world food program

Death From Above

[vimeo 1926084] The invisible north/south border of Sudan was a wasteland. Heat, drought, echoes of war; it had every look of what the end of the world might be like.  We were based in a small village called Mariel Bai and we’d been here for two weeks.  The airstrip and shortwave radio were the only contact to the outside.  Things like plastic, straight wood, and meat were prized commodities.  The people here were the generation who’d survived the war.  Most were of the Dinka tribe and they had little knowledge of the outside world.  The knowledge they did have, was of things like Land Cruisers, AK-47 rifles, Anatov bombers, the UN world food program, and cotton shirts. They were wise survivalists who learned to live amidst the face of war.

So far ministry had been good and we were able to pray for the sick and see many receive Jesus.  Things were so good in fact on the ministry side we seemed to forget we were loosing weight by the double digits. From the look of things, Will was weighing in at a gaunt 120-130 lbs., I seemed to be doing a little better.  You burn through body fat like a torch through ice cream when you are consisting on only one small plate of beans and rice a day.  The source of life for everyone in this area came from the WFP (world food program) airdrops.  Farming was nil, the threat of famine was high, and so whenever we heard that sound of the Hercules cargo plane we’d grin and rush out to the airfield.

One evening, as the sun was getting lower on the horizon, we heard a deep rumble in the distance. Everyone knew what it was and it was quite a phenomenon to watch the village freeze in place, look blankly to the sky, and wait for the noise to get louder.  If it got louder it meant the load was coming our way, if it faded it meant it was headed elsewhere.  Each person cocked their ear to the sky as if they were in trance.  No one made a peep.  The rumble grew into a roar and we all leapt to our feet and ran to the trucks.  The Cargo plane screamed overhead out pacing us to the drop zone and we drove hard and fast.  The Hercules aircraft stalled almost to a stop, pointed its nose to the sky and rained down food.  It did this routine for a couple of passes.  Our group hustled for the falling wooden pallets that support the food in the aircraft because it was good wood for construction.  The sacks of grain were guarded by the SPLA for later distribution and everyone went away happy because the food had come.

On our way home Will rides in the back of a pick-up cruising along at a fast pace.  The driver notices a dip in the dirt road and swerves to avoid it, Will lurched back and falls out of the truck like a scuba diver going backwards into the water.  Dirt plumes fly up from his impact and the driver slams on the brakes when he notices what has happened.  Will lays on the ground for a few seconds and then miraculously stands to his feet.  Dazed, confused, his head hit hard.  “Sorry, sorry…are you okay?”  Are the first words he hears from the driver as they rush to him.  He has trouble speaking and asks if his head is bleeding.  We get him back to the compound at dusk and he starts to loose his memory.  It’s getting concerning.  How do you deal with head trauma in the middle of nowhere?  Better believe in healing.  We prayed for William and patch up his wounds.  He was confused for the night and we kept him awake and talking.

The next morning we set out for ministry and within days William is completely healed!

On our journeys around the world we have been in dangerous, desperate, and hostile situation, but God has brought us through the all.  Even when a life could have been taken the Lord sustained us and kept us going.  Our safety and survival is also credited to you!  Your prayers and intercession have protected us and helped us in everyway and we ask that you would continue as we prepare for another major gospel expedition.