Greetings to you all in the name of our Lord and King Jesus Christ!

I would like to call this trip to Southern Sudan, a country I call home, as a reflective trip that I had asked God to use as a means for me to reconnect with him and seek his purpose for my life.

 Even though I feel blessed to be living in the western country of Australia, I am so challenged by what I have seen and above all amazed by seeing what God is doing through people who dedicated themselves to serving God’s people in this part of the world.

Particularly I am amazed by What God is doing through the family of Sadet and Suzy  and their amazing medical team who are doing an incredible amount of work that I personally find it hard to believe if it were not for the loving grace of God.

The reason I felt so much challenged and touched by this trip is that my life experience of living in Australia as a Southern Sudanese Christian has been shaped to value and celebrate secular and worldly career oriented success more than what God can do through people who love him and obey his calling to serve.

My prayer for Sabet and Suzy’s family in Sudan is that God may continue to use them and provide for them to serve him for the glory of his kingdom.

Taban Alex

A long day has passed

A hard day

and I steal away to a quiet place

No one can see me

and that’s important

and I can be alone with you

my loofah. 

One of God’s surprise luxuries

things I never expected to be blessed with

Here in this harsh land, where I only expected sacrifice

God has hidden for me

Suzy’s fantastic cooking

mosquito netting that feels like being swaddled in angel’s wings

all the mangas I can eat

and my loofah. 

To think, you grow here on a vine

I can see you scattered about, as if you weren’t a precious treasure

Why does your plant produce you?

Was it just “to gladden the heart of man”¹

like wine

and oil

and stars?

I care not why you are there

whether as the plant’s fruit or its waste

All I care is that I have you

my loofah… 

You’re kind of like the Word

already I am clean because of you²

And every time I have an encounter with you

I want to run and tell everyone how wonderful you are

how each of us should have one

To wash away the dirt we accumulate each day

living in this filthy world

To scrub away the dead skin

the old man

and reveal the new man beneath³

And man may try to make a softer, easier version

like the polyethylene ones I could buy in a store

but nothing is better at cleansing me

than God’s original design

of my loofah. 

And so three times a day I steal away

to a quiet place

where no one can see me

And each time I emerge refreshed

alert

strengthened

to face the challenges of new dirt

Twice I steal away with my Bible

and the third time, it is with you

my loofah. 

1 – Psalm 104:15

2 – John 15:3

3 – 2 Corinthians 5:17; Colossians 3:9-10

Today marks the official end of the ‘dry’ season!  We had a refreshing amount of rainfall this morning, lasting more than a threat or 5 minutes.  Sunday we had a ferocious sand storm and this morning started out the same but behind the sand came the rain.  It is now pleasanty cool.  Time to go buy wellies and a rain mac!

Every morning during wound care, a line of boys comes into the clinic. They’re all of different ages, but you couldn’t tell; unless their wounds are fresh, they’re all laughing and joking with each other, whether they’re 80 or 8. (RICHTER!!!!)  They’re funny little things, and they use the same verve that got them into trouble to carry them through it.

They’ve got wounds everywhere on their bodies, but it’s the expendable limbs that get hit the worst – the stuff that flails about and gets banged up, likes legs, and arms, and heads. A frequent source of fresh injuries is the bicycle; children sit on the back, and their legs dangle; soon enough a leg gets caught in the spokes, and a new boy limps into my clinic.

Dinka boys try not to acknowledge pain. They can’t, or their mother or father (or in fact anyone who happens to wander by) will shush them up. One of my favourites, Wur, got pushed by another playful boy into a machine for grinding groundnuts. When his mother brought him here, he was quietly holding his bloody, mangled hand. He barely winced as we cleaned and examined it. He didn’t cry until we began to amputate his finger – I guess he was hoping we could save it, and was distraught when he saw we couldn’t. But now, he greets me with a smile every day, and stalked me to church once (now I’ve just got to get him inside it). His wound is healing well, and I’m sure to say “apath apei” (“very good”) whenever I remove the bandage.

Once, I removed the bandage of an older boy who spoke English. As I cleaned it, I was very careful, sponging instead of scrubbing, to avoid tearing the tender new flesh. He took it as an insult, demanding why I was being so soft with him. He must have been surprised when I laughed aloud at that. If only he had seen me in Basic Training; then he would know how hard I can be on my boys.

Sabet’s nephew is younger than the general crew. He has Sabet’s name, and Kate and I call him “Ka-Sabet” (“ka” is a prefix for “small” in Swahili); and he’s perpetually in here. As his broken arm heals, he breaks his toe. As his broken toe heals, he tears the nail off. But he HATES the clinic. Several men have to carry him inside if he even suspects he’s getting an injection; I once followed him around for 15 minutes promising “tuom alieu” (“no injection”) when I only wanted to wipe his wound clean. He trusts me now, but I wouldn’t dream of being the one to give him an injection ever; he has, reserved just for them, the most piercing scream on the planet, in all the ages that have passed and all that will ever be. All my other boys cover the ears and giggle, and all the patients waiting outside wonder what we’re doing to the child.

Another of my boys is quite old. I don’t know how he got his wound, but it’s on his leg, just like all the other boys. But he’s outgrown the need to hide pain. He’ll whine, and grab his leg, and instruct me to wait until the pain wears off. Yet he’s very sweet, and he always thanks me for cleaning his wound, which took much longer to heal than similar wounds on other boys, because of his age. It closed up today, and we said goodbye to him, hopefully forever.

And then, of course, there’s Superdude. For the longest time I didn’t know his name, and didn’t want to; you’ll agree that Superdude is quite apt, if you look at the picture at right. He wears a cape tied round his shoulders, and he uses a cane – it’s probably his crime-fighting weapon, and the limp is just for show. When he first gashed open his shin, he sat on the line all day, waiting his turn, even though it counted as an emergency and he could totally have been seen first. And Superdude is perpetually telling us how to dress his wound. For some time, he kept demanding an injection because he thought it would speed his recovery. Finally I stuck him with a very painful (but very effective) drug. I couldn’t help giggling as his limped away, mewling; it must be his Kryptonite.

You would think it would be hard to get my ka-boys to show up every single morning to have someone poke and prod at their wounds. Here’s the secret; as much as I like boys, they also like me. I smile at them, and learn their names; when I’m cleaning their wounds, I sing and talk with them, helping them with their English, and learning Dinka from them. Soon I’ll be proficient enough to discuss sports .  They jostle one another for the chance to have me be the one to dress them. I haven’t got them trading valuables for the privilege yet, but give me time… though I suppose I’ll need candy to accomplish that feat…

And none of them know that whenever they win, and I’m their wound-dresser, I’m really just looking for an excuse to lay hands on them and pray for them. Their wounds will heal without my prayers, and they’ll go back to their normal lives; but I pray that their lives will never be normal again. If you get a chance to be one of my boys, I pray that one day you’ll become one if His boys too. And so I spend the rest of the day with people of all ages, most of them pregnant women. And I wait patiently for the next morning, so again I can see, and smile at, and serve, and pray for, my rambunctious, goofy, shy, outspoken, never-seem-to-learn, always-have-learned-something-new, laughing, wonderful, hilarious boys.

I held a brand new baby in my arms the other night. A new life, one that God chose to give. How perfectly crafted he was – and rightly so, for his mother is beautiful. All her years, all her hard work, the nine other children she gave birth to, none of these had decreased the beauty God gave her when he created her. Her husband clearly had taste, for his other wife was similarly tall and beautiful. She spent the whole night with her “sister wife”, and I’ll never forget the look of wonder in her eyes as she watched me wash the tiny form of her stepson (stepson? Is that right?). A valuable experience for her, because in her womb another life was growing, and in a few months, it is her child that I will carefully wash.

We named him Zebulun, after Jacob’s 10^th son. I say “we”, but I didn’t really have any part in the naming. The team did – nine people who came on a short-term mission trip from the Rancho del Rey church in California. Their coming brought new life as well… new life to them, many of whom had never left their comfort behind. It brings a fresh spirit to you, to see more of the world that God has made, and more of the people for whom He died. You know this, if you’ve ever done it. Their coming brought new life to us, who begin to grow weary in doing good; their joy, their wide-eyed innocence, their sweetness, their willingness to do whatever the Lord says; they ministered to me, for I know that a month ago I was in their shoes, and I hope I brought a freshness to those who were here before.

Each member of the team gave his or her testimony in staff devotions as the week went by. And one by one the messages the Holy Spirit had lain on their hearts, the experiences through which He had brought them, ministered to the men and women who work in this ministry. And one morning, they gave an invitation, and for the three people who responded, new life began. I praise God! I want to dance, and caper, and laugh, and sing; for in heaven, the angels are doing so, and I want to join them. For three new siblings, who would not do the same?

Psalm 104:30 says that when God breathes, life is created, and He renews the face of the earth. The previous verse talks about the other end of the cycle, for when He takes away their breath, they die and return to dust. The team left, their time here came to an end. One day I will leave, and I’ll have to face what they’re facing now, a return to the normal life; to the temptation to care for comfort, to resist the call to prayer, to worry about what I will eat and drink and wear, to desire to accumulate things and ignore people. I pray this experience will never die, but will keep bearing fruit, bringing life.

I held a baby in my hands the other day, but this one was not brand new. “Macerated stillbirth” is the technical term; she died before she ever came into the world. She was almost perfect, but not quite, though her mother, Gongich, is beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that as Kate examined her earlier that day, I was just staring at her face; I sketched her profile in an idle moment, while Kate searched for a heartbeat she would never find. All the platitudes, all the spiritual band-aids come to mind; the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. They filled my head as I wrapped her still, soft body in a blanket and put it aside to give to Gongich’s family to bury later. I would never put a live baby aside like that.

Ecclesiastes 7:13: Consider what the Lord has done; who can straighten what He has made crooked? I certainly can’t; there was nothing I could have done to save that child. But I couldn’t have made her either, couldn’t have crafted those pink toes or that soft hair. And I trust the God who made her, who made Zebulun, the One who orders life and death. I remind myself of the truth: that He is good, that He is just, that He is loving. And then I look around, and there is evidence all around me: in the family that rallied to Gongich’s side; in Sabet, who prayed for her in a language I don’t understand; in her ability to continue to smile.

 I don’t fear my own death; my family knows that when I die, I want my funeral to be a party; rejoice  for me, because I’ll be in heaven. So I rejoice for Gongich’s daughter, that she got to skip the burdens of this life and go straight into the Father’s arms. Sometimes I’m tempted to be jealous of her. But no, life isn’t all burden. Though she never had to battle with sin, neither did she feel the wonder of learning that her sins are already paid for. So I’ll just carry on, hoping that I can continue to help in the Father’s work, that I can see others come to know that wonder: God loves me, and died for me! Wow! His death has brought so much life. For every stillborn child I hold in my hands, I’ll also get to hold a live, crying Zebulun. And everyone I see come to new life in Christ will never lose that life. And best of all: in heaven, there will be no more death.

“For I can do EVERYTHING through Christ, who gives me strength.”  (Philippians 4:13)

Most of you know, I’m a city girl. I don’t camp. This has been the ultimate camping trip for me!! God has given me incredible strength! It’s HOT! There are bugs, big spiders, animals that don’t stop making noises, numerous bats, and funky diseases. Really God?? Me? Africa?? A wise woman once told me “God does not call the equipped, He equips the call.” So true! God has totally equipped me and given me strength to do everything.
I helped deliver a baby! Okay, well, I held the flashlight and washed the baby, but still. Sheena and I helped Jean-Paul (the doctor) and Kathryn (the nurse) delivered a baby on Monday night. The mama started having very random contractions and then all the sudden her water broke and a few pushes later a cute baby boy come into this world! This was her 10th child, so we gave him the Christian name “Zebulun” after Jacobs 10th child.
I had a very “proud wife” moment today. I had the opportunity to listen to the pastors teaching today. I started off listing to my hubby, Todd, teach. Wow!! How excited and proud I was of my husband! I was amazed that he could teach so passionately from the Bible while a man kept spitting out the window. (Dinka men spit regularly throughout the day). After listening to Todd I switched classrooms and listened to pastor Matt. I laughed out loud as he acted like a possessed man and snorted like a pig. Matt, Todd, and Steve have done an incredible job training the pastors.
Three years ago I lead Rancho del Rey KidsGames. We were in our new facility with NO air conditioning in 105 degree weather. Little did I know God was preparing me to bring KidsGames to Sudan. This has been an amazing week with the kids. We have ministered to over 700 kids in 6 different villages! We put on skits, share the “wordless book”, and we have even sang a song, which we learned in Dinka, and we played games. The World Water Bucket Competition has been a huge hit. Not all the teams ended up with water in the end bucket but they sure had fun trying! I loved watching all the parents on the sidelines laughing at their children as they competed in the relays. I am so thankful to have had the opportunity to meet all these wonderful kids!
Just when I thought I had experienced it all… I went shopping with Suzy & Sabet today at the local market. BANG! Ummm…was that a gun shot?? Sabet quickly went to see what happened. We stood still. Sabet came back and told us there was a crazy man with a gun and it was not safe for us to be there. Normally in that situation I think I would have totally freaked out but I stayed calm. It helps when you’re with a highly respected couple in the community.
This trip has been a 24/7 walk by faith trip for me! I am so thankful that God called me here. The funny thing is that all the people here think that we came here to help them; what really happened was that they helped me. God has stretched me! I now have a closer relationship with Him because of the things I have experienced and because of the things I have seen here.

Hi everyone! Stacie here. Or, Yar as I am known here. I still can’t believe I am writing you from Sudan, Africa. I had one of those “I am in Africa right now” moments earlier in the day. I’ll get to that in a minute. For starters, I’ll let you know what we did. Because our first two days in Tonj were so hectic and because the next few days will be also, we did not do Kids Games today. Today we just worked in the compound. Breakfast was at 8:00. We had these yummy donut thingys. I can’t remember their name. Then, at 8:30, we had devotions with the compound staff. Sheena led devotions today. She gave her testimony and shared Proverbs 3:5,6. She did a great job.
After devotions, most of us went off to the pharmacy. We did an inventory of all the medications and supplies they have. It was a big project and it took a long time. We worked from 9:30 to 2:00 and still weren’t done. Matt and Todd taught the pastors. Today they discussed relationships with wives. Their culture is very different. How do you tell these men to love their wive(s) when they didn’t marry for love? Its strictly a business transaction. So Matt said, you need to love them like Christ loves the church. Someone asked, when I show love to one of my wives, the others get mad, what do I do? Matt couldn’t say, “you should only have one wife, divorce the others.” We can’t encourage them to abandon their wives and kids. So, he focused on teaching them to instruct the next generation to only having one wife. The cultural differences are huge, to say the least.
At 2:00, we had lunch, which was PB & J sandwiches. After lunch we went back to the pharmacy to keep working. A little later, the time came to begin dinner preparations. In this case, dinner was a goat. Sheena volunteered to kill it… and she did. While we don’t think it’s wrong, Amy and I did not want to hear it, see it or meet the goat before it died. We waited in the pharmacy while the deed was done. A little while later, a few of the pastors taught us to sing a Dinka song. It was really fun to learn it and sing it with them. I wrote it down phonetically so I could sing it, but I’m sure it looks nothing like the real words. Our goal is to sing it at RdR…. We’ll see….!
After that, the pastors began dancing. This is when I had one of my “I’m really in Africa” moments. It was exactly what I would expect tribal dancing to be: singing, stomping feet, kicking up dirt, sticks and jumping around. After a bit, some of the guys jumped in and then Sheena! I stuck to dancing with the kids on the sidelines. Everyone laughed when they danced. It seems everything we do is funny to them! The dancing went on for a while. Then once it was over, we stayed and talked with them for a bit. Here is how a lot of my conversations went: Are you married? No. Why? God hasn’t brought me my husband yet. If you were in Sudan, you would be married, God will bring you your husband in Sudan. At this point I laughed nervously. Then one guy said, do you agree to get married in Sudan? I said, no I have to get married at home. It was really funny. Some guys asked how many cows it would take to marry Sheena!
For dinner we had an African meal: goat, kale type stuff, beans and tortilla thingys. All my thingys have a name, but I just can’t recall them. For my friends and family, yes I tried everything! So, that’s a wrap up of today. This trip has been amazing, overwhelming, filled with joy, filled with tears. There is too much to write about here (plus I am out of room!). Words cannot express how much strength God has given me. I have been stretched in so many ways. It is awesome to be here, relying on Him to get me through the day. My favorite thing I have done so far was washing the hands of the kids at Kids Games. They put their handprints on a banner with paint and I got to clean them off. It was a special time to connect and serve the kids, praying for them while I did so. I can’t wait to get home and tell you all about the things we have done, all I have experienced, and how God is working in our lives and the lives of the people in Sudan.

 Okay so Matt is having us all take turns writing on the blog. We are supposed to share what happened today and anything God has been revealing to us. I don’t really know where to start but I guess the best way to start is by saying….WOW.
So far this trip has made a HUGE impact on me. I have been seeing and experiencing things I never thought were real. I just figured places where people lived like this was only on TV or in Ads when they want you to donate money to someone or something (you know “dramatically enhanced”)! My mornings have been spent in the Medical Clinic. And let me tell ya what….it is such a different experience than working medically in the states. Today A kid came in maybe about 8 years old. He was bashed in the head with a rock. The doctor (Jean Paul) and I had to suture the wound because the wound was so deep. Once we cleaned it all the way we could see the child’s skull. Now in the states this is not a fun experience but it can be over and done with within an hour with the child feeling little pain. Here, however, that is not the case. This child had to go through the cleaning and the suturing with very little pain relief (he basically felt it all). Then the real danger comes in with infection….the injury occurred the night before he came to us so the wound went untreated for many hours exposed to many different things. So now we are giving him daily injections of anti-biotics in hopes of him not getting an infection. This is just one of the stories I have about the differences in medical care. It is amazing to me the resilience these people show. God is doing so much in the clinic here….it is absolutely mind blowing. Each person that comes in, as we give them care we are praying for them.
Moving on to the afternoon. We put on Kids Games for the children in different villages. Today we ministered to about 237 Sudanese people and when we arrived we were welcomed in song which is always so special. They play hand-made instruments as they sing and harmonize praise to God in the most touching way. It was so amazing. I believe around 15 of them received God’s gift of salvation! There are four teams organized by color. Red, White, Green and Yellow. White Team won the nationally done Water Bucket Game with ¼ cup of water and the Green Team won the potato sac relay! It has been so amazing watching the kids and adults eyes light up when hearing the gospel!
We all have been working very hard on our Dinka language and the people here have been having fun teaching (mostly laughing) us. To share with you some of the things God has been showing me on this trip: that even when you can’t communicate with someone you can still show God’s love in such a mighty way and touch others, we take our “easy-access” to God’s word for granted, even when I am feeling most defeated (physically and emotionally) and can’t go on anymore – God always gives me the strength I need to keep going, that you can learn how to love God by watching others give their praise and worship in their way, and so many more things. It is hard to put into words all the things God has shown me and all that He is doing here. But know your continual prayers are working and we are so appreciative of them. Thanks you so much!
Goodnight from Sudan!