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P.O Box 74, Newlands, |
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Through Fire and Flood in Sudan
Unless one has experienced the heightened alertness and intense concentration of anticipating an attack, realising that every step could be your last it is impossible to imagine or explain the fear and thrill of excitement, dread, exhileration and adrenaline rush nor how prayerful and thoughtful one can become. Before flying into the Nuba we had to be challenged: are you ready to die? Are you willing for this to be your last day on earth? And what if you're captured by the National Islamic Front government? Tim, Delia and I were walking swiftly in the darkness across a valley with only the sound of soft sand crunching underfoot. Suddenly the unmistakeable report of heavy weapons shattered the silence, tracers lit up the sky and shells exploded overhead. My first thoughts were that we had walked into an ambush and these were illumination flares going up. Then as more and more shells were fired and passed overhead we were relieved to conclude that we were not the targets! For a few minutes we watched the explosions lighting up the sky. It was a spectacular visual reminder that we were far behind enemy lines in the midst of the longest war of the century. Since 1955 the Muslim Arab North has been trying to crush the Christian Black South. Every night in the Nuba Mountains we heard gunfire. Each of the places we visited had been recently and repeatedly bombed. Sometimes we walked past burning fields and burned out homes. One pastor related how Muslim raiders had recently attacked his village to steal their cattle. He had fought them off with a shotgun. Pastors at another village described how over 100 bombs had been dropped on their village in one month. Then over 140 more bombs were dropped on their village during an eight day period. Another pastor told of a single Antonov bomber that had repeatedly circled their small village for an hour dropping 16 bombs on them. Other villages had sustained casualties from artillery fire from nearby Arab garrisons. Earlier in the week we had flown into the Nuba Mountains with 9 000 Christian books and Bibles in 7 languages. It involved flying 3½ hours into Central Sudan illegally. The National Islamic Front (NIF) dictatorship that rules Sudan has declared Jihad (holy war) against the Christians in the Nuba Mountains. The official policy is tamsit (or combing) which is scorched earth. Everything necessary to sustain life in the Nuba is targeted for destruction. The NIF forces have burned down most of the villages in the Nuba Mountains. Most of the livestock have been stolen or destroyed. Most of the crops have been burned down. Most of the churches have been burned down. Even wells have been poisoned. The Nuba are a people under siege. An island of Christianity in a sea of Islam. Breaching
the Blockade There was
also much excitement over our cargo. After a previous mission to the Nuba
I had organised reprints of Hymn books, prayer books, catechisms and Sunday
School books in the five main Nuba languages: Otorro, Moro, Heiban, Kwalib
and Krongo. Most of these books had been out of print and unavailable
for many years. As soon as the pastors saw these precious books in their
own languages they started to sing with joy. In Frontline Fellowship
God has answered the prayers of all of us with these books. declared
one pastor.
The human column swiftly picked up the cargo and we set off, each person carrying an average of 25 kg balanced on their heads, as we snaked our way up and down the rolling hills. The terrain was very dry. Everything was brown and yellow with no green visible. The last time I had visited the Nuba Mountains were resplendent in lush thick green vegetation. That was at the end of the rainy season. Just a few months of the dry season had changed everything dramatically. Most significantly to obtain water the women had to walk much further to find wells that weren't dry. And we were far more exposed to air attacks without much vegetation for cover. As we trekked across the desolate landscape people came to see the strange foreigners. Some smiled broadly and shook our hands, some tried out the little English they knew in short conversations with us. Many just stared open-mouthed at us. We must have looked very strange. They laughed at how much water we drank. I could go through 8 litres in a day and still feel thirsty! The average Nuban drinks 2 litres a day and that mostly at dawn and dusk. Our water purification hand pump also attracted much attention. It would take us over an hour a day hand pumping just to purify enough water for us to drink. The local people have the physical constitution to be able to drink the murky water from the wells without falling sick, but foreigners like ourselves would fall violently ill if we imbibed the infected local water. There was even more merriment over us rubbing sunscreen over our faces, necks and arms. Our one escort was almost paralytic with laughter as I rubbed the sunscreen onto the exposed parts of my skin. You can laugh I retorted with a smile, but you've never suffered from sunburn like I have! My skin is so fair that I've been described as a sunburn waiting for somewhere to happen. On occasions I've been so sunburnt that my face has been covered in blisters. As on all of our other outreaches, the purpose of this was to minister to body, mind and spirit. Food, seed, agricultural tools and medicines for the body. School text books, black boards and chalk, pens and exercise books for the mind. And Bibles, Hymn books, Christian books and Gospel Messengers for the spirit. My personal priority for leadership training was to present a Discipleship Training Course for 70 Bible students, evangelists and pastors in the Nuba Mountains. Some of these pastors walked over 200 miles (round trip) to attend this course! Muslims
Come to Christ Shining
Through When Delia offered meetings just for the woman and children the response was overwhelming. At first the men looked somewhat confused to be excluded from a church meeting, and a little lost to be without the women for a few hours. One old woman spoke fondly of the last woman missionary in their area nearly forty years ago and the great work she had done for them. Delia had only just turned 20 years old. We celebrated her birthday in the field with some ration packs and (in time honoured British tradition) with a cup of tea. Her tenacity and courage should be an encouragement to others to commit themselves to missionary training and service. And her example should also be a rebuke to those men who are too afraid to take the risks of serving Christ in a war zone. Delia was converted to Christ on New Year's Day, 1998. Shortly after that, while working as an aupair in London, she was shocked by the news of the terrible suffering in Sudan. Convinced that God was calling her to go and serve His people in Sudan she flew to Nairobi, Kenya. There she was robbed of all her money. Undaunted, she hitchhiked a ride on a charter aircraft up to Lokichoggio, the UN air base in Northern Kenya. From there she attempted to go into Sudan, perhaps on one of the UN C-130 air transports. However, at every turn she was frustrated. Finally someone suggested that if she wanted to get into Sudan she should return to Cape Town and join Frontline Fellowship! It seemed a long way to go to get into a country so close that she could actually see it, but there appeared to be no other way to reach this forbidden territory. When Delia joined us she wanted to go into Sudan the next day. We laughed at her impetuousness, and put her to work in office administration during the day and street evangelism in Cape Town at night. Then we put her through numerous courses, outreaches and tests including St. Johns First Aid, Muslim evangelism, the Frontline Discipleship Training Course and various Field Worker camps and outreaches, including in KwaZulu. Despite her impatience to get into Sudan, Delia persevered through the prescribed training programmes until we deemed her ready for the field. By God's grace, Delia is now the youngest Frontline worker ever to be deployed in the field and also our first female mission worker in the Nuba Mountains. What Makes
a Missionary? Those who are easily upset by irritations, loss of sleep or unfair treatment and those who are moody and easily discouraged and depressed are not suitable for missions. Missionaries must be emotionally stable, and self disciplined. In the mission field, relationship difficulties are often aggravated by high levels of stress, heat and cross-cultural frustration. The closeness of living, travelling and working conditions intensifies interpersonal conflicts. Missionaries tend to be strong-willed people, so potential clashes can undermine the mission team and projects. There are two major problems here: dependant people who need constant support and direction and sap the energy from a team; and independent people who divert the team's energy as they pull one way and another to pursue their own agendas. Missionaries need to be inter-dependant (team players) relinquishing their own interests for the good of the team: Self-starters, self-reliant and self-sacrificing. The harsh
terrains, hot climates and primitive conditions of most mission fields
require healthy and fit missionaries who can endure and be effective in
adverse conditions. And who can cope with and recover from debilitating
sicknesses. Obstacles
abound. Frustrations, disappointments and discouragement's are occupational
hazards and part of our job description. Missionaries need endurance
a willingness and capacity to suffer hardships, discomfort, opposition
and worse. Sacrificial service is more eloquent than many sermons. |
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