Akilah screamed and wailed—despite her husband's frantic attempts to quiet her. But it was too late. Surely their neighbors had heard. And Ishaq could hardly blame his wife for her outburst. For months he had delayed making his dreaded confession to her. Now there was no turning back.
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God may love others, but He surely doesn't love me or my children, thought Juliyasi, an impoverished widow from rural Malawi trying to support her 6 children by growing maize. Juliyasi's husband died 3 years ago, but she finally felt that hope had sprouted in her life, just like the maize crop she'd recently planted with the new Farming God's Way principles we taught her. Maybe now I really can earn enough to support my family, she dared to believe.
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The security guard barely noticed her in the deepening darkness—just a poor neighbor throwing her trash onto one of the neighborhood garbage heaps, he concluded. His thoughts drifted to other matters. It was a normal beginning to his nightly watch at one of the residences on the outskirts of Mombasa, Kenya. It was March 26, 2006, and this security guard's shift would prove to be anything but normal.
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As Jojie leafed through the pages of the thick English book, reading chapter titles, he was immediately struck by how many key biblical truths were addressed—something woefully absent from the other Christian literature he had ever read. My fellow believers desperately need to learn and understand these principles regarding true discipleship, he thought.
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"My heart wrenched within me...and I knew we had to do something." With those words Heaven's Family staff member Jeff Trotter reported what he witnessed on his recent trip to Uganda. "Lying on the floor, little Mutebi's head protruded sideways from a thin curtain that divided his 8' by 8' mud-floored home. His clothing and mattress were soiled with his own excrement, but there was no one else at home. That, I learned later, was a typical day for Mutebi."
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Abram's motorcycle bounces along the dusty desert road in the chilly night air. The solitary beam from his headlight seems to search aimlessly into the blackness of night, until finally it finds its mark—a guard shack just ahead. Menacing barbed-wire fences reach into the darkness on either side. If he proceeds, Abram knows he could be in trouble. This is the moment of truth. But what lies beyond the guard shack is worth the risk.
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For Premalatha, the prospects of a brighter future were non-existent. She and her siblings were abandoned by their impoverished parents. So they found themselves being raised by grandparents who were afflicted with leprosy and whose only means of survival was begging. Consequently, the children were consigned to India's lowest level of poverty. Living in a leprous community shut all educational doors for them, extinguished any future hopes for marriage, and sealed their tragic fates. Worse, Premalatha was taught by her Hindu culture that they were all suffering for sins committed in their former lives. There was no sense even dreaming.
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It was past midnight. Samuel was standing, soaking wet, on the riverbank looking back across the dark water now separating him from his home country of North Korea. Though the night air was cool, he barely noticed. His wildly beating heart was pumping generous amounts of adrenaline throughout his body. I made it!...he thought with elation...I actually made it.
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No pensions, no government assistance, and in most cases, no family support. When a woman's husband dies in many parts of Africa, not only does she lose any income he previously earned, but her deceased husband's family confiscates most, or even all, of her property, leaving her and her children destitute. Grinding poverty becomes a daily reality.
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It has now been almost 36 years that I've been serving in vocational ministry. Along the journey, I've learned not just a few lessons. How I wish I could have known 36 years ago what I know now! I would have done so many things differently.
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