Posts Tagged ‘Zambia’

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A team from Apex spent two amazing weeks working alongside our Brothers & Sisters in Kitwe, Zambia in late February. Please come to hear about what God is doing in Zambia, and how we can come alongside them in bringing God glory! We will have some food that is native to Zambia, tons of photos, and wonderful stories. Please join us on April 16th at 7pm in the fellowship hall!

For more information fell free to contact Laura at luckycharmlb7@gmail.com.

Casey is a member of one of Apex’s Region 1 house churches who has an incredible passion for the people of Zambia. He was able to sit down with us for a little while and share some of the ways he has been able to serve those he’s been able to spend time with in Zambia and his passion for spreading the hope that Christ has given him.

I definitely want to encourage you to think through some of Casey’s thoughts on our attitude toward missions. After all, how missional we are is not determined by the  number of stamps in our passport, but the way we live our everyday lives.

Casey S. is sharing his journal from his recent trip to Zambia with house churches from Regions 1 and 5:

As I reflect on this day I firmly retain one theme; the light of Christ shines an extraordinary light through his servants here. Dire circumstances do little to deter the CHI staff. The work they do here is of such a scale that it could easily facilitate an army of the Body.

We began the morning traveling to what seemed to be the outskirts of Kitwe, carefully dodging potholes that could have easily measured a foot in depth. The maze of side streets are lined with concrete block walls, topped with mortar and broken glass that would make the most determine of theives turn away. The entire group arrived at our first “care and compassion” group, a local ministry established to provide support for those afflicted with HIV and AIDs. We were lead adjacent to a house underneath a metal roof crudely supported on three sides by lumber still clothed in bark. We were joined by about a dozen women and a couple of men, along with at least as many children. Immediately I wondered if any of the children were afflicted, as it was evident that their mothers were. Uncle Ken, one of the humble CHI servants, translated for us to the group. After introductions Eric began to play some worship songs, modern praise which reminded me of home. He adeptly sang and it was comforting to praise God and pour passion into song, a blessed outlet for my nervous desire to be of service. As we prayed and once again visited the Word, a golden colored mutt approached the house nearby. Quickly he was shooed away by one of the tenants, and layed to rest facing us. Perhaps he too was curious what we were doing there. As the group enthusiastically thanked us for our visit, I began to discern that they implied that such a visit wasn’t the norm for them. Perhaps their culture wasn’t as sympathetic to their plight as America might be. The real suffering that would come to pass would be in the children who inevitably would be denied a parent’s loving hand for much of their life.

As we traveled to another care and compassion group we passed what appeared to be hastily planted crops, finally arriving at a concrete block church. A humble cross cut in the masonry work adorned the peak. We conducted our ministry in yet another outdoor lean-to, this one hardily constructed despite the obvious lack of materials. We approached the group after breifly planning with numerous children who littered the grassy expanse. After a short time of worship Pastor Victor(CHI Volunteer) gave some hopeful words and scripture. Soon enough one of the clients began to address the entire group, and he seemed to be grateful to share despite what I discerned as some nervousness. He began to share of the various projects the group had undertaken, including raising crops and chickens, and making rugs with statements of hope portrayed vividly in the center. They all seemed proud to be self-sufficient, including receiving some funds for their various services. I can only understate the courage with which they faced their post HIV lives. The coordinator of the group was a man named Ford, who spoke with passion and diligence about his life with HIV. It seemed bizarre how gratefully they thanked us for visiting with them, and I felt as if I fell short of expressing that they were the ones blessing us. I wondered if any of the community fellowshipped with them. They were the most vibrant reflection of God’s Grace that I have ever been witness to. I fell in love with Christ all over again when I looked into their eyes.

Casey S. is sharing his journal from his recent trip to Zambia with house churches from Regions 1 and 5:

I have determined that this world holds more beauty than should be percieved by a single heart. There isn’t poetry powerful enough to describe what I have seen here in Zambia. Today I joined Mulenga and JoAckim to begin to help in the “Choose to Wait” ministry in public schools. Mulenga is a beautiful girl of nineteen, whose quiet nature hid a firey spirit and obedience to the Lord. JoAckim is a tall lanky man of twenty two, whose soft speech and gentle heart I would grow close to in my time there. We arrived at the all girls school under the oppresive heat of the midday sun. The grounds of the various buildings were tranquil, lushy carpeted with foliage which was being tended by the students. As we arrived in the class of 9th graders they stood and greeted us with a discipline that took me by surprise. I awkwardly shared my testimony as the girls giggled at times that seemed to be placed at inopportune times. I gratefully yeilded the floor to JoAckim who began to skillfully build a case that God lovingly created them with His own hand, and loved them enough to care about how they approached the gift that he has given us through love, marriage and sex. He shared in a way which made obvious his passion and experience for teaching God’s Word. It was then that I realized I was to be much more a student than a teacher here. As I listened intently I was struck by the attentiveness of the class, as well as the joy with which they laughed and smiled. The dynamic could have been taken from a page of a book in any classroom, anywhere. My heart softened as I witnessed the grace that the children displayed despite what I imagined were difficult circumstances in their lives.

As we reconvened with the rest of the CHI staff it was time to gather for the “Bus Church” ministry which was established the year previous. We gathered among the hustle and bustle of the streetside, meeting with some of the men my companions knew, as well as many they didn’t. It must have been quite a scene for the hundreds of passers-by, a few muzungus (white people) dancing and praising God in their native language of Bimba. Josh briefly shared a passage from Hebrews, and the men listened with a fascination that felt all to appropriate when listening to God’s Word. Josh chose his words deliberately, and his delivery was slowed with the intention of breeding understanding. I remember having a genuine inclination that this was the way Jesus intended ministry, public and without bias to who could listen, regardless of standing or caste. Many of the men’s eyes were bloodshot from substance or circumstance, or maybe both.

A thunderstorm noisily bellowed as we once again retired to the hostel. My thoughts were drawn to the CHI staff I was entrenched with during the day. Out of the nearly dozen volunteers serving God as a full time vocation, only two were paid in any way. Their faith measured a mountain in comparison to my molehill, many of them litterallly depending on God for their next meal. I have much to learn from the contentment they carry in what we as Americans would consider tragic circumstances. Their ministy of this day gave rise to nearly thirty girls confessing they wanted to accept Christ. Amazing. Grace.

to be continued….

Casey S. is sharing his journal from his recent trip to Zambia with house churches from Regions 1 and 5:

We touched down in South Africa in the late afternoon, still a bit disoriented from the journey to that point. As we stepped off the plane the air was palpably different, with the steamy weight of humidity blanketed us. We were scheduled to stay for a night in Johannesburg. We reached our destination, a small but well-kept hotel outside of the city proper. The city itself lay to the south and downhill from us, framed in a deep crimson sunset which cascaded across buildings and hills alike. It was a framiliar and welcomed sign that God was with us as we touched earth in Africa. My mind raced as I tried to anticipate the conditions we would be privy to in Zambia.

We were hurriedly dispatched in the morning and shortly found ourselves awaiting our final short jaunt of air travel. The diversity of our fellow travelers was astounding, and I found myself attempting to picture what business brings folks to travel about South Africa. As we flew over grasslands I began to pray to surrender myself to the will of God. I was drawn to my past and the first time I prayed such a prayer, on my knees in a rehabilitation center nearly three years previous. What surreal grace has brought me this far? All of my endeavors in faith seemed to culminate in this moment. Excitement and fear writhe in my stomach along with burnt coffee served by the pretty South African flight attendant.

Upon landing we were unloaded directly onto the tarmac of a small and desolate airstrip. We were siphoned through customs and gratified to recieve Visa’s free of charge. We recieved our baggage through a baggage claim which consisted of a rectangular hole cut in the wall with workers feeding bag after bag through to the other side. Soon enough our two of our hosts arrived, Timothy and Ken. Timothy a stocky fellow whose whole body shaked when he laughed, Ken a more slender fellow whose servants heart I would later find to be nearly beyond comprehension. They were both excited to have us as we began our trip across the countryside to Christ Hope International headquarters in Kitwe, Zambia. Along the road was an inordinate amount of foot traffic along with an abundance of roadside stands selling all kinds of various wares.

Our arrival at CHI headquarters was an experience I will never forget. As we pass through the main bus station of the congested street to our destination, we were greeted with what I can only describe as a royal welcome. Josh, Eric and Michael had been here a year previous, and the bus-stop attendees upon seeing them began to jump up and down yelling their names and acosting the van in such a way that I thought we might run them over. I learned later that they were granted their “celebrity” status simply by taking time to show these men love and affection in a Christ-centered way. These men were working for about five American dollars a day, hollaring out to the crowds in order to help fill the buses in a system that seemed like organized chaos at best. As we piled out of the van we were all embraced and introduced, while extending invitations to join us later to talk about this man called Jesus. “Ok. You teach us about Jesus”, seemed to be the general consesus. After a breif tour we were taken on a short ride to where we would lay our heads during our time there. We soon found ourselves in a hostel in the middle of a gated seminary campus, in an “upper class” neighborhood of town. After getting settled in my companions lead us to a field in the rear of the campus, to a reunion of sorts with the neighborhood children they had come to know the year previous. So many beautiful children began to surround us that soon enough we seven Americans were jovially playing with about thirty children or so. Upon second glance I noticed that there were no parents to be found, nor any concern in the children as to letting their parents know their whereabouts. Frisbee and Soccer, running and playing, this was true joy for all parties involved. These children were so grateful to have our affection, and we were just as grateful to oblige. After an hour or so we reluctantly retired to the spacious if delapidated hostel. We enjoyed a meal as a family of sorts, sharing our feelings and hopes for what was to come. My fear had subsided and been courageously replaced by a desire to serve. Praise God. Tomorrow the real work begins.

to be continued…

Casey S. is sharing his journal from his recent trip to Zambia with house churches from Regions 1 and 5:

After taking full advantage of amenities we were sure we wouldn’t see overseas, we boarded an immense plane for our upcoming flight, which would number fifteen hours, if not more. Distancing ourselves from our “established” lives I was comforted to be finally on our way. My companions and I are among about a hundred passengers sparsely dotting the interior of a plane suited to carry several times that. We ate a meal which was suprisingly fair, though the Coke I drank only specified it’s content in mililiters, and tasted more than a little different than what I was used to. Our destination is Johannesburg, South Africa-the last stop before our final flight into Zambia. As I observed our fellow passengers, I began to discern what must have been a peculiar South African accent cloaking a muddied English. A lot of the South African passengers seemed to adorn themselves with trinkets and jewelry which struck me as strange in conjuntion with their sweatsuits and clothes intended for comfort on the long flight.

While I grow closer to my fellow missionaries I realize that for even the most experienced of them this trip is hardly mundane. The excitement they expressed took root in me and began to permeate my mood and thoughts. I looked forward gratefully while trying to avoid expectation, a task which was easy enough considering I had little experience or knowledge with which to formulate what lie ahead. My growing faith spurs me on to practice a version of the fearlessness that comes with knowing His hand is watching over us. He has been dilligently preparing me, and I am inspired as I look into hinesight at the path He has laid before me. My every instinct foreshadows that this trip will exponentially increase the beauty that He has foreordained me to witness. Our last few breaths of recycled air gave way at last to the vision of the future home of my heart, the Continent of Africa.

to be continued…..

Over this week we will be sharing with you some journal entries from Casey S.  He traveled to Zambia with a team from Apex.  His poetic account of the trip captures how God is moving over there.  Please read and come back for more throughout this week!  If you have questions or want to learn more, please contact Amy Meredith at amy.meredith@apexcommunity.org.

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For lack of a better venue I have decided to post my journal from a recent trip to Kitwe, Zambia here on Facebook with the intent to provide intuition to my friends and family as to the thoughts, emotions, and snapshots of God’s grace that occured in our short time there. I also beleive that it will be healthy for me to reminice in this way and help me to continually cope with the culture shock that I feel is inevitable in these circumstances. This journal will probably be posted in parts as I attempted to take a fairly detailed account of the events of this trip. I would also like to provide this for those who supported us, as well as my companions on this trip. I love you all.

We set out seven from Dayton Ohio on a frigid Friday evening, Josh R., Laura R., Emily R., Michael and Amy M., Eric M. and I. Previous to leaving what I felt was the humble setting of my apartment, I remember being struck by the feeling that I should take the opportunity to endeavor in some of the activities that I might miss over the next few weeks. As I pondered what if anything that might be I drew a blank. I found it peculiar that I seemed ready to leave all of the comforts that I had come to know with little real remorse for what I was leaving behind. Without pining for my American complacency I decided to simply read from The Word, conceding that I needed final preparation it would offer. As I readied my things my ride arrived, and I was somewhat awestruck that all the attempts at readying myself had actually lead to my departure. After a few final prayers and well wishes at Apex we left for the airport and the first leg of our arduous three days of travel that were to follow.

As we touched down in Washington D.C. we found ourselves in yet another frigid climate. Michael had arranged for us to stay a night there with fellow believers, who were more than happy to send us off with nearly incomprehenceable hospitality. We split to stay in two separate households, Brian and Melissa were my specific hosts. They told stories of how blessed they were to have the beautiful home in which they resided, and shared that they had told God that if he allowed them the house that they would use it to host the Body in whatever way they could. We enjoyed food and wonderful fellowship late into the evening. While I enjoyed the stay I was stricken with a sort of nervous energy in anticipation of what was to come. I remember feeling like a brother in there household and was truly touched by the connection of our kindred causes to be servants of the Lord. As we awoke to more delicious food we soon set out to Dulles airport. Soon enough the Lord would begin inflicting a change in me that would transcend what I knew about life, Christianity, and the power of the Holy Spirit.

To be continued…