Go Beyond

Democratic Republic of the Congo | 25 October 2015

One of the toughest things about living in a remote geographical context is the lack of access to good medical care. Spending this past week in Kivubwe, a village on the shores of Lake Tanganyika in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, has again reminded me of the intense suffering of those who live far from medical care.

The DRC is often referred to as the worst place in the world to be a woman. In remote places like Kivubwe, maternity can mean mortality because of pregnancy related conditions. The maternal and infant mortality rate here is among the highest in the world. Additionally, the problem of fistulas as a result of pregnancies gone bad is a huge problem for women.

This past week I met two teenagers who have been suffering in silence in Kivubwe. Hemmed in against the shores of Lake Tanganyika by mountains, these kids have limited options for getting the specialized care they need. And, because their families are on the lowest end of the poverty scale, these families cannot afford to access the care their children require.

On the day that I accompanied one of our ex-pat partners, a surgeon, to a village clinic an hour’s boat ride from Kivubwe, a fifteen-year-old teenager joined us. My doctor friend explained that this young man was dealing with the initial stages of leprosy — already visible in his fingers and toes. The DRC, it turns out, has one of the highest number of new cases of leprosy in the world.

Leprosy — I am familiar with this dread disease and what it can do to a human body. I have met many people with leprosy on my travels to India. In this day and age leprosy is a preventable disease, unless you live far from medical care. My doctor friend introduced the boy to the folks who run the small village clinic we visited and arranged for him to get medical care. We will help to underwrite the medical costs of this boy’s care.

Later in the week I met a thirteen-year-old girl who had a horrible skin disease. I sent photos back home so that a dermatologist could help with the diagnosis. The doctor looked at the pics and identified the skin disease as a congenital condition called Ichthyosis Vulgaris. He also prescribed a plan to help mitigate the condition. Again, we will help underwrite the cost of the medical care that this young girl needs.

Although I have seen all sorts of terrible diseases and physical ailments on my travels, nothing bothers me more than to see children suffer — especially from things that are preventable. Certainly the worst place to be sick is any place that is far from good medical care. Remote villages like Kivubwe are indeed among the worst places in the world to be sick.

Every summer, the children of Kingsland raise funds during our Vacation Bible School to help kids in other parts of the world. Next year, we will invest our VBS offering in the DRC to help build three operating rooms in three remote villages. Our partner and his wife, both doctors, will make their rounds at these three locations. This initiative will result in many lives being saved. In the meantime, our missions ministry will continue to assist by helping to underwrite the cost of medical care and the sharing of the gospel in the DRC — one of the worst places in the world to be sick.

Democratic Republic of the Congo | 24 October 2015

Trouble often lurks in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. After five days of fruitful work among the Congolese Taabwa, trouble came looking for us. We had just finished lunch when I noticed a man walking in our direction. Something about him bothered me — the look on his face, his walk. Whatever it was, I had an uneasy feeling about this guy.

I have had uneasy feelings like this before. Over the years of taking the gospel to hard places I have met too many guys like him. I have been questioned by authorities, followed by police, surrounded by angry people, run out of more than one village, physically pushed by a Muslim imam, and had my stuff confiscated. This guy, I thought to myself, had the unmistakable markings and swagger of trouble.

His first order of business was to identify himself as a person of authority. He was, it turned out, a low-level official who was despised by locals because he is a bully. Although we had all of our documents in order and had permission to be in the village, he insisted that we did not and threatened jail numerous times over the course of what became hours of back and forth.

Over the years I have learned that you cannot reason with bullies whose only agenda is to flex their scrawny muscles and cause unnecessary trouble. When the woman who had prepared our meal asked him why he was causing trouble for us, the guy flexed again. He warned her that she did not know who she was talking to and should be careful lest she and her husband end up dead in the jungle.

By now the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Our partner motioned to us to break camp and to be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice. Meanwhile, a military official showed up and got into a back and forth with bully boy. He told him to back off and that bullies like him are the reason people are afraid to come and bring much needed help to their village.

By nightfall things finally quieted down. We made preparation to sleep under the stars since we had already taken down our tents. We had a sleepless night and stayed on watch lest trouble return in the night. When the sun came up, the bully was back for yet another muscle-flexing round. And then the military guy came to our rescue once again, giving us time to load our gear onto our boat. This time our military ally threatened the bully with arrest and told him to stand down in no uncertain terms. Bully boy finally slithered away.

Going to hard places requires that we do so with the awareness that the enemy is always looking for ways to push back and to extinguish the light. And although we had to leave the DRC a day earlier than planned, two more young men came to faith in Christ the morning we left — a reminder that no matter how hard the enemy tries, he will not frustrate the purposes of God. Ultimately God will prevail in spite of any bullies or any troubles that may come our way.

Democratic Republic of the Congo | 22 October 2015

The rainy season is still weeks away in the Democratic Republic of the Congo — but it has rained anyway over the past two days. Although the rain was refreshing, it did complicate things a bit for us as we slept in tents along the shores of Lake Tanganyika. Just as we were getting accustomed to the searing heat in the daytime, we had to adjust to keeping ourselves and our gear dry.

The rain also slowed us down a bit — in fact, it slowed everything down in the village. People waited until the rain lightened up before starting their day. During the heaviest rain we hunkered down in a dark hut adjacent to our campsite and kept dry under its thatched roof. This wait-time turned into a prayer time.

As soon as the rain started to let up, we ventured out to engage with the people of the villages near our base camp. On one rainy day, my friend Terry and I and our translator decided to hike the narrow trail that followed the rugged shoreline from our base camp to the next village. The hike was nothing short of spectacular and afforded us amazing vistas of Lake Tanganyika.

We stopped to share Bible stories with a young family at the first village we came to. Like everyone else we met, they had never heard anything about the creation of the world nor how God had made the first man and woman. So, we started there. Chronological Bible storying is tedious work but important because it sets the context for understanding Jesus and why He came.

After a pleasant visit we ventured farther down the trail toward the next village. The last quarter-mile of the trail disappeared into a chaotic jumble of slick boulders. It looked intimidating until a mother with a baby wrapped in a sling came by, hopping from boulder to boulder in flip-flops. Folks here walk this rugged trail every day and do so with mountain goat agility. As for us flat-landers, not so much but we did enjoy the challenge of picking a good line from rock to rock.

The final turn into the village was National-Geographic-picturesque. Absolutely beautiful. As we walked past wooden fishing boats and a jumble of nets on the sandy shore, we met an 80-year old man from Zambia. He was sitting on the porch of his granddaughter’s home situated within a stone’s throw from the shoreline. He welcomed us with enthusiasm and invited us to sit with them.

After listening to his story and asking him lots of questions about his life, we learned that he had heard about Jesus. So, we talked about Jesus. As we sat and faced the lake, we shared stories about how Jesus had called His first disciples along the Sea of Galilee and demonstrated His power over nature on this lake that figures so prominently in all four Gospels. Both he and his granddaughter listened with great interest as we talked about Jesus and why He had come.

One thing is certain when visiting with people who have little or no understanding of the Scripture — you have to be patient and build their understanding about God one story at a time. Over the course of our time of storying in the villages, a dozen people came to faith in Christ, some with grateful tears in their eyes. Our Safwa partners started and will continue the discipleship process to prepare these new believers to take ownership of their remote slice of geography.

In the parables of the kingdom in Matthew 13, Jesus likened the kingdom of God to things that start small but then become big — like a tiny mustard seed that grows to become the largest tree in the garden or a small amount of leaven that a woman worked into a large amount of flour. We rejoice that the kingdom of God has now come to a small fishing village in a remote part of the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

We are confident that the small beginnings of the kingdom in this remote place on the planet will indeed grow over the coming years and spread from home to home and on to neighboring villages as one transformed life touches another. That, after all, is how the gospel came to us — and that is the leavening power of the kingdom!

Democratic Republic of the Congo | 20 October 2015


I once heard a story about a blind old man who carried a lantern in the dark. A young passerby who saw him laughed at the sight of this blind man carrying a lantern at night. “Are you afraid that you are going to stumble over something,” he mockingly asked the old man. “No,” the old man replied, “I just want to make certain that no one stumbles over me.”

The blind man was right about one thing — it’s easy to stumble over things in the dark. That’s why we need light. Light enables us to see what we otherwise would be unable to see. When Jesus wanted His disciples to understand the significance of His incarnation, He explained that He had come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in Him would not remain in darkness (John 12:46).

I have thought a lot about darkness the past few days as we have walked slowly among the people of the village we are visiting in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. This war-ravaged nation witnessed incredible loss of human life. During the years of war, missionary efforts in the country were severely hampered. Throughout those years the country was steeped in darkness and unspeakable evils. The Congolese know what it means to “sit in darkness and in the shadow of death” (Luke 1:79).

When we arrived at this village on the shore of Lake Tanganyika, the tribal leader gave us permission to set up camp among them. Village kids watched with great interest as we pitched our tents. People of the village walked over to see what was going on and welcomed us with open arms. Our base camp became a hub of fellowship and the laughter of children and some deep conversations with the people about spiritual matters.

Every morning before venturing into the village, we spent time in prayer as a team. On our first morning, our partner reminded us of why we had come so far. “We are here to push back the darkness,” he said — a sobering reminder that we were indeed in a dark place and among people who had not heard about the light of the world. And so we ventured daily into the village, carrying our lanterns.

Where do you begin a spiritual conversation with people who have not heard about Jesus? We began by laying out a basic infrastructure of the story of redemption using chronological Bible stories. Beginning with the story of creation, we explained God’s interest in and love for the people of the world. We talked about why God eventually had to send His only Son to illuminate our dark world. We had conversations under trees, in the village market and local school, and anywhere we met people who wanted to listen.

As we shared Bible stories and answered questions, I thought about the words of Psalm 119:130 — “The unfolding of your words gives light; it imparts understanding to the simple.” We are grateful for every opportunity we had to share about the hope that is found in Jesus. We were even given permission to share in the village school. Our deepest prayer is that the things people heard will indeed enable them to see and understand what they previously had been unable to see. Every person we spoke with thanked us for coming and for helping them to learn about God.

We are also grateful for the dozen men and women who embraced Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior. Our Safwa partners will mentor these individuals who will remain in this remote place. This is their mission field — they must reach their own neighbors. These new ambassadors of light must now carry their lanterns of God’s light and push back the darkness in this hard place.