...you shall lift a Daihatsu with your bare hands, and you shall even stop the rain...          June 1, 1992

Dear friends and family in Christ,

        It was a normal Sunday. Just a normal Sunday. The sun was shining and a cool breeze was blowing as we hopped into the car to go to worship with the Misari Kaksingri congregation. It was only 8:00 am and we knew a long day was ahead because Misari is so far and the roads so bad in May what with two months of daily rain. There were several stops to make along the way and a few errands to run before we arrived at worship. Rose and James Tindi were going with us so we stopped to pick them up, and had an opportunity to check on the fence construction for our yard and house that we are building in South Nyanza (just north of Rongo town). Shortly after leaving Rose and James' house we turned off the tarmac and began our long trek towards Lake Victoria, Heh! These roads are not as bad as we expected. We're making such good time that maybe we can expect to be home early today (before dark; that is). Then a quick stop to greet James Tindi's brother who lives in the Lambwe Valley and on to Misari.  We left the mud road at about 10:30 am and turned onto the hillside path that climbed up to Kasuku’s home. We were enjoying the sun, the bright blue sky, fluffy white clouds, and the green circle of hills that rim the Kaksingri area. The going got rougher as we climbed the hill but all in all, the path was navigable and we were still enjoying the sights as we traversed several cornfields, beat a path through several kilometers of weeds, and tried to ignore that fact that we were driving on a very narrow path situated on the edge of a large hill. That wasn't the end of our trip though, for we parked the car in a patch of grass about three foot high, and proceed on foot down into a ravine, across a dry (well... a semi-dry) river bed, and up the other side. The going was quite slow with a thin layer of slimy mud under our feet and Barry on a cane because of his foot injury. But we arrived safely and were greeted warmly even though Kasuku admitted that they didn't expect us because of Barry‘s foot injury.
        The Misari Kaksingri congregation had planned to walk to a neighboring hill and worship with the Mukende congregation for the day. We threw a little wrench into their plans and they were clearly unprepared to host. But "impossible"‘ is not in a Luo's vocabulary when it comes to hospitality.  Klement sent his wife off to the market to buy some corn for feeding the visitors. We sat down to rest for a while, and it was not long before worship was underway. Worship included two times of preaching that day and a rather lengthy prayer time for those who were sick. It was 2:30 pm before we finished, and the dark clouds we beginning to roll in as the regular afternoon rains dictated. I noticed Klement glancing at the sky now and then and as soon as worship ended be hurried off to help his wife get the meal on the table knowing that rain would make our trip out of Kaksingri very difficult.  None of us knew then just how difficult.
        We had a delightful time of fellowship over lunch, hurried though it was.  It was plain to us that Kasuku and family were really sacrificing in order to serve their guests. This time of year, just before harvest, is the time of slim pickings for Luos. Ten of us shared a small bowl of sukuma wiki (greens) and an even smaller bowl of kuon (corn meal mush). Barry and I made a pretense of eating in order for the others to have more.  Even Kit was aware of the shortage of food and ate only a little. And all were aware that we were not going to beat the rain. Just as we were finishing lunch the rain began to pour. It wasn't a hard rain but for over an hour it rained moderately. We waited patiently in Kasuku's mud house and continued our fellowship, everyone hoping the rain would stop quickly and that the sun would shine strongly in order to dry out that treacherous hillside before we had to depart, but this was not to be so. It was still sprinkling as we started to descend into the ravine, now with at least and inch thick layer of slime under out feet.
        Barry went first, gingerly stepping on his crushed heel. Kit followed on a five-point base of support (two hands, two feet, and his little boodle). His momma followed in the same manner. The Luos followed momma, laughing almost uncontrollably as they descended on two bare feet each. By the time we reached the vehicle we were head to toe covered with mud. Time to pile in. We were taking someone else along part of the way so the car was very full. What was a narrow but not too difficult route at 10:30 in the morning when the sun was still shining had turned into a nightmare. We had only driven about 50 yards when the car slid off the path, stopping an inch short of a 30-foot straight down drop into the ravine we had just traversed on foot. Slooooooowly... (each of us holding his breath) we crawled out of the precariously positioned vehicle. Kasuku and family had already bid us goodbye but they came running back to help. The men conferred for a few minutes and decided that Barry could drive while four of them stood on the ravine side and kept the car from falling over. I was not so sure about that! I am so thankful for a husband who understands gravity better than the Luos. He called for a hoe and then proceeded to show them how to dig a track for the wheels on the uphill side of the path. An hour later, Barry climbed very carefully back into the vehicle and, attempted to drop the wheels into the track and drive to a safer spot while the rest of us stood in a cornfield, knee deep in mud, and sent up prayers for success. It worked!  And we were on our way, so we thought...
        We had only gone another 100 feet; Barry turned onto a narrow path of wet grass between two cornfields and tried to proceed slowly. That didn't work. The car slipped off the wet grass and immediately mired down to its' axles in the cornfield. Kasuku and family came running back a second time to help and the next hour and a half was spent digging, hauling rocks and tree branches, pushing, straining and maneuvering to try to get us back onto the grass path.  Some of the Christians, some neighbors and some of our passengers were beginning to lose heart and give up. They were covered in mud, had worked so hard but saw we were getting nowhere. We ourselves did not see how we would get out before the cornfield completely dried out (maybe in another two months).  Remember! We were miles away from a telephone, tow truck, tractor, or even another vehicle. And of all things... we could see the rain coming again just over the top of one of the surrounding hills. It was coming quickly and was just behind his head when Kasuku took over. We are so proud of his maturity in Christ. He lined up his eight helpers and said, "There is only one way we are going to get them out of here. We must affirm to God that we are together in our faith that He will not allow the rain to reach here until we get these people of God out of this cornfield." Starting with his own wife, he pointed to each of the helpers and made them repeat aloud their statement of faith in God's ability to solve this problem, and then they got ready to push one more time. Two minutes later we were up on the grass path. The rain never reached us that time (and it had been so close). I stepped out of the car to let the passengers get back in, looked up at the sky, and behold a gorgeous rainbow was just above us.
        We hopped into the car again, waved goodbye to the filthy but faithful Kasuku family and continued down the path, marveling at what the faith of a mustard seed can do. Kasuku taught us a lesson that day. That was not the end of a difficult trip though. When we turned off the path and onto the aud road again we found that it was in terrible shape too. The rain had turned it into sheet of slippery mud. Driving 25 mph we fishtailed all the way back to James' brothers house in the lambwe valley to pick up a few things for James and Rose Tindi. It was dark by then. We had been out for over twelve hours and had had almost nothing to eat or drink. James loaded two oil drums and a metal frame bed onto the top of our car and we were back on the road, sliding and swaying down about 18 more miles of mud road. We had gone about half way when the ropes broke and the bed fell off the car. We all piled out again for the millionth time and proceeded to tie the bed back on. But before getting back into the car, the four of us reaffirmed aloud our faith that God would see us home safely. When I think back now I can't help by thank God for that wonderful lesson, especially for the eyes, ears and heart of a four year old.
        The rest of the trip to James and Rose Tindi's was uneventful.  Kit even managed to sleep a little. But before we left Roses house I asked her not to forget that we had affirmed our one faith in a safe trip home and reminded her that we (Barry, Kit and I) were not home yet.  She said she would pray for us.  And it was a good thing too . . . for just a few more miles down the road Barry and I were involved in a head on, hit and run collision.  A BANG just in front of us, head lights coming at us, a quick swerve to the right, yanked back to the left before we tipped over, and then down another embankment.  We were not hit, not hurt, and the car was not even scratched.  Faith as a mustard seed can even save a life. The other vehicle was not so lucky. He had been hit by a 3-ton flat bed truck, which never even stopped. The side of his car was torn right off, and he went down a much steeper embankment on the other side of the road. The three passengers were unhurt. Before getting out of our car, we sent up a prayer of thanksgiving and then proceeded to help the other vehicle.  At 10:30 that evening of "just a normal Sunday", we arrived home in one piece and were still able to smile. Thanks to Him.
        When was the last time you used faith as a mustard seed? Try it! It works!
 

We love you and pray for you,
 

Barry, Stacy and Kit