I let everyone else eat, but I hated the very smell.

After dark I felt well enough to join the others at Malum's for a worship service which Jeff led. Clay and Norm, the special guests, got the two chairs. Such an interesting custom: The men and women separate, the men sitting together in a cluster with the women ten feet away in their own cluster with the children, trying hard to listen. Jeff spoke loud enough for us all to hear, except when the children playing across the grounds got noisy or the dog started yapping. His message was about the parable of the talents, and he urged the men and also the women to get out and share their blessings with other Wodaabe who didn't know Christ. Clay and Norm also got to preach a bit with a translator.

The highlight of the evening -- and perhaps of the entire trip -- was the prayer time that followed. Jeff took prayer requests from the men and then from the women. Just like in the American church, the women had far more interest in prayer. In fact, every woman expressed a request. After this, the men of our team prayed for the men, and the women of our team prayed for the women. We began with Sandra, Erica, Allison, and me praying as a team for one woman at a time. That proved to be taking forever, so we broke into two teams. Allison and I prayed in English for the women. I figured it's a prayer to God so why worry about translating. Allison translated the prayer request, though. So many asked "for strength." Also, some had stomach problems, eye problems, sick children, etc. When the men were finished praying for the men, they came over and helped us pray for the rest of the women.

Their various ailments are likely easily treatable with a little medication, but Jeff told me that the men will use their money for tea and sugar before they'll get medication for their families. Children must be very ill before being taken to a doctor, and these people have no concept of preventative medicine. In fact, they live every aspect of their lives for today. They don't have a concept of preparing for the future. This is a big challenge for our team members, all who have developed one-year, five-year, and even ten-year plans!

They love tea around here, and I hear that throughout Niger, everyone's addicted to caffeine. The tea here is very strong. They drink it in shot glasses, round after round. Caitlin said that when she first got here, she thought she had to accept whatever was put before her without refusing. She said she and several others of the team drank 16 rounds of tea one night. Not only did they get sick, but they couldn't sleep at all!

I decided that Clay can sleep in the vehicle but that I didn't come to Africa to sleep in one. I either wanted to sleep under the stars or in the hut. I feared the hut because of the potential for serious asthma. But I tested it out today by sitting in it and resting in it and had no breathing problems. So here I am, sleeping on a cot in the hut. I love it! My cot is right beneath a big hole in the ceiling, and I've got a direct view of the moon. What a way to fall asleep!

Wednesday, January 15

Well, I knew I was sick. What a night! I got up four times with diarrhea. What a miserable thing to have this kind of a problem in the bush! (Oh, how I LOVE toilets!). Despite this, I enjoyed some humor. I was coming in from one of my trips to a bush at about 4AM, and I saw that Clay had the flashlight on in the vehicle. I thought, "Oh, good! I can get some sympathy from him." When I tapped on the glass, he opened the door and was going through his own ordeal. Now, he had diarrhea. I gave him some toilet paper so he could go out and find a bush. The moon had dipped behind the horizon, so it was pretty dark out there. I decided I'd better stay and wait for him. So I watched his flashlight out there for a while.

Suddenly, I saw Clay's light travel across the desert, first in one direction and then back the other way. Obviously, he was on the move, aimlessly wandering around out there. I just stared a while. Then, I heard in the distance: "Hellooooo!" I called, "I'm here." I went out part way to meet him. He had gotten lost and disoriented and couldn't find his way back. This was a clear example of our personality differences. Had I gotten lost, I probably would have sat down, cried, and waited til dawn to find my way back to camp. Clay, however, wanted someone to hear him -- anyone. It didn't matter if it was a Woodabe, a member of the team, or me, just so someone rescued him.

About this time, Sandra came out of the hut, needing to go out to a bush, too. I told her that Clay had gotten lost so she'd better be careful. Soon, we watched her flashlight traveling one way and then another. She was lost, too! Clay kept flashing at her, but for some reason she couldn't find her way back. Once we got her straightened out, we all had a good laugh. As it turned out, everyone in the hut was awake by this time, but no one told us.

Fortunately, Sandra had some diarrhea pills, and this took care of my problem. The next day Allison explained that it was bad to take these pills when you need to get the bacteria out. Really? As if I cared! I just wanted to get clogged up so I didn't need to keep finding bushes in the bush!

Well, all in all, my bush experience was colored by my sickness. I loved the people, enjoyed sleeping in a grass hut, and had fun bouncing around the desert in a 4-wheel drive. On the way home to Abalak, however, Donnie was driving, and he hit a ditch hard. I had no seat belt and flew into the ceiling. I heard my neck pop. I suppose I could have broken it, but again God's grace was sufficient, and I suffered no unusual pain.

By the time we left the bush, the wind picked up considerably. On the way home, we got into some pretty heavy dust., and I asked Jeff if this was a dust storm. "Not yet," he replied. He then said that sometimes the dust gets so bad that you can't see in front of your hood. Driving under these conditions is treacherous, kind of like driving in thick fog. Soon the dust got worse, and at times it was just as Jeff described -- we could barely see the road. He said, "OK, this is a dust storm." Donnie even went off the road once. Pretty exciting stuff!!

Chris said they had a big adventure today, too. They nearly had a head-on collision with the Prince of Saudi Arabia! He came to Niger hunting, and the car pulled out of the caravan into Chris' lane. Can't imagine what they would have been hunting. I haven't seen anything resembling a wild animal. (Thank you, Jesus!).

I like staying in Abalak. I believe I could live there but not in the bush. It's too rough, and I don't like the food. In fact, it may be a month or longer before I can eat pasta again. I did say I'd go back if they'd build an outhouse for me. If they can build a well, why not an outhouse?

The tailor delivered our new garments. I don't particularly like the fabric I chose, but he did a great job.

I had a wonderful private conversation with Alkassum this afternoon. He expressed to me his desire to have his children come study in the U.S. someday. He's a good dad, and I understand his desire. He speaks English and knows scripture reasonably well but is still trying to learn to read. He wants better for his children. Concerning his church, I shared with him the scripture about Cornelius. He knew the story, but I applied it to his situation. Through an angelic visitation, Cornelius was directed to seek Peter out. I expressed that there might be many Cornelius-type people out there in the Muslim community who are trying their best to please God, who pray, and give alms, etc. I told Alkassum I'd pray that God would begin to direct them to seek him out in the same way He directed Cornelius to seek Peter out. He was very grateful, and I laid hands on him and prayed for him. I'm determined to go home and keep praying for this. God has filled my heart with love for this wonderful Christian brother.

Thursday, January 16

Tom and Tracy took Adam out to see their work in a place called Delafata. There are no Christians there yet, but they are making progress. Adam saw a scorpion on his bed mat. I hear there are cobras and puff adders in Niger. God is good. I haven't bumped into anything resembling a snake or scorpion. Lots of big lizards, but they don't bother me.

Tom and Tracy gave us a tour of their home next to the compound here. They've worked hard on it, and it's truly lovely-- an oasis in the desert, for sure.

I'm pleased that my intestinal problem seems so much better. Also, the accompanying nausea I felt has passed. I took a 3-hour nap yesterday afternoon when we got home and also slept all night. I feel so much better.

Jeff, Chris, and Donnie had said they wanted to leave at 6:30AM to drive the 7-8 hours to Niamey. To my amazement, they pulled out at 6:30 on the dot. All three of these men are extremely organized. When we go on road trips, Clay can't ever get me to leave on time. We're usually a few hours behind schedule.

For us, this is a day to stick close to home and go to the market. Market day is once a week. It is not just a local thing, but merchants travel from outside the area to come and sell their products. It's kind of like a giant flea market but also includes a large animal market.

I feel sorry for the little donkeys. They work so hard, and I doubt anyone treats them like pets. They are here to work -- beasts of burden -- and that's it. We wore our new garments to the flea market. I bought another top and a few odds and ends souvenirs. It was fun milling around and seeing all the people and animals. We were told it was smaller than usual because of this bad year. It seemed huge to me. Norm creates a sensation with his digital camera wherever he goes. Young and old love to have their picture taken and then to see themselves in the viewer.

Our team has served us some exceptional meals. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to fully enjoy them. Not wanting to cause my problem to flare up, I'm eating small portions. It just about killed me to eat one tiny tostada for dinner. The tortilla was homemade, as were the beans, the salsa, and everything else. It's got to be the best I've ever tasted in my life! Cooking here is a major undertaking. Produce is soaked in a bleach solution, and all dishes are made from scratch. Are we ever spoiled in the U.S.!

Every time we turn around, someone's trying to sell us something here. This becomes quite an irritation. I was thrilled today, though, when a man named Ali came with arrowheads. He heard about our interest in them. Norm bought some, and I bought some. They are my most exciting souvenir.

Jon goes to the stand across the street every day and buys fresh milk. He then freezes it in the refrigerator and enjoys it as a slush. In the summer, it gets so hot that the refrigerator can't keep things cool. Jon's enjoying it now, though. He said he just discovered this treat a few weeks ago. The milk doesn't need to be pasteurized when it's fresh, and it's really creamy. Though our missionaries assured me the milk is healthy when it's fresh, I only tasted it once for fear of getting sick. The milk comes in little black plastic bags. This is a sad thing for this area since the entire landscape is littered with little black bags, even in the trees. They should at least make them clear!

I'm thrilled to see Jon looking so healthy. He got malaria and other infirmities when he first got here, and this kept us on our knees for a while back home.

It's pretty nice not having a TV. Who needs it? Jeff surprised me when I commented that the Wodaabe out in the bush probably know little about world events. He replied that they listen to a lot of radio and probably know more about world events than do most Americans.

Friday, January 17Clay had taken the mosquito net down because he never saw a mosquito, and the net irritated him. Wouldn't you know it? We had a mosquito visit us. We lay there in bed, shining our flashlight at the little nuisance, trying to find him. Once in a while, we caught him in the light but never could get him. Because of this, I slept in my sleeping bag and roasted most of the night. I probably got about 3 hours less sleep because of it. Finally, I gave up and threw the bag off. Though I'd used mosquito repellant, I didn't put it on everywhere. I got bit right on my rear end!

The girls were going to do their weekly 5:30 AM prayer walk around the mosque before the Muslims gathered for their weekly meeting. So Sandra and I got up at 5:15, raring to go. To our disappointment, however, the girls slept in. Wish I had!

A couple of hours later, it was time to start our journey home. We hugged, gave our goodbyes, and took off for the airport at about 7:30AM. It was sad to leave our beloved brothers and sisters, but I was ready to get home. This time Adam joined us. We got to the little airport on time, but our plane was delayed for a number of hours. We had to wait till noon. Of course, this was probably the only plane that would land for days.

The airport attendant directed Clay to a waiting area with plastic chairs. After the man left, Clay opened a door, and lo and behold, there was a room with a large Persian rug, three plush couches, and a photo of Niger's President on the wall. Also, there was a bathroom. Possibly this area was for dignitaries. No one was around to stop us, so we just went in and parked ourselves. Clay, Norm, and Sandra fell asleep, but I went outside to pray and fast. Did I say "fast"? -- I meant "fret." I started worrying when the wind kept getting stronger. I kept watching the large windsock blowing straight sideways. I really didn't want to get stranded in this place.

Finally, I heard the plane coming but couldn't see it at all. Then, I heard him fly away. I thought, "Oh, no! He's abandoned us!" As it turned out, he passed twice and couldn't even see the runway. How he landed without hitting the control tower, I don't know. But he came in on his third try. I nearly jumped out of my skin and cried, "Lord, help!" when I saw the plane landing with one wing tilted sharply. The pilot quickly corrected it. Probably no biggy for a bush pilot!

The dust was strange. I guess the type of dust or sand that comes in a storm depends on the direction of the wind. I heard this was a "microdust" that blows in off the Sahara. It looked like fog. I couldn't feel it at all, and it didn't bother my eyes or lungs. We took off, and it was bumpy at first. Once we got above the sandstorm, however, we were OK. What an experience, though! It looked like we were flying over a gray ocean. I could see the horizon on both sides of the plane with this "ocean" below and sky above. It was not an ocean, though -- just thick dust.

We got into Niamey "International Airport." The dust wasn't so thick there, and from the sky I could see a jetliner sitting on the tarmac. I also spotted a smaller plane in a hangar. That was it! Niger is such a poor country. I heard our jet comes here from Paris twice a week on its way to Burkina Faso.

We landed the bush plane, and the same pilot drove us to the Wing's home. Their paid servant, Tina, a beautiful young woman from Mali, had made a wonderful feast for us. That's one of the few blessings of missionary life here. While Sharon Wing homeschools her children and several others, Tina does the cooking and cleaning. They also have a gardener. Just possibly I could live with that!

We hung out there and watched some Jeopardy and news on a fuzzy military channel. Finally, we left for the airport and flew out at midnight on an Air France jet. The flight attendants shocked us when they came through the cabin spraying some kind of insecticide. Though they assured us it was non-toxic, I could barely breathe. Clay observed that they didn't spray this stuff before leaving Paris for Niger but only when leaving Niger for Paris. No surprise why. There must be many diseases here. Jeff said the government doesn't even bother counting AIDS cases since about 25% of the population is infected.

It was about a 6-hour flight to Paris, and I might have slept an hour. We got there about 6AM and waited in the cold terminal for the next 6 hours. Due to fog there -- real fog -- we took off an hour late. Then it was a 12-hour flight to San Francisco.

One of the most inspiring moments of my trip came when we flew over Iceland. It was stunningly beautiful. Every corner was ice and snow. I could tell the difference because the ice looked bluish. I also saw great ice cliffs along the ocean and thousands of little icebergs in the water. I was so happy to be awake to see this and that there was no cloud cover. I thought of how we'd never survive for twenty minutes in those elements if we crash-landed. Of course, we probably wouldn't have survived a crash-landing anyway!

When we flew over a large cloud cover, I pulled the window shade down and fell asleep for about 4 hours. I'm sorry I missed Greenland and Northern Canada, but I desperately needed that sleep.

When we got to SF, we were late and missed our flight to Arcata. As it turned out, heavy fog in Arcata had caused the cancellation of most flights that day. Clay and I had to wait four hours for the next flight and Norm and Sandra 6 hours. Once onboard, a young man came on the plane with flowers. He got down on his knee and proposed to the flight attendant. Everyone applauded. That was fun. Finally, after some 46 hours of working our way home, we flew into Arcata. Linda Hall and Bob Black were waiting for us. We had heard that many had come earlier to greet us.

After the first two days in Africa, I had felt ready to come home. That's about when I started getting sick and overwhelmed. By the end, however, I was warming up to the lifestyle better. Now, I feel I would be happy to go back again, even later this year, if God called me. Should I go back at some point, I'd like to contribute more. Mostly, rather than ministering to our team or to the Wodaabe, I was adjusting to the realities of being there, myself. Hopefully, the next time, I will be better prepared and have more to offer. Each missionary inspired me deeply. I love and appreciate them all.

One day during a devotional time, Chris challenged us with the thought that we shouldn't just look for college students to enter the mission field. Yes, our church is adjacent to a state university, but the adults in our congregation need to be open to hear the missionary call, too. I think his point is well taken.

Clay and I, however, are not the best candidates for living on the field. Our age and physical limitations are definite factors. This said, we know we must ever keep our lives, ministry, and future surrendered on God's altar.

Clay actually had a harder time than I did this trip. As it turned out, he's the one who had the bronchial difficulties. Also, he got a scratchy throat and possibly reacted to the malaria pills. While the dust gave him trouble, it caused me none. God was very gracious to me. To punctuate His grace toward me on this trip, He let me experience something unusual: I had suffered some foot trouble before I left for Niger and brought thee pair of shoes so that if one gave me trouble, I could try another. I had no trouble whatsover until about an hour after I got home. I guess God wanted me to know that it was all Him, that He gives grace and strength for what He calls us to do, and He gets all glory. I think I'm learning this lesson. I've sure got a WHOLE LOT more to learn, though! What a WONDERFUL God we serve! What an ADVENTURE He provides!

I'll close with words from two favorite hymns:

Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,

Just to take Him at His word,

Just to rest upon His promise,

Just to know 'Thus saith the Lord,"

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!

How I've proved Him o'er and o'er!

Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!

O for grace to trust Him more!

AND

There's a call comes ringing o'er the restless wave, "Send the light! Send the light!"

There are souls to rescue, there are souls to save, Send the light! Send the light!

(*chorus)

We have heard the Macedonian call today, "Send the light! Send the light!"

And a golden offering at the cross we lay, Send the light! Send the light!

(*chorus)

Let us pray that grace may everywhere abound, Send the light! Send the light!

And a Christ-like spirit everywhere be found, Send the light! Send the light!

(*chorus)

Let us not grow weary in the work of love, Send the light! Send the light!

Let us gather jewels for a crown above, Send the light! Send the light!

*chorus:

Send the light, the blessed gospel light; Let it shine from shore to shore!

Send the light, the blessed gospel light; Let it shine from shore to shore!

AMEN AND AMEN, LORD! SEND THE LIGHT!!