Greetings of Love and Peace in Jesus, the Christ, and our Savior!
It is good to be at home with my family. I am immediately reminded of heaven. I am so looking forward to heaven… When God’s mission for me is complete here, and I get to have that homecoming to my one true home. The heart knows when it is home, and the spirit tastes heaven in the presence of God. I hunger – a smiling zeal - for the fullness of joy in the continuous presence of God. Yes, I look forward to this. But as I have heard Chuck Smith quoted (hopefully not misquoted, but I like it anyway…), “God wouldn’t keep us here if it wasn’t important. Be about the kings business.” So…back to business.
I have a few days to catch you up on to close out the blog.
I was up at 2 AM on Thursday the 26th of July. I took my final cold morning shower (I had not mentioned the showers before, but there is no pressurized water from the city utility. Each house that is connected to the water supply (where available) has a suction pump that draws the water from the supply and pumps it into a tank on the rooftop or on a stand. The pumps fill up the tank once per day (usually at night), and then the supply to your home is gravity-fed (like a water tower). Even hotels have this arrangement. Because of this, water in the morning tends to be quite chilly, and water in the afternoon can scald). I finished packing and James took me to the airport at 3 AM. No booking agents were available in the business offices, so I went in to try at the counter. James waited for me outside. After passing through security (no line in Khartoum), I was pulled aside for a random security check. I smiled… The only white guy in the place. It made me laugh inside. I opened one of my bags and was asked what some of the gear was. This is a sleeping bag, this is a foam floor mat, and this is a backpack. That was enough for them. I zipped up and headed over to pay the 35 SP airport departure tax and went to the counter. I handed my ticket with the August 2nd departure date to the agent and explained that I had already spoken to the airline agent in the US to arrange for me to be on the flight, but had not been able to get a new paper ticket because the office had been closed. She was looking helpless and confused. They have no computers or terminals of any sort at the counter. I told her that an agent I spoke with in Khartoum yesterday had told me to speak with Mr. S. Her eyes immediately brighten. “Mr. S… You know Mr. S!?” She calls over a manager. I explain the same information to him. The moment I mention this name again he perks up as well. “You know Mr. S?” I explain that I do not know Mr. S, but that I was instructed to speak with him, and that he could be of assistance in getting me a paper ticket for this flight this morning. The manager says, “If I let you on this flight, what will you do when you get to London?” “I will go to the counter and ask for a ticket, just like I am doing with you now,” I reply. “Okay. I am going to let you on this plane.” A few security issues in this transaction…but this is Sudan. It is about who you know…Amazing. This is God…it is who I know.
The flight is about one-third full. I am grateful for a window seat, as I have not had one the entire trip. It is a 2.5 hour flight to Jordan where the plane is filled with passengers before returning to the air. Those persons who do not believe in a worldwide flood need to take this flight. It is undeniable. In the first leg I passed over northern Sudan, the southeastern corner of Egypt, the Red Sea, the southwestern corner of Saudi Arabia; then landing in Amman, Jordan. The bleakness of this leg of the journey is amazing. Dirt, rock, and sand. Very very little growth anywhere in Egypt. Saudi was miles upon miles of sand dunes. Nothing. Jordan had a good amount of orchards and what looked like grain farming. Unlike the huge swaths of patchwork that you will see flying over the Midwestern US the crops were much smaller in size, but right next to each other. There would be hundreds of small, narrow rectangles in different shades of gold and brown. They would run one direction and then another. In contrast to America, it looked like a patterned patchwork quilt rather than using solid color patches. The people boarding the plane were far less conservative in appearance than in Sudan. Much more modern, stylistically. The trip to London from Jordon was amazing. The size and style of the crops remained the same but the colors became rich, green. Cities grew up close to the rivers, and black-green forests stood in a sprawling patchwork all their own. Though I was passing through the western portion of Turkey and Ararat is to the East, I was thinking of Noah, the father of all who are breathing today, coming down out of the mountain into Turkey. The portion I saw was beautifully rich and nearly completely farmed in these same small, rectangular patchworks, in all shades of green. My heart was singing praises to God this whole way (Khartoum to London)! His creation is amazing.
London was well clouded over and rainy. I made my way over to security, praying that my bags make it to my plane and that I make it through security in time to get to a ticking counter and on to the connecting flight. Security actually went faster there than in any other airport (I am not counting Sudan here). They had videos and instructions playing in a loop to give an order of operations to the passengers, such that people had their shoes off and things ready to go into the inspection bins well before they were at the front. It went fast. I was praising God.
I made it to the ticketing counter and explained my story. It was not a problem. In booking the change the prior day I had incurred a small fee ($59) because there was no seat left in economy. This took a while for their system to understand and four people to force it to, but I was just smiling that I was going to get a seat on the plane. The agent asked if I was a missionary. “Yes,” I said. “Well you have a missionary ticket, and you are being treated very well.” I told her that when things go good and when things go bad, I am always treated well because of who is caring for me. “Well,” she says, “They have upgraded you to business class. Here is your ticket Mr. Scott.” This is not the $59 upgrade seat. This is a big jump in upgrade. My ticket says “involuntary upgrade.” I thank her genuinely and thank my God for the ticket, though I know that it is not what it is until I am in the seat and the door is closed. Again, I am just happy to be getting the plane. When I get to the business class line at the gate the agent takes my ticket and says that there has been a change. I have been prepared for this. I am ready to take my new ticket and get into the massive line of people. She hands me a new ticket and says, “You have been moved upstairs to first class Mr. Scott.” This, I was not prepared for, but I said thank you, hope no one else heard, and got to my seat. It was extremely elegant with sleeper seats, a phone, a private luggage bin, a remote control for my fold out flat screen, a thick, cozy blanket and pillow, a large fold out tray, power seat movement, and a privacy divider between the person traveling next to me and I. It is about 21 square feet of private area for each passenger. After being brought a drink the head stewardess approached me and asked, “Mr. Scott, did they tell you about your foot rest?” I said no, but that it looked simple enough to figure out. She said, “No, your foot rest is not working. That is why you were provided this seat. I thought they had told you.” I explained that this would not inconvenience me at all. Yes, the service was wonderful. Yes, the food was amazing. Yes, the amenities were beautiful. Yes, you do even get a real knife with each meal.
I am thanking God and being humbled, because I belong in economy like a sardine for 10 hours, but I am being treated so amazingly well. The correlations are obvious and they bring me to joy and near weeping at what Jesus has done for me and all who believe on Him. The Father sees me as holy now because Jesus has made me clean. Jesus has paid my fare, and I am spiritually, treated like royalty throughout this life, because I belong to Him. Though it doesn’t always appear so according to the world’s standards, I am always treated the absolute best, because of who controls what I receive in this life. Always the best.
The Lord spoke to me through the movie Amazing Grace (please see it if you have not) and Psalm 2. There is a next step God is to give me a “nation” He will give me if I ask. I asked Him what is this nation (which I received as a metaphor in my life for a specific task to be devoted to) that I am to ask for, and He said, “I will tell you,” just as He did in confirming the location of this trip to Africa. I will wait. The notion of Psalm 1 struck me in considering Psalm 2. First, keep yourself unsullied by the world and have a very good relationship with the word of God, then receive your mission. This made me ask about Psalm 3: everyone has turned against me but God is my fortress – a time of trial. Psalm 4: though they are against me I have peace and rest in God. I took these four as prophetic of the remainder of my time here. God, make me ready.
We landed in LA and I waited a good amount of time to find that one of my bags was still in London, and that it would be delivered to my home the following evening. I was met at the airport by my wife, all six of my children, and Phil and Pam, the missions pastor at my congregation, and dear friends. I fielded questions and listened to several simultaneous reports of recent events from my very excited children most of the way home. Upon arriving I was so happy to take a hot shower (that did not have bacteria and amoebas in it) and get into my own bed.
The next day I took a long afternoon nap and that evening I went to a missions backyard dinner meeting for the homeschool group. It was wonderful to see my church family and eat together. I had the opportunity to share a little about Sudan to the group, which was fun. At 8 PM I started feeling sore and had a headache come on, so we rounded up the kids within an hour and headed home. By the time we were home I had a full blown flu.
By Saturday morning I was checking into emergency for possible malaria. I was admitted to the hospital and as can be seen on the blog I spent several days as the focus of many prayers. At one point my kidneys appeared to be failing and then came back on line. Malaria cases are pretty rare in the States (praise God), so I was an interest to all of the doctors who saw me. I received excellent care. Every nurse and nurse’s assistant I had was wonderful, and I took the opportunity to talk about God to many (most asked me). Many of the nurses had been overseas themselves on medical missions. Fellowship in the hospital. I was released Monday evening, feeling much better and adjusting to the side effects of quinine (Continual ringing in the ears and hearing loss, just like you may have experienced in leaving a concert with very loud music. Having six kids, this is a mixed blessing). Thank you for praying. I never felt fear, just happy to spend a few more days alone with God.
My energy returned and I began cleaning the house immediately; giving direction to the kids and making things move. It was great; we made a big dent in the mess that 8 busy people can make. But the work was a bit much for me. I spent the next few hours recuperating. I am back to taking instructions from God. He told me to stop after watering the plants this morning. I played games with Aidan, my son, and took a long nap. I am really appreciating the variety available in American food again as well! I had rice with salsa all over for breakfast, raviolis and wheat bread for lunch, chicken quesadillas for dinner, and spaghetti and sausage at midnight (thank you Susan). It was wonderful!
I am looking forward to going to the congregation at CCEA on Wednesday evening and praising God with my family of believers.
If I have a summation it is this:
While on the flight from London to LA I spent much of the time reading KP Yohannan’s book, Revolution in World Missions. Please read this book. Please. Please read this book. (You can get it here: https://www.gfa.org/freebook) Though it is not the entire topic of this book, reading this after leaving Sudan was a confirmation of what God was speaking to me throughout the trip. The Church in America does not resemble one of the virgins with full vessels of oil, but one that is happy to just get by spiritually. Jesus said that this type of virgin would not be allowed to enter the kingdom. Sobering. Jesus said that no coward will enter the kingdom. Sobering. Jesus said that those who abide in Him through obeying His commands enter the kingdom, and those that do not are cast off and burned. I have visited a place with next to no religious freedom. I have met people putting their lives and their children’s lives (even just by association) in jeopardy because they love Jesus and will stand as a Christian in a community that HATES them for it. A nation that needs Jesus so bad, but will kill any that try to help or begin to. Sudan is like an autoimmune disease…attacking what it needs to survive. And then there is America, where we can knock on doors and share whatever religion we want. When I told this to a man in Sudan his jaw dropped open. But few in America share their faith at all. They believe that it is a private thing. That was not the example of Jesus (Praise God for that!). We are ashamed to praise God, who is above all publicly, and neglect to do it privately. We put stickers on our cars of how we are “not of this world,” but would anyone see enough hope in us to think to ask us why? Do people see the joy of God in us? Are people made jealous for the Holy Spirit they see working in us? Do unbelievers praise God directly because of the good works they see in our lives? Do people see fountains of living water in us, or just an occasional drip? The Church in America is sick brothers and sisters. That these promises of God are not lived out is evidence of that sickness. As a whole, we more resemble the withered branch that is to be cut off than the spiritually fruitful vine. The message God gave me to bring back to you is a simple one.
Prepare ye the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low: and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain: And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see [it] together: for the mouth of the LORD hath spoken [it].
Simply stated, repent (which means stop sinning and do what God tells you to do, not just stop and do nothing, not stop and feel guilty, not stop and do what you think might be a good idea, not stop and do what your therapist says, but, again, stop sinning against God and do what God tells you to do. Overcome.) and watch for Jesus because He is coming soon.
God, thank you for your mercy and love. Please bless us all that we may stand on the day before You and be counted for rewards because of what you have worked in us and through us. Help us to obey You; to fear You rather than man; to live in the fear of God and the comfort of Your Holy Spirit. This is love.
I want to give praise to God and thank Him for moving in the hearts of more than 53 households that committed to pray for me, my family, SHIR, and Sudan, and the many families that came alongside my wife and children in outwardly visible love in helps and support. Thank you, thank you, thank you, God. Thank you Body of Christ for your obedience to the love of God. For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of [His] good pleasure (Philippians 2:13). You are beautiful in Him, and you reveal the love of God in your good works.
Thank you for coming on this mission with me!
I love you in Christ and because of Christ,
Todd
