Dreams and Tea Ladies

Thank you for your prayers. Thursday evening was a spiritual battle. It was good, but difficult. That evening I was up reading and praying, pacing, and laying on my face on the dusty tile; then again pacing in petition, prayer, praise, and reading until 4 AM…a night of darkness and light, mercy and love. Friday I was up at 8 (ish). The Lord would have me to read Song of Solomon through to be reminded of how much He loves me and how to Love Him…totally given over.

Again, Fridays are worship days in the Islamic world, so most everything is closed down. Tony and I took a taxi to a local church (I was able to pray for the healing of the taxi driver, Ali, in the name of our Lord, Jesus. Ali was very grateful). Marco (who is the property caretaker here) told me that Ali has Christian friends around him, and after my prayer, he (Marco) invited Ali to come to the house to receive prayer whenever he wants. Please pray for Ali. Back to church…I will leave off the name of the congregation, but fellowship is sweet. I immediately feel the Sabbath rest of God in this place. Worship is about 50 minutes, prayer is about 10 minutes, and the teaching is about an hour. The church is FILLED with people from all over Africa and all over the globe. Many are missionaries. It is like Heaven, with so many nationalities. Services are in English, and the worship songs are contemporary. The ceiling fans whirr overhead trying to keep us cool as we praise God with singing, dancing, and clapping. There are steel benches and chairs painted creamy yellow on a concrete floor. The area is about 80 ft by 40 ft. with a small, low wooden stage. The topic taught was the necessity of confessing our sin one to another, that we may not be hindered (James chapter 5: 13-16). Bless the Lord! The Lord gave a word to a woman near me. It is blessing to be used of God.

After church, Tony and I walked home rather than taking a taxi. It was a beautiful day and we had Tony’s GPS with us (a necessity around here), so we stretched our legs on this 5-mile jaunt. The sky: blue, with some puffy, occasional clouds. The traffic is very minimal, because it is Friday, which is good, because much of the way is without sidewalk. We walk through the dirt and in the street, cautious around the open drainage ditches (quite fouled with garbage). The stores have their steel roll-up doors down, and the sound of the mosques calling their believers to prayer is loud. Whenever they call out, it reminds me to pray for them. I call out too.

Walking by, I smile and wave at the tea ladies. These are the purveyors of Sudanese culture, and so far I have been able to find one every block in Khartoum. A typical tea lady (so far as I have seen) will sit on a plastic crate with a small (18” H x 18” W x 12” D) brightly painted wooden box or cabinet with many miscellaneous glass jars of tea, sugar and spices on top of it. There is a jug of water next to her, a bowl for washing dishes and a bowl of clean dishes. There is always a kettle ready over a small iron network holding a charcoal fire. Around the front of her are five or so low stools made of welded rebar and a network of colorful string for customers sitting over the dirt, or none at all if a sidewalk is available. As I smile and wave at these women, my Bible under my arm, they beam back at me and wave. It seems as though they are not noticed in such a way enough (or they are amused by the weird white guy). I test this smiling and waving at every one of the tea ladies I see, greeting them with Salam or Salam Alekhem (spelled phonetically), meaning: “Peace to you,” or the tone of: “Is all well with you?” They all smile wide, wave and greet me as we pass. Not everyone is this way. Most of the older men wave and greet me as well, but some of the 30-somethings spit (spitting is common among the men here) and do not return the greeting.

Along the way we are greeted by two JWs (yes, in Khartoum…), and have a friendly, light, surface talk of how our beliefs differ. We wish each other peace and start to go. But God stays my heart, reminding me of the watcher, required to call out, lest the blood be upon his head. I turn, and call for them to wait a moment (they and Tony were a pace and a half away in opposite directions as I remained stayed by God). I share with them the teaching within Isaiah wherein God calls out that there is no savior other than He alone. Their response: Jesus is another God in title…This is a problem for mono-theists. You can’t have it both ways. We talked about this problem a bit, and the meeting ended well in giving them more scripture in Isaiah to read to substantiate Jesus as divine, not a created angel as they believe.

The mosques begin to let out, creating traffic again. We make our way to Solitaire, a café Tony has a hankering for. We had been there the previous night for dinner. It is a small coffee house near the airport with delicious sandwiches, juices, and wireless internet open from 8 AM until 2 AM daily. It has a VERY Californian, décor, menu, and prices. Thursday evening I had a mozzarella cheese, sun dried tomato, and pesto sandwich with fries. Very good. It was like cheating on eating Sudanese food. Tony took lunch while I chatted with a table mate (sharing tables is not uncommon), a blond-haired Zimbabwean. He talks of the destruction of the economy in his country and how tense it is getting for the people as he rolls a cigarette (people smoke in restaurants here, just like Europe) and sips a coke. He describes the Zimbabwean as peaceful people who can take a lot, but they are pushed to the wall, and he fears violence as a means to oust the government. His desire is to return to care for his parents, still living there on a self-sustaining farm. Here he does work to help move IDPs back into areas they came from as these areas become secure, and in disarming child soldiers. Very tough work. We talk of security being a commodity on the same level as food and water here. He agrees. He does not believe security will come to Sudan for a long time. We say our goodbyes, Tony pays the check, and we are back out on the road.

It is about another two miles home. We take a shortcut across a piece of land with foundation pits (about 12 feet deep each) dug throughout it. From the droppings inside each, it looks as though the local shepherds are using these to keep their flocks at night. Several Mosques are calling the people to prayer via loudspeaker again. Again to prayer I am called as well.

As we get closer to the buildings being constructed along the street you can see people who have set up blanket walls and mats as living quarters in the lower floors of these buildings. We arrive home, and like a local, I wash my face hands, and feet (as these were the only parts of me exposed) to get the dust off and pull up a chair for a bit.

As the sun sets the power goes out and it begins to rain lightly. It is sweet. The power outage is short, and I use some time to pick up more Arabic phrases from Marco. I am working to learn simple courtesy and the gospel.

Through the past few days I have been working on and about the house fixing things and cleaning. Earlier in the week we put in a request in at the local government agency to request a trip back to Darfur next week. We are waiting on their response…Please pray that we are granted permission to go. There are reports that the government is bombing or had bombed the western portion of Darfur. The government will deny this if so, but if they intend to bomb, we definitely will not be allowed in.

The Lord would have me up at 6:30 this morning (Saturday, July 14th).
Today as I got up I was asking the Lord to remind me of the dream He had given me last night. I had asked for a dream and He had given one, but I had forgotten it. It was a Nebuchadnezzar moment. The Lord had me go back to read Song of Songs again, and within the first chapter, in the reply of the friends, I remembered. It was a dream of the angels sent by God to keep charge over me, and their being strengthened by God as I pray. Complete blackness surrounds, but the abode we are in is a tall tree of gold. It is a good dream. I spend time with our God; He tells me to meet a tea lady at 4 today and clean and fix the home in the mean time. This is what I do.

Near 4 I gather Tony and James to come with me. We do not get out of the house until 4:12. I am concerned, because I know God has a time table. I do not know what I am to do or who I am to meet, if it is the tea lady or a customer. I do not want to miss the appointment. We cross the street to an open dirt area near shops and take a seat with an older women in a light green dress and head scarf. I am wondering what I will have and what the Lord will have for me to do, as He told me long ago that I am not to take caffeine and more recently not to have sugar. While sitting, I see she has a jar of dried roses. I ask James if she makes tea from this. He says yes, it is called kalkaday (spelled phonetically). I ask for this with no sugar. She gives me a glass of ice cold water in a stainless steel mug. I ask the Lord to bless it and drink, passing it to James, who drinks as well. She makes tea for Tony and James and kalkaday for me. It is great. Piping hot, red, fragrant, and sour, like a rose hip tea. Through James’ help interpreting, she asks how I can drink this without sugar (a very Sudanese question). I tell her that the Lord told me to not take sugar, and that I must obey Him. She nods. I tell her that the tongue gets used to this. She smiles and nods again. I finish my tea and ask for another. Through conversation we find that she is from Darfur, and has moved here two years ago. She has children and takes them to school in the morning before coming to work here. It is always tea time in Sudan, but the busiest time is in the morning and right at dinner time. Some of the ladies will remain serving tea until 11 pm. It is 2 Sudanese Pounds for our four drinks (about 1 USD). Before we go I ask James to ask her how I can pray for her. I ask him if it would be acceptable to hold her hand to do so. He says that it would not be good. Touching a woman in public may make the men nearby become crazy he says. It is not appropriate. She asks me to pray, she has no request. God lays many things on my heart and I pray. I pray for her family, for her nightmares, for the nightmares of her children, for her husband to find work, for her stand to be prosperous, for her peace, for the cleansing of her house, for her to know our Lord, many things. May God bless my old, Darfurian tea lady.

Tomorrow evening Gary is to arrive. Please pray for protection in travel and the plane to arrive as it should. Pray for unity in understanding the leading of the Holy Spirit.

Please pray that I would not loose the focus that God would have me to keep, that I remain connected to Him and hear His voice, and that I obey.
Please pray for my family. They are on mission as well.

As always, there is more to tell, but not all can be told in this forum.

God, please bless your name in your people. Please help us to love you. To be filled with you…fountains of living water…blessing…holiness…Fear and comfort O’ Lord.

God’s Love to you!
Todd