Off-roading is a passion for some people. Off-roading for us is the way to get around. In our area of the jungle, the government began a road project about 30 years ago, building a road between two points in the jungle…but never connected it to the outside world. From the end of our road to a road that goes to town is a three-day hike. We live on a road that goes nowhere.

My son Matt got a used Kawasaki Mule (something like a golf cart on steroids), and the Lord enabled him to airlift it into the tribe. Now I’m not sure what the Mule was supposed to do when they designed it, but we use it for every purpose we can find. It hauls fuel drums like a fuel truck. Like a logging truck, it carries timber of every size in lengths up to 14 feet. As cargo hauler, it brings our supplies over the mountain from the airstrip. As a church bus, it carries people to church. Quite often it transports sick or injured people as an ambulance. And sometimes, it serves as a hearse.

A mission worker dubbed the Kawasaki Mule, “Skippy the Bush Kangaroo” for the way it bounces along the road. (There was an Australian TV show of the same name years ago…with a theme song. Yes, we sometimes sing that theme song when we drive down the trail.) We know what it can carry, and we don’t overload it. Call it  “Mule” or call it “Skippy,” the little machine does more things than what it was designed to do.

In all the duties and opportunities that come into your life, can you say the same? If the load seems to be too much, remember Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” The load you are carrying, you don’t carry it alone. Believer, God Himself promised to put no more on you than you can bear (1 Corinthians 10:13). Though the load is heavy, He is there with you. He will never leave you, and He will never forsake you. And He reminds you to come to Him, for there is the place where He can give you rest. You might not have your own theme song, but I’m certain He’ll put a song in your heart.

With that in mind, Skippy, let’s help carry someone else’s burden.

“…where I heard a language that I understood not.” –Psalm 81:5

When we were students at Baptist Bible Translators Institute, we studied dozens of different languages. From Albanian to Zapotec, we listened to, mimicked, wrote, and analyzed their sound patterns, their tones, and their rhythms. Several times, as we were being swamped by learning all the possible stops, fricatives, nasals, and affricates, we were calmly assured by our instructors: “When you get to the field, you only have to learn one language and the sounds associated with that one language.”

So when we moved in among the Kamea a few years ago, our thought was that we would only have to learn Kamea (an unwritten dialect). Then my son announced that he was leaving early on furlough, and that we would be holding the fort until he and his family returned in a year or so. Suddenly, Lena and I realized that now we also needed to learn the trade language, Melanesian Pidgin, to function outside of our tribe.

Since Pidgin is a written language, largely based on English, we thought, “This won’t be too bad. We can use written and audio Pidgin materials and lessons, and we should be proficient in no time at all.” Famous last words.

I developed study cards for both Kamea and Pidgin. When we flew out for supplies, I bought Pidgin story books to supplement our self-taught Pidgin language course. Only a few of our contacts in the jungle speak English, so we were forced to use Pidgin and Kamea to communicate. Then it happened; we were mixing all three languages! There were days where we seemed to be making some progress, and the sentences, childish as they were, really flowed. The next day, we would slaughter the language so badly that people even cocked their heads like a dog hearing a strange sound for the first time.

Communication is so vital to us in our daily lives; but how often we take it for granted when we live among those who speak our native tongue. Find yourself placed among those of a “strange speech,” and you long for the ability to communicate your thoughts clearly and powerfully. For any missionary who has to cross language and culture barriers to perform his ministry, there should be a team of prayer warriors back home holding the ropes for him. Few things feel more isolating than an inability to communicate with or to understand what is being said by those around you.

A missionary friend in Hungary reminded me that, “The Lord GOD hath given me the tongue of the learned, that I should know how to speak a word in season to him that is weary:” (Isaiah 50:4) Of course, that’s easy for him to say; he had already learned to speak Russian before beginning his language studies in Hungary!

The truths of God’s Word are the most important things to be communicated. Pray for those who must learn a new language in order to carry on their ministry. It is hard to tell people about the love of God while their heads are cocked at an angle!

Interruptions are the key to the crucified life. –Jeanne Guyon

Planning. Scheduling. Organizing. These are mainstays of the Western mindset. I must plan, I must schedule, and I must organize. Then I moved to the jungle.

More often than not, our days are unplanned here. Not that we don’t plan, mind you. It’s just that, well, things come up.

Medical missions is part of our outreach ministry. Since everyone in our region knows that our clinic treats everyone for everything, they show up every day. Never mind that clinic days are Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday. The only time they usually have to wait is on Sunday, because we don’t see anyone on that day until after our church services are over.  “Closed except for emergencies” is what we say; and what isn’t an emergency? Malaria, typhoid, knife wounds…all of these cannot wait until business hours.

Today we were supposed to work on language learning. Then two patients needed to be transported over the mountain to the hospital. Then came another. By the time I was back at the mission station, my language helpers were gone. So what did I learn in language today? I guess I spent the majority of the day speaking in the two languages we are learning because our patients and their families don’t speak English. The little boy who walked with me to the village taught me how to say “We (two) are walking to the village,” along with some other words and phrases.

More importantly, I learned (again) that interruptions are the key to the crucified life. My plans are always to be subject to my Master Planner. His wisdom is infinitely higher than mine, and His path is much more worthwhile than mine. I will continue to plan, schedule, and organize; but daily I will lay these “desires” at the Cross of Christ that I may know Him better, and that my life may be more like His. God desires that I be conformed to the image of His Son; and I have noted that in my life, He engineers the conforming.

Let’s start tomorrow’s plans with a “Lord willing, we shall…” and allow Him to interrupt us as He pleases.

Daybreak refuel of P2-TMK by our pilot, Matt Allen

The day started at 4 AM as we got up and packed supplies to head over the mountain to the airstrip. Actually, it had started before that.

Kids at Komako

Take your vaccine!

I’ll take my vaccine!

Whooping cough immunizations

Fast forward 9 hours…Lena had seen 159 patients by herself. 87 cases of whooping cough (active!). 147 total immunizations. Jack spent the whole day translating for us.

Line at the end of the day

And in answer to prayer, the wind died down at around 3:30 pm. Lena and I were prepared to spend the night at Komako. OK, we weren’t, because we didn’t bring a sleeping mat or a blanket…but we had psyched ourselves up to that’s what needed to be done. No worries. Be flexible.

Jack & Esila Naudi

Jack will commissioned by Kotidanga Baptist Church on next Sunday (March 10). He will be the first missionary sent out by the church that Matt planted back in 2004. This national church is going to support him for the equivalent of $75 USD per month. We’re all excited, and we consider it a blessing to have seen the place our teammates are moving to.

Jason, Cherith, & Grace Ottosen

Yeah, it was a crazy day at Komako. But maybe we helped lay a small part in the foundation of the ministry that will follow. Pray for Jason, Jack, and their families as they begin this new venture soon.

Imagine winning part of a debate with an atheist, or at least getting him to concede you had a point.

Matthew Parris, a self-avowed confirmed atheist, returned to Africa after 45 years and found that it just wasn’t the good that the missions and faith-based organizations had done. It was the actual belief in God that had transformed the people. He wrote:

It inspired me, renewing my flagging faith in development charities. But travelling in Malawi refreshed another belief, too: one I’ve been trying to banish all my life, but an observation I’ve been unable to avoid since my African childhood. It confounds my ideological beliefs, stubbornly refuses to fit my world view, and has embarrassed my growing belief that there is no God.

Now a confirmed atheist, I’ve become convinced of the enormous contribution that Christian evangelism makes in Africa: sharply distinct from the work of secular NGOs, government projects and international aid efforts. These alone will not do. Education and training alone will not do. In Africa Christianity changes people’s hearts. It brings a spiritual transformation. The rebirth is real. The change is good.

And of all things, this quote from the Times Online is posted on RichardDawkins.net. Not quite the place you’d expect a promotion of Christian influence!

Which leads me to encourage you to become engaged in your society. Too long we’ve given place to the world and its influences, allowing the world to go on its eat-drink-and-be-merry way. I’m a conservative, Independent Baptist; but I’m the first to admit that we can be so conservative that we don’t read outside our circles nor think outside our training nor fellowship outside our own. We got so separated that some became inbred and introspective. We forgot the part about being salt and light in our world. We’re afraid to be part of our community. We say they don’t like us, but it’s human nature to distrust the unknown. The reality is that we left them.

Would that it could be said of us, as Parrish writes again about his experience in Africa:

The Christians were always different. Far from having cowed or confined its converts, their faith appeared to have liberated and relaxed them. There was a liveliness, a curiosity, an engagement with the world – a directness in their dealings with others – that seemed to be missing in traditional African life. They stood tall.

Let’s be different. Let’s be the ones who reach our communities by being part of them. Though they may not like our faith, they will nonetheless have to say that it works. And just maybe it might bring them to meet Jesus.