Good morning Hope Seeds. Sorry I could not be with you today but am glad to bring this update of Namibia. As many of you know it was 2002 when I first felt God's tug on my heart sending me to a country I never heard of before. By August 2010 I moved there permanently. Thanks to your prayers, my work permit was granted last December and is good through November 2013. Throughout these many years I have found meeting a person’s immediate need by offering a hand up toward self-sufficiency (gardens for food, livestock for business and educational needs and simple encouragement) provides a means to reaching their hearts. Let me share with you a brief story about a man named Paulos Musakos. His story seems a little similar to mine. I’ll call it “From Gutters to Glory”.
I first met Paulos in mid-February wandering aimlessly around Five Rand Squatter’s Camp, a home to 4,000 impoverished souls living without running water, electricity or hope. I was in search of some folks to help me plant a rather large vegetable garden at a nearby elementary school. Paulos, who spoke some broken English jumped at the opportunity of some income ($4 a day is the going wage.) After gathering a few others we were off to a good day of hard work. Paulos seemed different from the many folks I encountered because of his work ethic. His face was deeply scarred and throughout the day my curiosity was peaked and I asked him what happened. At one time he told me he once had a subsistence job and a good family. But several years ago his wife decided to run off with another man. Before she left she attempted to stone him to death while he slept. Paulos never really recovered on the inside and turned to the comfort of alcohol soon landing him in the gutters as he wandered from village to village. But today somehow was different as he worked tirelessly. That evening as we were completing our work the town cattle auctioneer dropped by and asked me if he knew of some reliable help for his auction the next two days. I quickly volunteered Paulos who promptly showed up and performed so admirably, the auctioneer offered him a full time job clearing brush at his 5,000 hectare farm. A week later I visited Paulos at the farm where I witnessed a sober man who had eaten for a straight week and now had a modest tin shack for shelter. He even cleared a small plot of land at the back of his new “home” for a garden. He had nothing to plant but of course I just happened to have some vegetable seeds in my back pack to get him started, (thanks to Hope Seeds). A week later I returned and he proudly showed off his new sprouts. This time he also showed me a crudely built chicken coop he erected. Of course he had no chickens, but thanks to Fred Wilson’s (a dear friend’s) timely and designated funds for chickens a few months earlier, Paulos soon became the proud owner of one rooster and 2 plump hens. The third week I went back it was a Sunday and I encountered Paulos walking down a dirt road in his ragged clothes that were freshly washed. I asked him where he was going and he said he was looking for a church. I continued on my way to some other appointments but ran into him again that night walking that same dirt road in the middle of nowhere. But he had a smile on his face and a beat to his walk. I asked him what happened and he said he found a man driving a donkey cart who took him to a little church 23 kilometers away. Paulos then told me that’s where he gave his heart to Christ and his life was changed forever. We departed paths and a few days later I headed back to America for a brief furlough. As I share this story, I realize all I did was show up in a place called Namibia, because people like you have cared for me, supported me and most of all prayed for me. To God be the Glory!
I first met Paulos in mid-February wandering aimlessly around Five Rand Squatter’s Camp, a home to 4,000 impoverished souls living without running water, electricity or hope. I was in search of some folks to help me plant a rather large vegetable garden at a nearby elementary school. Paulos, who spoke some broken English jumped at the opportunity of some income ($4 a day is the going wage.) After gathering a few others we were off to a good day of hard work. Paulos seemed different from the many folks I encountered because of his work ethic. His face was deeply scarred and throughout the day my curiosity was peaked and I asked him what happened. At one time he told me he once had a subsistence job and a good family. But several years ago his wife decided to run off with another man. Before she left she attempted to stone him to death while he slept. Paulos never really recovered on the inside and turned to the comfort of alcohol soon landing him in the gutters as he wandered from village to village. But today somehow was different as he worked tirelessly. That evening as we were completing our work the town cattle auctioneer dropped by and asked me if he knew of some reliable help for his auction the next two days. I quickly volunteered Paulos who promptly showed up and performed so admirably, the auctioneer offered him a full time job clearing brush at his 5,000 hectare farm. A week later I visited Paulos at the farm where I witnessed a sober man who had eaten for a straight week and now had a modest tin shack for shelter. He even cleared a small plot of land at the back of his new “home” for a garden. He had nothing to plant but of course I just happened to have some vegetable seeds in my back pack to get him started, (thanks to Hope Seeds). A week later I returned and he proudly showed off his new sprouts. This time he also showed me a crudely built chicken coop he erected. Of course he had no chickens, but thanks to Fred Wilson’s (a dear friend’s) timely and designated funds for chickens a few months earlier, Paulos soon became the proud owner of one rooster and 2 plump hens. The third week I went back it was a Sunday and I encountered Paulos walking down a dirt road in his ragged clothes that were freshly washed. I asked him where he was going and he said he was looking for a church. I continued on my way to some other appointments but ran into him again that night walking that same dirt road in the middle of nowhere. But he had a smile on his face and a beat to his walk. I asked him what happened and he said he found a man driving a donkey cart who took him to a little church 23 kilometers away. Paulos then told me that’s where he gave his heart to Christ and his life was changed forever. We departed paths and a few days later I headed back to America for a brief furlough. As I share this story, I realize all I did was show up in a place called Namibia, because people like you have cared for me, supported me and most of all prayed for me. To God be the Glory!
