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Among the Malagasy People of Madagascar Go ... and make disciples of all nations |
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| Volume 19, Number 5 | May 2004 |
| The Barry Rosie family have worked on the mission field in Africa for more than 18 years under the oversight of the: |
Church of Christ c/o Phillip Young 140 C.R. 170 Corinth, MS 38834 |
Eugene Holland - 662-287-1721 Jerry Bates - 662-287-3351 |
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Psalm 9:18,
Sometimes God reaches down and touches the heart of a person, and if that person is willing, God uses that servant to complete His will, which 100% of the time contains a wondrous and joyful little miracle, not a supernatural type miracle, but the miracle of the love of God passed from one heart to another. I feel so privileged to witness it.
We have friends,
a brother and sister in Christ, whom we have known for years. They
helped to get the Rosie family onto the field more than eighteen years
ago. We have felt their presence and support in this work for all
those years. They have already done so much to help His Word be spread
among the people of both Kenya and Madagascar. BUT! God has
touched their hearts in a new and altogether different way, and they continue
to be used by Him. They won’t let me tell you who they are.
Once again, they want God to get all the glory and we give Him all the
glory for touching the hearts of these two servants.
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| Do You Remember. . .
. . . me telling you a few months ago that the average Malagasy eats 252 cups of rice per month? Well, this month I’ve been struck by another amazing thing concerning eating in Madagascar. They use such huge spoons! It’s all the better for eating even more rice. Barry went shopping this month for dishes and spoons for the new orphanage. He came home with what he thought was a terrific deal, 150 metal spoons for about $7.00. Men! Mr. Oneida would probably turn over in his grave if he could ever see those spoons that Barry brought home. The workmanship was unbelievably bad, but quality or extreme lack of is not what struck me. It was the sheer size of those spoons. Take one of your teaspoons out of your silverware drawer for a minute. Now take out one of your soup spoons and one of your serving spoons. Nope! Malagasy-eating-rice-spoons are bigger, much much bigger. Barry assured me that what he brought home was standard market size, and he would hear no more of trying to find normal size spoons even when I pointed out that the kids would probably need more rice with such large spoons. I’m glad I don’t eat at the orphanage everyday. Don’t get me wrong. The food there is great, but I already have a big mouth and if I had to use those shovels to eat with everyday, my mouth would be even bigger. |
| this and that
Agape Most of the people of the Ambohimarina congregation come to worship barefoot. They are very poor. We were nervous about asking them to bring food from home so that we can all share lunch together. They call it Agape here, a much more fitting word than potluck, and even more fitting when one watches the poor of the poor gather with meager portions of rice, beans and greens. We didn’t need to worry. Embarrassment was willingly set aside by these new Christians. Everyone brought something and everyone shared in the love (Agape) of a shared day together. Several things struck my heart that day. No one pushed or shoved. We saw clear exhibitions of hungry folks learning to be servants instead of takers. When the meal was finished, Martin made sure everyone was full first before he snuck into the kitchen to scrape up the leavings. I’ve never seen Martin with a pair of shoes on or with anything other than tatters on his back. He has a house full of hungry children but he never asks for a handout. His wife reports that life in their home has changed drastically since they came to know Christ. At the end of the meal the women insisted on washing dishes in basins on the floor (that’s country folk style they told me) even with wide new counters and working sinks in the new orphanage home. It was Agape in the truest sense and it was a wonderful day; wish you could come and join us! |
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| What
can you do?
You can pray!
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| Miniature Missionaries
For the last month I have felt like Abraham must have felt as he climbed that mountain with his son, Isaac, and drew closer and closer to the time to make that ultimate sacrifice, to put God before everything in his life, even that most precious of sons, Isaac. I wonder if his stomach roiled and heaved like mine did, and if he tossed and turned in his sleep like I did. I wonder if he sobbed when he explained to his son why he was tying him up and robbing him of a future. I wonder if his arm felt heavy as he raised it with the knife. I wonder if he raised it very very slowly. I was relating this to a dear friend last week as we wrestled with school problems and Kit. You see, we are convinced that God wants us here in Madagascar. We feel so needed here and find it impossible to imagine doing anything else right now. But we have wondered why God has made this trek through education with Kit such a challenge up to now. I felt like I had to lay Kit and his future on that altar in order to remain here and work for God. First, the boarding school in Kenya refused Kit a place, then the American school in Madagascar politely turned us down when just two months ago they assured Barry that if I would teach at the school then Kit and Havilah could both attend for reduced tuition. Desperate is not enough to describe how we were feeling; hopeless comes closer to the description. As I related this to my friend, she listened attentively with caring and loving eyes, she nodded in understanding, and she rubbed my arm in an attempt to comfort. “Hold on there, Stacy, there is a ram in the thicket somewhere, it’s just well hidden right now. Hold on,” she said. I chuckled but it wasn’t in mirth. It was more like trying not to cry and not knowing what else to do. That was Monday afternoon. I wanted to hold to her words with all my might. On Tuesday near noon we received an email. My first thought was that it was a hoax. I could hardly believe it, but I thought, yes I thought, just maybe, we had finally found the ram in the thicket. The message was three short sentences. It said, Everything is changed. RVA has a place for Kit. Do you want to send Havilah along too? I whooped first, I jumped to the telephone second to alert Barry, and then I ran to the bathroom and took care of tension that needed to find its way out. I then bowed to the Father and offered thanksgiving and asked forgiveness for my impatience. I can’t thank Him enough for providing that ram in the thicket. So, one of our miniature missionaries will stretch his wings in Kenya come September, and we are trying very hard to arrange finances and trim the budget so that the second miniature missionary can go along too. Havilah is still young and she excels in home schooling comfortably, but she begs to go to school with other children, and our greatest fear is that if we don’t get her into RVA now, then we may not get her a place there in the future. We are warned by the school that each year there are more and more students wanting a place. RVA also tells us that soon they will refuse students who are only home schooled. Please don’t forget to thank the Father along with us this week for his love for the Rosie family as we try to put Him first. |
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B.P. 7554 Antananarivo 101 Madagascar Tel. 011-261-32-02-081-14
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We welcome you to join us in this work for Him . . .