“I just witnessed to Peter and Paul,” I told Patrick as we headed back home from a trip downtown.

Who says the Lord doesn’t have a sense of humor? I was talking to a shopkeeper and his friend last week about the things of God. As I was wrapping up the conversation I asked them, “By the way, what are your names?”

“Peter,” one said as I extended my hand.

“Paul,” the other responded.

I couldn’t resist making a parting comment. “I’m going to pray that God makes you both into fishers of men like your namesakes.” That got a smile. God’s Word is a serious matter, but occasionally we can use the pick of humor to turn some otherwise gospel-hardened ground.

Patrick returned to Nigeria two weeks ago. He brought with him funds donated exclusively to help solve our vehicle need. After a year and a half of praying and waiting, we are now in possession of a Land Rover that, Lord-willing, will be the answer to our vehicle dilemma. The prayers and financial assistance of many of you made this purchase possible.

Now we request that you not stop praying, but focus with us on the next step: establishing a remote mission station. The village that’s held our interest has given us a piece of land to develop. It was my intention to return there three weeks ago to clearly mark the boundaries before the rains set in. However, enter car troubles—and then the rainy season. Our old pick-up still sits at the mechanic’s, patiently waiting on a specific part that doesn’t seem to be anywhere in Nigeria.

But now that we have the Rover, we can return to the village. The problem, as expressed to me by the chief, is that the land we’ve been given is prime real-estate. That’s good news for our future agricultural endeavors. Presently, though, it means that villagers are probably scampering to sow their seed there as well. This was why the chief strongly urged that we start developing the land as soon as possible.

So we don’t know what to expect upon our return next week. We obviously won’t go uprooting anyone’s crops. But if large sections of the property are being used, it could hamper our near-future intentions. Pray that we’ll have wisdom in dealing with whatever circumstances we find there. We do feel strongly that this particular region has a genuine need for the ministry vision God has given us. At the same time, we’re carefully praying through each step of the decision-making process.

And finally, this is for all of you who get a kick out of our animal kingdom adventures. A friend that knows of our affinity for primates thought we might take in an orphan. “His mother was caught in a trap. The baby was hanging onto her back,” he explained. It sure was young, but definitely a monkey. So now ‘Hopalong’ has joined the team. So far Edna the baboon is ignoring him.

We are grateful to all of you who allowed yourself to be used of the Lord to meet our vehicle need. We pray that the Rover will be an instrument of ministry for many years to come!

In His service,

Jeff & Patrick

5/20/2009 –

Our new Rover loaded down with camping gear, we hit the road last week for its maiden field test into the Nigerian wilderness. This was the first trip after an unplanned two month hiatus from the village. The inconveniences life throws our way (like vehicles breaking down) are rarely planned. Yet the wait is always healthy in God’s economy. And there’s always a lesson or two to be learned. 

The contrast between the drab and dusty landscape of our last visit, and the revival that the rains brought to the land was a welcome sight to travel-weary eyes. Our concern had been that we’d discover the property given to us by the village already in use by local farmers. But upon our arrival we saw that only one small plot had been sown. The young man who’d done so was a part of our welcoming committee. He quickly conceded he’d done what the chief had told him not to. We came to an agreement in which we reimbursed him for the seed. Now our first peanut crop is on the way.

It’s been two years since we left Belize. We arrived in Nigeria with a vision, one that we’ve laid the groundwork for as we’ve explored isolated village areas. It seems the time is now ripe for us enter into the next phase, namely developing the land. I’m reminded of Proverbs 24:27: “Prepare thy work without, and make it fit for thyself in the field; and afterwards build thine house.”

The work without—the labor of seeking and finding the place in which the Lord has led us to settle—is accomplished. The spiritual work of preparing the fields through prayer is ongoing. Now the season of constructing a home is at hand. So with our friend Zumji, who accompanied us, we spent our first full day in the village measuring and marking the boundaries of the property. We then spent the afternoon of the following day staking out the perimeter of a future house.

As this latter chore was winding down, we received a group of Fulani men who’d come to observe the odd doings of the foreigners. This predominately Muslim people group wanders Nigeria with their cattle. It just so happens that our location is a primary stopover destination for them. It’s situated at the mouth of a narrow mountain pass that lies on their annual north-south route.

Zumji told the lounging men that we’ll be living here the next time they pass. This excited them. He also said, “You’ll be welcome to come and visit. The foreigners will have medicine for your families, and sometimes even medicine for your cows.” This really excited them. Already word had spread that a Fulani baby running a fever of 103 was brought to our campsite earlier in the day. Patrick and Zumji showed the family how to soak a towel and wrap it around the infant’s head. The family then hastened to the nearest hospital, some hours away by foot, motorcycle, and taxi. They returned in the evening with a child who was considerably better.

We’ll be returning to the village in a few days. The village is far from Jos, the road bad, and on-site building supplies are limited. Every trip must count as we bring along what we’ll need for future projects. Thankfully, we’ve recently acquired a trailer to assist with this. We need your continued prayers. The work is the Lord’s. May He be the builder of this house so that we won’t be found having labored in vain (Psalm 127:1).

Dayspring Mission Update 6-12-2009

When it rains, it usually pours here in Nigeria. Aside from what’s coming from the sky, we’re experiencing a dampening of a different sort these days.

We bought the Land Rover only to discover upon extensive driving that it needed some major engine work. If I ever write a chapter about this season, it will be called “My Life at the Mechanic’s Shop.” Why? Because we’ve been traversing Jos over the last two months in attempts to find someone who can fix the problem once and for all. Everyone has a different opinion—and a different supposed solution. Don’t get me wrong, there is ample opportunity for evangelism at places where mechanics and their customers dwell, but I’d rather go there voluntarily instead of compulsorily.

Last week we took the Rover to a local Lebanese mechanic who, we discovered, has the diagnostic equipment we so desperately need. The verdict was, “Yes, your car needs some work.” This we knew. “Yes, I can do the work.” This we had hoped. “Yes, it will be expensive.” This we had expected. But what to do? The literal shade tree mechanics around town have only been engaging in the same sort of troubleshooting we’re capable of—but charging for it. So, we gave the go ahead for our Lebanese friend to proceed. It’s been back to the taxis for us. 

But the vehicle situation has just been the persistent drizzle type of precipitation. About a month ago Patrick’s laptop hard drive crashed. Okay, we could work around that. A lot of what was on his was backed up on mine. But then last week (you guessed it), my hard drive crashed. The situation quickly elevated from the stage of inconvenience to serious dilemma. Theoretically, we should be able to retrieve the data from one of the hard drives. But the other is making an ominous clicking sound. And Best Buy has yet to franchise into West Africa.

So when the generator stopped running two days ago and the water began backing up from the septic into the bathroom, we can now say it’s pouring. James writes to “Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations [trials].” That’s an easy verse to read when the trials come at a manageable rate. But when they come crashing down all at once…we should really consider all of it joy? Yep. And that takes a serious act of the will. However, we have the assurance that in doing so our endurance will lead to the perfection God desires (James 1:2-4). No matter how hard it is to accept, trials are necessary if we are to progress in the faith. In fact, they are the cobblestones that comprise the road.

In the midst of it all, as is often the case, God is leading us into another phase of ministry. We’ve recently begun a home fellowship group. This is something Patrick and I have both long sensed a need for in our area of Jos. But it’s been a matter of waiting upon the Lord’s timing in stepping out to do it. We have no desire to pull anyone away from a congregation that they are currently involved with. However, when out evangelizing we continually run across individuals that desire to be a part of a simple fellowship where they can seek the Lord together with others of like mind. This we are trying to facilitate. Please pray that we’ll have the mind of the Lord in doing so.

What about the village? The combination of our car troubles and the summer rains has kept us from returning. The latter didn’t take us by surprise. We initially anticipated the rainy season delaying our plans for building. But we had hoped to at least be able to do a bit of farming and land development by now. At any rate, it’s all in the Lord’s hands. In the mosaic of ministry, unforeseen delays often prove themselves necessary when hindsight makes clear the bigger picture.

If you’ve been to our website recently, you’ve probably noticed it’s not been updated. The defunct hard drives are the reason. Also, several of you have sent us email address changes in the last few months. The ones we haven’t been able to update yet are still on the hard drives. Would you resend those?

Thank you all for your prayers and support. May God grant you grace to not simply hang on during the trials of life, but to count them all joy.

After writing this yesterday, we received a call from the mechanic doing the work on the Rover. We met with him this morning and he explained to us that although he was able to improve the vehicle’s performance, the engine really needs to be replaced instead of rebuilt. So, we’re hoping to replace the current four-cylinder with a needed V-8. Will you pray with us about this matter, that the Lord will provide the means to accomplish it?

In His service,

Jeff & Patrick

7/3/2009 –

If you had a piece of land in Africa and were starting to develop it, what would you do first? Sink a well? That’s probably what we would do too—if it wasn’t the middle of rainy season. Instead, we put up an outhouse. In a village where that concept is nonexistent, private facilities are top priority for us.

As I began digging a big hole for such a purpose, two men from another village arrived on a motorcycle. Greetings are highly valued here. So I figured they’d stopped to extend theirs, and to inspect the bature (white man) as he sweated with a pick and shovel. We did, of course, exchange salutations. But then, while I was still catching my breath, one of the men took the pick, jumped into the (at this point) shallow hole, and got busy. From then on the two alternated back and forth, digging and shoveling. This left me grateful, but feeling somewhat like a lazy supervisor. I tried to take my turn, but they wouldn’t hear of it. The hole got deeper at a rate that I suspect I wouldn’t have been able to match. 

Up until the arrival of my new friends, a few boys and men from our village had been mingling around the campsite. A group would walk over and see what I was up to. They’d then drift back to where Patrick and Zumji were constructing the outhouse itself. Their observations were welcome, but not wholly productive. However, when they saw the zest at which the two outsiders from a village on the other side of the mountain were laboring on our behalf, it seems to have sent a healthy ripple of jealousy coursing through their complacency. Patrick instantly had boys begging to use the rivet gun, and use it they did. We had no problems thereafter securing volunteer labor.

When we first arrived in the village, we discovered that we’d stumbled onto the Fulani Annual Convention. In actuality, there was about ten different families all happening to be camped in the immediate area. One older lady came over to sell us a large bowl of fresh butter. Even if we could’ve afforded the asking price—and had a refrigerator to keep it in—it looked to be enough butter to have carried us for a good six months. We politely declined. She then offered to give her daughter to me in marriage. I declined that to.

Later that evening a group of Fulani elders walked over for a visit. Excerpts of the conversation are as follows (loosely translated from Hausa):

Elder 1:  “What? Do we not get chairs?”

Me:  (Pointing to our travel boxes) “Yes, yes—please sit down. We welcome you.”

Elder 1:  “Are you from Italy?”

Me:  “No, America.”

Elder 1:  “Can you speak like an Italian?”

Me:  “No, English is very different.”

Elder 1:  “One time an Italian lady came to Nigeria. She gave me an injection [medicine].”

Elder 2:  “Do you have injections for our cows?”

Patrick:  “No, but we hope to in the future.”

Elder 3:  “Do you know Barak Obama?”

Me:        “No.”

Zumji:  “Do you know the president of Nigeria?” (The other men laugh.)

Elder 3:  “No.”

Zumji:  “In the same way, he doesn’t know Barak Obama.”

Elder 1:  “Why are you here?”

Me:  “We’re pastors. We will soon build a house here.”

Elder 1:  “What will you do?”

Me:  “We hope to start a school.”

Elder 1:  “That’s good! I’ll leave my daughter here for you to teach.” (Pointing to a little girl nearby.) “She’s got light skin like you.”

Zumji:  “It will be a school for boys. They can’t take girls because they don’t have wives.”

Elder 1:  “I will give them wives.”

We all laugh at this, though I’m sure he was quite serious. Apparently the Fulani are very concerned for Patrick’s and my current unmarried status. It was encouraging, however, to see that in spite of these men being Muslim, there was no hesitancy when it came to sending their children to be taught by missionaries.

We wrapped our trip up with a tree-planting spree. As we hope to eventually produce our own fruit, now’s the time to get the saplings in the ground. You’ll see from the pictures that we put a fence around the area. This is because the land is a major Fulani travel route. A hundred passing cattle would have little regard for a dozen small trees. The cactus we planted on the outside of the fence will eventually grow together to form a natural barrier.

In spite of the Rover’s present engine condition, it did carry us to the village and back to Jos. The cars that zipped around us at high speeds on the open road are the surest indicators of the upgrade to a V-8 engine we need to make. For now, we are thankful that we do have transportation to and from the village. 

Please pray that we’ll be an effective witness for Christ even as we physically labor. Pray that the villagers will possess open hearts to realize what we are doing is ultimately for their benefit. Pray that the spirit of Islam that blinds the eyes of the migrating Fulani would be broken: “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places” (Ephesians 6:12). That is, we wrestle in prayer. Will you wrestle with us?

In His service,

Jeff & Patrick

7/23/2009 –

Two weeks ago we left Jos for the village. We were at the outskirts of the city when the sky opened up and the rains fell—hard. So we cut our losses, which at that point only amounted to time, and turned around. There was no point to continue. The odds were against us that once we left the pavement, the trail into the village would be navigable with a trailer in tow. The next day, it poured again…and the next. In fact, we received over eleven inches of rain that week.      

Since then, we’ve still yet to have a long enough dry spell to attempt the trip. It’s for this reason that we hope to have a permanent dwelling built by next rainy season. That way if we get “stuck” somewhere, it’ll be in the village. Of course, there is no lack of ministry to be done here in the city. Nor are we complaining about our present circumstances in which we possess time to read, study, and generally seek God to prepare us for the future when time will not be so easy to come by.

The Lord continues to bless our weekly times of fellowship. This past Sunday morning we loaded up the Rover (which can carry ten) and drove to the wildlife park, where several others also met us. Since up until this point the group’s been gathering in our living room, we thought the change of scenery would do us all some good. The park has a picnic area shaded by rows of pine trees. No, pines aren’t native to Nigeria. But for several seconds at a stretch, I could imagine I was in Alabama—well, except for the wild monkeys hopping through the grass nearby.

After our meeting, we all took advantage of the surroundings and walked around. As Patrick likes to say, the Jos wildlife park is a bit interactive. If you get too close to one of the more aggressive baboons, he’ll reach out, grab your hand, and bite it. In fact, all that separates you and most of the animals there—be it a lion, hyena, or ostrich—is a chain link fence. Yep, you gotta watch those fingers.

Then, the sign for the café has a manatee on it. A manatee? In West Arica? I thought the same thing. Is there a manatee in the park? No. But there is a dry swimming pool that’s rumored to have held one at some point in the distant past. In spite of our change of venue (and the disappointing absence of a manatee), several new folks did join us for fellowship.   

A few things come to mind that I would ask you to join us in prayer over. The rains will begin to taper off in August. So we plan to be in full swing with constructing a facility in the village by September. This means we’re looking to the Lord to meet several pressing needs. One is simply His provision of the means with which to begin building a long-term mission station. Another is for the ability to drop a stronger engine in the Rover. This will become even more necessary as our trips to the village increase, along with the loads of building materials we’ll be hauling.

Lastly, the vision that the Lord has given us for a rural vocational/discipleship center is something we won’t be able to do alone, nor do we want to. We need your continued prayers, and we need Nigerian believers who will labor alongside of us. It already appears that the Lord is raising up a few of the latter. We trust He will bring the right people into our path at the right time. But we do need wisdom to discern those who will truly share our burden for the evangelization of the lost, and the desire to work with us in discipling young men into godliness, while equipping them with practical life skills.

Thank you for all of the recent emails of encouragement and of commitments to pray with us. May “we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:13).

For His glory,

Jeff & Patrick