When two elephants fight, the grass suffers

Greetings from Sudan.
To continue the story of our trip into Darfur, we were up on the morning of the 5th of July at about 6:15 AM. The Lord gave me a word in my study this morning, saying, “I will cleanse you today.” I asked for His preparation in this: that I stand firm in the faith by His grace, with the hope of Christ living within me, and the love of God visible. I asked to be fashioned by the Lord to minister before Him, if it should please Him. I asked to be a servant that makes Him smile; to have His word within me. Again…ready to die. Counted as dead already…not by the holding fast of my concentration, or focusing my mind on a verse. Not by hours of meditation or self-affliction, but a gift from the Spirit of the Most High. God’s grace. It was a powerful awakening. A blessed time. Being dead is freedom. No need to eat. No need to lust after anything. No need for the strength of man. No need or reaction to being talked about or ignored. This is a beautiful thing, and belongs, alone, to the Christian believer. This is a gift of peace. Now, what is to be done with it? Walk meekly with eyes wide open, expectant to be used in some fashion, but without expectation as to how, and talking quietly to God often…praising Him in my heart.

We are delivered to the AU base. There is a mad man out front. His clothes are torn in two-foot, long shreds. His clothes are filthy rags (much like my good deeds). He has wild hair and beard and the inability to focus on anything for long. He moves about as a man and then ambles as an animal, hunched over. I am praying for Him; for his release. Tony asks if we can speak to him. The captain tells us that the personnel have been ordered not to engage this man, and that it would be a bad scene if we did. I continue to pray. He waves at me, then moves across the street and stands upon a structure for a time and then fades away into the nearby IDP camp. Still praying. Join me in this.

We get into the vehicles and head North. We are in the lead vehicle in a convoy of eight. It is about 60 miles to our destination. We pass a convoy of full WFP (World Food Program) trucks, and see another convoy of WFP trucks returning empty. Along the way, closer to Nyala, there are again farmers with plows working to turn the newly rained upon soil. They generally work the soil close to the road. In the distance on either side of the road you can see huge, sprawling IDP camps. They look like cities of sticks, thatching, and tarp. Rain is good for Sudan , good for farming, good for replenishing the depleted wells, and can be good for quelling fighting. But rain is hard for the IDPs. Traveling on these roads makes this easy to see. Every few miles the convoy must slow down to 5-10 mph and cross a gully. Many are paved areas that the rivers and creeks will wash over as the rain comes, and some are wider expanses of sand and dirt. There are no bridges. When the rain comes, it will be difficult to get trucks full of food across these wider areas.

As we get further out, there are no visible farm plots or settlements. We enter a hilly region and on either side of the road we see through the brush and trees camels being herded in the distance. “Janjaweed,” says one of the men. He explains that the Janjaweed will at times wait for a food distribution, then raid the IDP camp to take what they want and sell the stolen sugar to make money. I am reminded that God’s word says that every liar and every thief will not enter the kingdom. Not too long after this we come to the village of Duma , with an adjoining IDP camp. A food distribution is going on. The landcruiser (nearly every NGO has a small fleet of landcruisers, it seems) of a well known NGO is out front, and the people are lining up to receive this gift which they have come to expect and to depend upon to sustain them. The large white sacks of grain are stacked neatly in piles. Everything seems orderly.

Several miles later we come to a local faction road block of tires in the road and a turn out. The patrol leader stops, greets the men standing by the road block, who are in camouflage clothing, but clearly not AU. We leave behind three vehicles to complete their mission in this area. We take a nearby dirt road.

Traveling in such fashion reminds me that I am in Africa . It is green, and full of trees and brush, but not dense. We pass through an area of nomadic herdsmen. “These people are a problem,” states one of the men. “They answer to no one. If there is a claim against them, they just move away. They view human life as the same value as one of their animals.” He shakes his head. In the distance (about 80 yards from the road) their homes are visible: domes of sticks and rope covered with a mish-mash of materials, mostly tarp. The structures are of various sizes: from about 10’ to 25’ in diameter at the base and no more than 10’ tall.

After passing through this area, several miles later we come to a more open area containing a village destroyed by the Janjaweed. Every hut has been burned. Every structure is destroyed. There are crumbling, circular mud-brick walls remaining. In some you can see the remains of large broken pottery where food stores were kept. This was a farm community tucked away from the main road; self-sustaining. There are over 100 structures – families - destroyed. It is an African ghost town. The people are likely dead or in an IDP camp somewhere. They do not believe that this area is secure enough to return to, or they would be here.

After passing through the burned-out village, we reach the limit of our travel, are delayed for a time to speak with a few local people (for which I was given the peace of God this day…it was a blessing to me to be at peace and speak with the people in what time we had), complete the movement, and return. On the way back I noticed the WFP food warehouse. It is a good quantity of large tents (50’W x 100’L x 20’H each tent, I would guess) surrounded with chain link and barbed wire.

The conflict here is still between the GOS (Government of Sudan) and the SLA (Sudanese Liberation Army), with the Janjaweed (meaning “devil on a horse” in Arabic) also going after the SLA , and the people they represent. It also seems to be a land-grab issue mixed in with regard to the Janjaweed moving the IDPs out of their land and continuing to harass them. It is a mess. The NGOs are trying to feed the people and are being robbed. People dress up as military and stop people on the road to steal. Again, it is a mess.

We return to the base and laugh and talk with the men. One of the men gave me a famous African proverb in response to my comments about the fighting and the people’s need for security to return. He said, “When two elephants fight, the grass suffers.” That is what is happening, except there are three elephants, an undersized referee, and many ants with watering cans trying to revive the grass.

We return home to the SHIR compound. I have a lot on my mind, and pray for peace in Darfur tonight. Not one robbery, not one murder, not one threat. Peace…Sleep.

I am glad that we worship a big God. I have hope because of the mercy of God, perfectly displayed in the death of Jesus. I know that not everyone will be saved, but I know that it is His desire that they choose salvation and live in holiness, in love.

God, please restrain the desires of elephants. Teach them where their lust takes them. Teach them as you taught Cain, Lord. Your ways are perfect and higher than ours. May your will be done. May your will be carried out in your people. Help us to see our need and increase our hunger for and ability to participate in the spirit, subjecting our minds to you, God, while yet in this vehicle of flesh.

I praise you that you are the living God. I praise you that you speak to your people. Correct us and encourage us Lord. Your work is eternal. Ours is worthless without you. May the joy of being holy, used of God, be known to the Church while still here on Earth.

Bless your holy name. Thank you Jesus. Thank you God.

Amen.