Sojourning in Distant Lands Archives 2009

AFRICAN CRITTERS in the NEIGHBORHOOD By Betty Tope     Africa is full of strange and interesting critters so it doesn't pay to be squeamish. One of the most interesting was the vicious looking Foaming Grasshopper, Dictyophorus spumans, which we encountered on our property in Krugersdorp, 18 or 20 miles west of Johannesburg. This is a toxic species in the family Pyrgomorphidae. They feed on milkweed and store heart poisons called cardiac glycosides in their bodies. When threatened, the grasshoppers exude a foam containing the poisons.           A creature that had me stumped for a while when we fished it out of the swimming pool in Richards Bay turned out to be a Skink, which is a type of reptile with rounded snout that feeds on grasshoppers, caterpillars and termites, spiders and, in exceptional cases, other lizards. Unlike most of the Skinks which have short legs, the one we found had no legs. It was the Lomi's Blind Legless Skink (Typhlosaurus lomii) a species of skink in the Scincidae family. It is found only in South Africa.          One of my favorite critters was the Gecko. It is endemic to all of South Africa as far as I know. Since all of the homes we lived in had vents to the outside in all the rooms (to prevent asphyxiation from coal fumes, even if you didn't have a fireplace in the home) the geckos could come and go at will. Some people hated these harmless little creatures, but I loved them. They fed on mosquitoes and other pesky insects. They had the ability to blend in with their background much as chameleons did. Sometimes they were nearly transparent. They could be seen on walls and ceilings, especially around any source of light. I looked on them as friends though I sometimes grumbled at the mess they left everywhere for me to clean up. One of our memorable encounters with geckos was the time we had just moved into a house on our arrival in Richards Bay and did not have furniture. Our daughter Laurene and son-in-law Wayne were visiting and sleeping on the floor. During the night a gecko dropped down onto Wayne and he swatted it away, breaking off its tail. Our tailless gecko was with us long after Wayne and Laurene's departure, and brought a chuckle as we were reminded of the incident.      The favorite critter of children is the giant Songololo.  They love to play with these Millipedes and watch them curl up. The word Songololo is from the Nguni word ukusonga meaning to roll up or to fold.          We heard the cries of the Thick tailed Bushbaby long before we were able to see them. These interesting little primates are active at night and can be spotted by their large eyes. Generally their diet includes insects, fruit, leaves, flowers, lizards, eggs and birds. They do have a cry similar to a baby in distress . . . very disconcerting if you don't know what it is. While living in Cowies Hill, I made many nocturnal visits to the garden trying to locate the source of the crying, but never did. Only after we moved to Richards Bay and had a giant mahogany tree next to the house was I able to spot one by using a strong flash light projected up into the tree. Sure enough, it reflected the huge eyes of the bushbaby. The bushbaby became a regular visitor to our mahogany tree and we were able to discern that he was about the size of a large house cat with a long bushy tail. Our most memorable moment with the bushbaby was the night we were having a Bible study with a neighbor at a table next to the window in the upper level of our house. I looked up and saw a bushbaby looking in the window at us. What a thrilling experience!          But my all-time favorite creature and frequent visitor in Kwa-Zulu Natal is the Vervet Monkey. You either loved them or hated them. In Gillitts we could see the trees moving from a long way off and know the troop of monkeys was on its way. They loved to play in our neighbor's willow tree and used the branches like a slide. I watched the little ones one day as they would slide to the ground and then run back around and climb back up to the top of the tree and slide down again - just like children. The mothers would box them around when they got out of hand - just like we do. They were fascinating to watch. However, our neighbor had a hydroponics garden and the monkeys were his personal trial. It was against the law to harm them, so he tried to keep them out by spraying them with a hose. Of course, they just sat in the trees and watched him go berserk!           At night they would get our dog's dish and scatter the food all over the yard. The next morning it looked like they had a wild party during the night. Sandy, of course, slept through it all, but in the morning he would smell them and follow the path they had taken all around the garden. Meanwhile, the monkeys were sitting in the trees watching him. I could just picture them laughing up their sleeve!          In Cowies Hill the monkeys were very bold and would come inside the house if we left the windows open. I soon learned that I could not leave fruit or bread on the counter tops or they would disappear, with only the skins left behind. When we left the house, we had to remember to close all the windows or we'd come home to find monkey prints all over the house. Gene was growing a pineapple and we checked it daily to see if it was ripe enough to pick. He finally decided it needed one more day, but you guessed it, the monkeys got it before he did. I had been watching a paw paw ripen at the back of the house, only to discover the monkeys were watching it, too. The day they took it, I was yelling out the back door at them and they were screeching back at me until I realized how ridiculous I was being and very sheepishly came back inside.  But it was in Richards Bay that we were constantly entertained by the monkey visits. They would enter our property by way of the wash house in the back garden, then onto our roof and then swing over to the mahogany tree and then to the neighbor's roof. When they had finished foraging down the street, they would repeat the process and take a sweep through our yard, grabbing any fruit that happened to be ripe, taking a bite out of it and then throwing it on the ground. I thought they were so wasteful, but maybe that was God's way of distributing seeds. They also loved flowers, especially pink and orange ones. They frequently feasted on our pink hibiscus trees. One day I looked out the kitchen window and saw a monkey in the top of the neighbor's huge flamboyant tree, surveying his kingdom while dining on the blossoms. How regal is that?          We were visiting friends in the Durban area, when a troop of monkeys entered her little garden and devastated it in a matter of minutes. Her beautiful lace tree was broken down and demolished as well as the pink hibiscus. I could have cried for her!           The funniest experience I had with the monkeys was one day in Richards Bay when Gene was asleep in the recliner. The monkeys came through on their usual path which took them across the roof of the back porch which was just below the window of the lounge. They started across and saw Gene in the chair. Then they backed off and peeped in the window, then backed off again and then peeped in. After repeating this several times, they finally got brave enough to cross in front of the window. I really chuckled that day!       But these delightful creatures were not to be taken lightly. They could be very vicious. When we lived in Krugersdorp an Italian immigrant was pushing her baby in the pram when a monkey attacked the baby and bit through the skull killing her. So sad. In Natal we read of a troop of monkeys who attacked some preschool children at a creche. Fortunately, the woman in charge managed to scoop the children up and get them inside before any injuries occurred.       I haven't even touched on the numerous poisonous snakes to be found in South Africa. While living in Krugersdorp, we could count on encountering the venomous Rinkhals or Spitting Cobra at least once a year on our property. The most memorable time was when I heard 2-yr. old Jimmy hollering on the front stoop. As I opened the front door, there was my baby dancing up and down barefooted in front of a large Rinkhal. I don't know who was the most frightened, Jimmy or the snake!           I was generally more afraid of the highly venomous Boomslang or tree snake, which is green in color and often found in trees. While living in Richards Bay, I was walking through the garden when a boomslang dropped down from a tree and landed at my feet. Talk about getting a fright! My neighbor was always finding snakes on her property, which she picked up on the end of a broom and threw over the back fence regardless of species. Since she had two beautiful golden retrievers, I figured they were responsible for discovering the snakes. But when I remarked to her one time how strange it was that she had more snakes in the yard than we did, she replied, "Maybe my eyesight is better than yours." Not too long after that we had some workmen on the property and they reported seeing three snakes in the courtyard behind the house. I decided Pamela was right, her eyesight was better than mine since I passed through that courtyard nearly every day and never saw a single snake. The Monkeys  . . Oh to be a monkey Playing in the trees Running, jumping, climbing Freely as the breeze.  ~ Playing with my little friends While mother hovers near Screeching, scratching, scolding, “Don’t go too far away, Dear.”  ~ Playing while we’re feeding On the luscious leaves Berries for the taking Though the birds may grieve.  ~ Following the leader In and out the trees Swinging, swaying, leaping On the high “trapeze.”  ~ When the leader’s frightened, We vanish in the air “Last one home’s a monkey,” I really do declare!  ~ Betty Tope

    One of the severest tests of a marriage occurs before you ever leave home. I’m talking about the process of packing up in preparation for an international move. It ranks right up there with having your husband teach you how to drive a car. I’m happy to say our marriage survived both though it was questionable a time or two. When we left Cottonwood Arizona in 1957 en route to Johannesburg, we had few possessions. We sold the little bit of furniture we had except for my sewing machine, refrigerator and washing machine. We happily put these into a trailer and hauled them along with our dishes and linens down to Phoenix. We were naive enough to believe the shipping company would properly repack our goods for the overseas move. Not only did the goods take considerably longer to arrive than promised, but my set of china was crushed and my sewing machine cabinet had a nail driven through the top when they closed the crate. Of course, we also learned the sad lesson that insurance only covers a loss if the ship sinks. One soon learned the wisdom of not treasuring this world’s goods. Matthew 6:19 -  Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:     

     After that, we decided to crate our own goods for any future moves, figuring we could hardly do worse than the shipping company. Remember, this was before the days of container shipping so we not only had to pack up everything ourselves, we also had to build the crates, which Gene became very adept at doing. We had very minimal breakage after that. But each move had its own stresses and difficulties. I would very carefully try to label each box with the contents both for my own information and for customs purposes, while my dear husband would be loading the crates faster than I could pack and write. In the end I had no idea what was in the individual boxes.     

     On one of our brief sojourns back in the States in the 1960s, we were living in the Phoenix Arizona area. The homes in Phoenix at that time were mostly single-story flat-roofed homes. Jim and Scott were three and two years old. We were sitting in the living room one morning when we heard the pitter patter of little feet up on the roof. The boys had climbed up on the crate next to the house and were playing on the roof. In our fear for their safety, we ordered them to come down immediately, assuming they would come down the way they went up. Jim did, but Scott took a leap off the roof. Talk about a heart stopper! Fortunately, the sandy ground was soft and he wasn’t hurt.      

     When we left Richmond Virginia in the winter of 1980 it was so cold the tape wouldn’t stick. Frustration, Frustration! I believe it was during that move the crate was dropped in the ocean, for when it was opened seawater gushed out. Our dear friends Gloria and Judy were on hand to wash dishes and mildewed tupperware. What a nasty job! The tears did not flow until I discovered Karen’s baby picture was ruined. That was just too much. We slept on mildewed mattresses for months before the odor dissipated. It is a wonder we didn’t all get sick from it..     

     When it came time to load and unload the crates, I was a nervous wreck. In South Africa there was no equipment available to load these huge, heavy crates onto the flatbed trucks so a group of muscular African men would come to manually do the lifting. I loved listening to their chanting as they performed this task, but I couldn’t watch it. Gene would usually send me away from the house while all this was going on. When we arrived in Pretoria the crates arrived on a railway truck and were unloaded from the street. Usually the crates were dropped off at our house and we unloaded it ourselves while a customs inspector stood by. If the crates were inspected at the docks, we always had things go missing. I was not a happy camper watching my refrigerator being turned over end on end as it made its way across the front yard. I eventually took refuge in the pantry where I could shed my tears in private, but wouldn’t you know, the overseer followed me there for some chit chat. Of course, the last thing I wanted to do was exchange small talk with him while my precious goods were being manhandled for all the neighborhood to see.     

     By the time we moved to Cowies Hill we were able to have a container dropped off at our house in Florida so Gene didn’t have to build any crates. By this time I was an old hand at packing. We had learned in previous moves that we were able to get end rolls of paper from the newspaper company to wrap dishes and breakables and usually saved all our boxes from the previous move. I would do all the packing up of our goods and Gene would load the container. I had been to Arizona to visit my aged and ill parents and arrived home three weeks before we were to leave. That was cutting it fine, but the packing up went well. However all did not go well on arrival. Because of the power lines, we were informed the truck with the container could not make it up Cowies Hill so everything was offloaded onto a “moving truck.” I was horrified to see all our goods arrive on the back of an open truck with a net placed over the top. It looked like a load of jumble instead of my precious furniture. Several items went missing this move, but we think they were stolen as the men unloaded the truck at our house. Usually tools are the most likely things stolen. On our first move we had stored tools in the car we shipped and they all disappeared. Years later, in talking with a brother who worked for a shipping company, we learned that tools hardly ever made it to their destination. So, if they aren’t stolen while on the ship, either the customs inspectors will take them or the delivery men. It is just a fact of life.     

      By the time we made our last move to Richards Bay in 1995, I was ready to let go. We shared a container with our son’s family and only took linens and two recliners. By then the boycotts were over and more goods were available in the country. We were able to buy local washers, dryers and refrigerators of the size we were used to and other necessities, though we usually had to return small appliances several times before finding one that worked and we did have to return the first dryer we had bought. We bought a large patio plastic table and chairs which served as our dining room furniture for the five years we were there and made end tables out of boxes, covered with beautiful fabric my daughter had given me. Scott and Sharra and their three girls lived with us in our rented home while they searched for a home to buy and waited for their goods to arrive. They all slept on the floor on foam mattresses. We bought a large ovenproof bowl and a cheap set of dishes and were in business. Sharra did all the cooking during that time and made many a meal in that bowl for the seven of us. How spoiled I was!      

     When we lived in the Transvaal, it was a law that every house was sold with a cook stove. Not so in Natal. On more than one occasion I cooked for our large family for several months with nothing more than an electric fry pan and an electric tea kettle. Of course, the electric kettle was a necessity for tea time in Africa!     

     We learned to recycle everything. Over the years I felt like I was the salvage queen. On one occasion, for example,  when our boys were sleeping in outside rooms (servants quarters), the rooms mysteriously caught on fire and their new bedspreads and sleeping bags were ruined. I was able to salvage some of it to make pillows, etc. I always advise those moving to a foreign country for the first time to be honest with themselves and take what will make them happy. Some women are happy living with orange crate furniture and a paring knife and others need the comfort of familiar things from home. There are enough stresses involved in adapting to a new culture without stressing out over the lack of favorite cooking utensils or other possessions.      

     I am always amazed at how quickly a barren house gets filled up with  “things.” It was not long before we were tripping over furniture: some handed down to us and some acquired along the way. Though we got rid of most of it, we did bring some things back with us and for the first time hired a moving company in South Africa. We were very impressed with their integrity and their thoroughness in packing and caring for our goods.      

     I will say, however, that it is a wonderful feeling of freedom once you have sold the house and car to have no keys in your pocket. The sense of release from responsibility is very liberating. Once I have seen all my precious earthly goods disappear from sight, I realize it would not matter greatly if I never saw them again. It is a weakness on my part to be so stressed out on the other end to have them arrive damaged. I am still working on that!

My Valley

When I am weary, sad, depressed There is a place I go to rest That leaves me cheered, renewed, refreshed -  ~  My Valley is alive With many sights and sounds ~  Creatures of all shapes and size Within its walls abound  ~  The morning sun lights up the day And illumines the trees across the way  ~  The turtle dove with his coo-coo-coo Sings a cheery, “Good morning to you”  ~  The great hawk circling up so high Sends my spirit soaring to the sky  ~  The silver leaves of the young blue gums Sparkle and shimmer in the noon-day sun   ~ A meerkat darts out on the lawn Looks around and then is gone   ~ The starling swoops and soars and dives Each time a flying ant arrives  ~  A lizard scoots along the ground Then disappears when he is found  ~  The mynahs chatter day and night To any friends who are in sight  ~  The deadly mamba lies in wait For him who dares to tempt his fate ~  The mousebirds flitting to and fro Seem not to know what lurks below ~  The pine trees moan and groan and sigh Oe’r all man’s evils known on high  ~  The mist comes rolling through the vale Enveloping me in a silent shell   ~ Blotting out the cares that around would press Hiding all that would distress   ~ The thorn tree with its lacy leaves Rippling in the evening breeze Arrests and puts my soul at ease By: Betty Tope

THE “HAVE’S” AND “HAVE-NOTS”

By Joanne Beckley 

     Lately, I’ve had cause to reflect more and more on” the have’s” and the “have not’s,” the rich and the poor. Why? Because I live in South Africa among the “haves” who are no longer the “have nots.” In the past, men and women learned of the gospel of Jesus Christ and led lives seeking God, joyful in discovering hope everlasting, – yet they taught their children to “get an education to get rich!” The children grew up thinking this was their ultimate goal. The parents never understood that what they lived and what they taught are actually poles apart. Today, I still hear this refrain over and over, for no one wants to be poor.  

     Yes, the hardships a person faces when he suffers a shortage of life’s necessities is a great challenge, but the challenge of prosperity is even greater because it is against us at the level of our character. Poverty faces physical or outward needs, but I have observed that although there still existed spiritual growth concerns, they found their inward hearts growing in positive ways, utterly dependent on God while striving for their daily bread. Truly, even today, the Christians throughout Zimbabwe (a country just north of South Africa) know how much they must depend on the Lord. Circumstances they cannot control have forced them to reassess their hearts, learning that only God can give them contentment in this life and the hope of living one day in a land of no tears. 

     By contrast, just a hop, skip and a jump south of Zimbabwe, here in the “new South Africa” I am watching younger Christians who’s characters have failed to grow or weaken now that life is MUCH more comfortable. Affluence does indeed present a greater number of untempered problems that are spiritual in nature. Its all they (and myself included) can do to keep from dying in the suffocating atmosphere of affluence. THINGS now take up their time and energy; they are no longer hungering for righteousness as the previous generation did. Unfortunately, their parents preached getting an education much too well! (Or rather the goal to get rich to be achieved by education). 

     Across the big water, Americans (and I am of this heritage) have lived with affluence for so long that they have totally separated themselves from the poor and therefore never really see/understand they are truly affluent – flush, loaded, wealthy! Though we seek THINGS, they will not get us to heaven. They actually blind us! The apostle Paul had to face both riches and poverty and he learned neither one are necessary in order to be content, to love and serve God. “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.” (Phil.4:11-12). Can we claim the same? Where is contentment? Where is joy is serving? Where is absolute dependence on God? 

     It takes a lot of effort to be full and to abound without losing our souls. When we’re wealthy, our spiritual survival must go beyond automatic. In fact, Jesus told us quite plainly that the odds are against it (Matt.19:24). Frankly, we (Americans and today’s increasingly affluent South Africans) are not handling our abundance very well. We’re “full” but we’re letting our spirits starve to death. The prophet Isaiah said it well: “Wherefore the Lord said, Forasmuch as this people draw near me with their mouth, and with their lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from me” (Isaiah 29:13).  

     I know all does not have to be lost. We surely have to make a more determined effort to seek the Lord while he is near (Isaiah 55:6). Let us stop thinking that our hearts are knit with God because we “attend” worship every Sunday morning, but our Bible remains unopened all week. Even our prayers may not be reaching higher than the ceiling of our bedrooms. We MUST wake up! Let us acknowledge that WE are one of the “haves” and must travel a difficult road.  Let us face the fact that things have become our goal in life so that we can repent. Jesus Christ must take first place in our lives.  And upon awakening, we will know with assurance that we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us (Phil.4:13). We can be among the “haves” if we have been so blessed (yes, blessed!), and still reach the goal of eternal life with Him.

This page is a tribute to Robert Smith who passed from this life on earth on February 10th of this year. I feel such loss when I think of Robert even though my time with him was limited. Chuck and I visited our son when he was living in Jacksonville and after Sunday morning worship we went out to eat with Robert and his family. Robert made sure Chuck and I sat by him so he could get to know us better. Throughout the meal, his attention was on us and he made us feel like we were the most interesting people, asking questions and truly listening to us. This was no polite, shallow talk just to try and make conversation; I'm not sure if Robert would even know how to do that. Robert was genuinely interested in us as he is in everyone he met. We sometimes do a lot of talking about loving each other but it may end there with just talk; Robert, however, loved Christians and it showed.

Robert loved the Lord and he wanted everyone he met to come to know the salvation we have through Christ. He traveled across Jacksonville to lead a Bible class in the apartment building where my son lived and worked. Some of the residents came and Robert made such an impression on them that when my son told them Robert was gravely ill, they wanted to visit him and at least one went to his funeral. Robert loved people and he loved their souls.

On a personal note, I would like to honor Robert for being such a good friend and mentor to my son, Daniel. He was a spiritual father and a good faithful friend that was always ready to lend support or just to have a good laugh with as Daniel enjoyed his sense of humor. Robert loved my son and I will always be grateful.

I didn't speak of Robert's great love for his family and their love for him. I will leave that up to his wife, Andrea, as you can read her beautiful, loving thoughts I have placed on this page. This was read at Robert's funeral and she was kind enough to allow me to share it with you.

Robert still shines in this world as we see the lasting reflection of love that shines in the hearts of those who were blessed to know him. May all of us strive to love everyone we meet, and to care about their souls as our brother Robert has taught us. 

-Pat Gates

Robert's Obituary:

“Robert Charles Smith, 57, passed away on February 10, 2009, in Jacksonville, Florida. He had been serving as an evangelist at the South Jacksonville Church of Christ since August 2007.

He was born in Shreveport, Louisiana, on December 13, 1951 to Eddie Smith and Rebecca Wilson Smith.
Robert married his wife, Andrea, in 1989 while living in Germany. They have two daughters, Rebecca Julian, born in 1990, and Deborah Dionne, born in 1991. Robert’s father died in 2000. In addition to his wife and daughters, he is survived by his mother, two brothers Eddie and Kenny, and one sister Jocelyn Lamar.

Robert was an outstanding athlete at Jefferson High School in Daly City, California, and was recently nominated to the Daly City Sports Hall of Fame. He gained a BA in sociology from the University of San Diego before moving to Hagen, Germany, where he was a stellar professional basketball player from 1974 to 1983.  After an injury curtailed his basketball career, Robert completed a three-year advanced Bible study programme at the Kirkland Church of Christ in Kirkland, Washington. In 1986 he returned to Germany, where he worked for three years as an evangelist in Aachen and four years in Kiel. Robert spoke German fluently and is much loved by Christians there.

In 1994 he and his family moved to Seychelles to do evangelistic work. While there, he also served as technical adviser to the national basketball team and as a youth development officer with the National Sports Council. When he left Seychelles, Robert left behind a thriving congregation where one of his converts, Jimmy Petrousse, now works as an evangelist. In 2006 Robert worked for one year with a congregation in Darmstadt, Germany, before moving to the United States so that his daughters could graduate from high school in the US.

Robert was unusually successful in doing personal evangelism because of his easy manner and genuine interest in every person he met. He loved his family deeply, and they were models for all of those who came to know them. Robert, Andrea, Rebecca and Deborah have been respected as examples in the South Jacksonville church. A big, friendly and transparently spiritual man, Robert Smith will be remembered by a devoted family, scores of spiritual children and hundreds of friends in Churches of Christ all over the United States, Germany and Seychelles.”

*****

The following was written by Robert's wife, Andrea. It was read at the funeral and Andrea graciously sent me a copy when I asked her if I could publish it. I would like to take a moment and honor Andrea in her work for the Lord. She had unselfishly left her homeland, Germany, and traveled with her husband to different areas of the world to help spread the gospel. It is a difficult task for a man to preach effectively in foreign lands without their wife's support. Often these preacher's wives aren't given the credit they deserve for their faith, courage, love, and dedication to their husbands, as well as to the work of the Lord.

My son has told me how much he admires Andrea and the good conversations they've had. He told me of her love and faith during her last days with Robert. I know her pain is great as she now lives with her great loss. Please remember Andrea and the girls in your prayers.

 .

My one and only, my greatest love,  

My soul mate, my dearest, beloved husband,

Thank you for 19 years of love, harmony and bliss that ended so abruptly,

Suddenly -beyond human comprehension. 

Despite knowing the blessed reward, the heavenly joy and triumphant company you are in now,

My love is drowning in tears,

My heart feels heavy, sad and lonely. 

You meant the world to me.

Thank you for the adventurous years in

Different countries on different continents where your radiant love

Touched everyone you got to meet. 

Thank you for our two faithful daughters

In the Lord that are inspired and strengthened

By your purposeful life and endless love for God, for them,  

And the people around you. 

Thank you for your unceasing patience in difficult matters,

For your caring discernment and sound advice 

You were ready to share at any time of the day

with everyone who asked you. 

Thank you for your matchless love,

Unique humor and laughter, and everlasting memories you leave behind

As a reminder to live life in God to the best Of your ability each day –

You invested little in this material world  -  

Your treasures were in heaven. 

God called you and You left heavenbound -for a land much greater

Than all those that we can conquer

In this world. 

You have gone ahead to a far away land you wanted to see most. 

Death did indeed part us, It is however not the end –

It is the beginning of eternity! You are alive!  -

Just in another world.

Earth has no sorrow that heaven

Could not heal!

What a comfort for my soul! 

You conquered death and moved on to higher ground,

To the joys divine, to your Lord Most High -- oh could we only

Be with you. 

We are all on our way though

Preparing for that glorious land  -  

Lord, guide us safely in this world, I pray,

So in Your time it will be well with our souls journeying home to eternity       

Where we will see you again. 

But for now let us be encouraged by God’s promise and rejoice: 

“…..those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. 

Now…We will soar on wings like eagles,

We will run and not grow weary,

We will walk and not be faint.” (Isa. 40:31) 

Until our spirits reunite,

Yours forever, ANDREA                    

     With Rebecca and DeBorah 

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me.”

(2 Tim. 4:7-8)

The following was taken from Jimmy Petrousse's report concerning the work in Seychelles. Robert taught Jimmy the gospel when he was living and working in Seychelles. I'm hoping to tell more about the work in Seychelles next month. pg

.

It is still with a sense of shock and disbelief that I pen these few words about our dearest brother, Robert Smith. In the words of Paul, Smith, during his years in Seychelles “ proved to be gentle among [us], as a nursing mother tenderly cares for her own children. Having so fond an affection for [us], [he was] well pleased to impart to [us] not only the gospel of God but also [his own life], because [ he] had become so very dear to us” ( 1 Thess. 2: 7-8). Of course the same can be said about his wife, Andrea who worked tirelessly during their twelve years of labor in the Seychelles Islands. Smith had an incredible gift of inspiring people, and he has definitely left an indelible legacy on the hearts and minds of every Christian here. It is amazing to both Tabitha and myself of how many times Smith’s name comes up in conversations or interactions with the Seychellois people--both Christians and non Christians.

One memory that resonates the most with the majority of the Christians is Smith’s unconditional love for God and people. He was a man who never apologized for the truth, and preached and taught the truth with such boldness and confidence that there was no room to doubt where he stood. What made him so special was his ability to live a very balanced life. Smith never took himself too seriously. He was a big prankster and loved to cut up and make jokes. He was so giving and always trying to be accommodative to others’ needs and circumstances. The word stranger did not exist in his vocabulary. To him, every person was a prospect worth investing time and energy in. And that gift he spent his whole life perfecting.

Smith taught us all about being a wonderful father, a loving husband, a disciplined worker and a committed Christian. We all miss him so much, and cannot wait to meet him in glory. We cannot thank him enough for the example he has been to us and the love of God he has nurtured in us through the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We love him more than anybody will ever know, and the impact of his life on ours goes beyond description. Thus, for now, we say so long, our loving and caring Gentle-Giant, so long!

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The following writing was taken from Tabitha Petrousse's Seychelles' report:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths” (Prov. 3:5-6). Oftenfont-family: Baskerville">times when life hurts and pain knocks at our door, we find ourselves asking the question “why?” It is hard to know and to understand why things happen, but God knows our pain and our sorrows and He knows “why!” He is always there to comfort us through our tears if we only let Him direct our paths. With the untimely passing of our dear brother, Robert Smith, the congregation here in Seychelles has worked very hard to “not lean on our own understanding.”

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There was much anticipation and planning among the brethren for Smith’s return after having left country for more than two years. To the members here, Smith was not only a brother in Christ, but also a father figure, a mentor, a friend, a role model, a coach, and the one who taught them the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The impact that he and Andrea and the girls had on this small Island nation goes beyond description; it is a legacy that will truly last a lifetime. So one can only imagine how the news of Robert’s sudden and grave health condition and eventual passing, affected the church. It was a time of devastation, sorrow, pain, disbelief along with every other emotion that one can think of. Through our many prayers and times of comforting one another, this pain was eased by the simple fact that we were so happy that Smith got to go home. He made it! He had reached his goal that he had worked a lifetime for. Not that the sadness has disappeared or the mere disbelief is gone, but simply because Smith can say, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me...” (2 Tim. 4:7-8) 

From Linda Maydell, teaching in Zimbabwe:
During one of the breaks I met a woman – I am ashamed I cannot remember her name – I will call her Naomi, for she is a widow. She had brought two visitors to the meeting. Naomi’s story slowly unfolded as we communicated in my faltering Ndebele and her broken English. (I have spent many hours studying Ndebele, which seems to go in one side of my brain and out the other, but the few words I remember have opened many doors – because my faltering attempts encourage them to speak English, since their English HAS to be better than my Ndebele!) Naomi’s husband died in South Africa on Christmas day, and he was the only means of support for the entire extended family: Naomi and her 6 children, Naomi’s widowed sister and her 8 children, and a third sister’s two orphaned children. Naomi and her sister receive drought support. It lasts about 3 days. She now doesn’t know where she will get money for school fees. She was not able to plow and plant much this year because she is weak from TB.

Whenever I hear “TB” my heart just sinks because that means there is a 99% chance that her husband died of AIDS and she is dying of AIDS as well. Her sister’s husband probably also died of AIDS and it won’t be long before the oldest of the 16 children, now 19 years old, will become the head of that household. This is an all-too-familiar story. Couples, desperate to provide for their families, violate 1 Cor 7:5. The husband goes off for a year at a time, succumbs to temptation, and brings AIDS back to his wife. Malnutrition and lack of anti-retrovirals exacerbates the problem and causes people to die all the sooner.

What was so amazing to me is that, unlike the Naomi of the Bible, there was no sense of complaining or bitterness. There was no asking for more aid – the only request she had was for a Bible and a songbook. My standard answer to such requests is that, because I do not know the women personally – whether they are faithful or honest or not, I ask them to approach the men of the congregation and ask them to speak to Bigboy who will relay to request to us. She seemed fine with that, but I wasn’t. I was afraid that her life would end before she ever saw that Bible, as Bibles are scarce and generally go to the men first. I had my own Zulu Bible with me (the Ndebele Bible is a poor translation and many Ndebeles use an old Zulu translation - sort of the equivalent of “Shakespearean Ndebele.”) But to give up my Zulu Bible, even though I can replace it ....it has so many helpful notes – English words written in the margins – I don’t even know if Naomi can read well .... this all swirled around in my mind.

Finally, in the late afternoon, I had an opportunity to teach the ladies. Sandi had just given them an excellent lesson on resisting fornication, geared especially to the young women. I had a lesson burning inside me to try to motivate the women to train their children so that they will be strong enough to resist the fornication that so permeates their culture. This is not happening among Christians as it should, partly because, until recent years, very few women had Bibles, and even with Bibles, the women do not seem to know HOW to teach their children - and many have difficulty comprehending what they read. Sadly, the lesson did not go well – some women needed to leave in the middle of the lesson because Gumpo (thankfully) returned to transport them back to their nearby village, and after that others seemed to suddenly realize it was getting late and they wanted to start walking because they wanted to get home before dark. Is it arrogant of me to think that if I just had the opportunity to finish the lesson, one lesson of mine could change their lives? But I wanted to TRY!

However, even though others scurried away, Naomi seemed reluctant to depart. She called her sister and some of her children to introduce them to me. I asked the children what grade they were in and made the connection that one of the girls who so impressed me in the children’s class was actually Naomi’s daughter. My mind was settled: I handed Naomi’s daughter my Zulu Bible, opened it to some obscure O.T. passage, and asked her to read. She read beautifully. As we waited for Gumpo to return, I demonstrated to Naomi and her sister how they could teach their children to read and to comprehend what they read by using the Bible - so they can be educated and occupy their time in a positive way, even if they don’t have the opportunity to go to school. I drew a clock-face in the dirt and gave the children a math lesson. I found out that the 12-year-old daughter did not know her multiplication facts (they don’t drill that at school anymore) – but her mother knew them! So I showed the ladies how to drill addition and multiplication, using the clock-face. (I wonder what my third-grade teacher would think if she knew her teaching strategy went to a remote section of dirt in Africa!) Most importantly, I finished the lesson I never got to finish for all the women by encouraging Naomi and her sister to read a few verses from Genesis to their 16 children every night. They promised me they would and I believe them. By the time Gumpo arrived to take us to Bulawayo, Naomi was clutching her new Bible - smiles all around.

By 3 am I had had enough sleep that my protesting old bones were able to wake me up – and the day’s events crashed in on me again.

I prayed and I wept for the needs of the brethren – physical and spiritual – and the frustrations of trying to help them. (For example, it would be so wonderful if women like Naomi could receive more aid – but, because congregations are generally not mature, lacking elders who are respected enough by the congregation to be trusted to distribute aid according to need instead of so much per person, it hampers being able to do more.)

I prayed and wept for the countless Naomi’s of Africa, who are partly victims of bad government and drought, but who on the other hand partly brought suffering on themselves because they committed fornication and “had” to get married (because they were pregnant) and ended up with husbands who never learned to control their desires.

Finally I wept and prayed for their innocent children who seem destined to repeat the mistakes of their parents – unless something is done to break the cycle. That something is the power of the word of God – but I feel so inadequate to give it to them in a helpful way, and so limited in opportunity. However, Les and I both thank God for the opportunities we DO have – the brethren have opened their hearts to us and have invited us to give them the word of God. THIS is why Les doesn’t want to retire and why we don’t move back to the USA to be with our family. And THIS is why we so sincerely appreciate your support and especially prayers. We have truly had an incredible opportunity to receive and understand and live by the light of the word of God in a world that is mostly in darkness. I often ask myself why it is that I have been so greatly blessed.

With love, Linda Maydell

     I would like to introduce you to Carol and Ron Chaffin. They have been in South Africa for about three years now. This amazing woman married Ron and agreed to immediately move to South Africa with her new husband. They have been very busy ever since teaching and hosting any number of guests in their home. The following occasion took place in the very large Kruger National Park. I thought you would enjoy reading of her experience.  

Joanne 

     "One exciting thing did happen. Ron and I were sitting in our car (as you are not allowed out of your car) on one of the observation roads looking at several elephants in the water. They all left and went up the far bank so we started to leave. Ron started the truck and we were going around on this road when Ron said, "Look here, Honey." A whole herd of elephants were coming down to the river from our side of the bank. About the time we saw the elephants, they saw us. One of them flared out her ears and threw her trunk up in the air and trumpeted. She started walking towards us. I started telling Ron to back up, back up! Once we started to back up, the elephants went on down into the water. It was about fifteen to twenty elephants with many young babies of varying sizes. After they were in the water, Ron pulled the truck up to the edge to watch some more and when that elephant saw us again, it charged up the bank after us. Ron got that truck in reverse real quick and, of course, the elephant didn’t chase us very far. After the excitement was over, Ron asks me why I didn’t get that on video. I would not have been able to hold the camera still and scream at the same time." 

Carol Chaffin

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