It never fails to amaze me that Tom Logan always finds a way to top my previous years’s experience. It is as if he says to himself what challenge can I give Joel this year to overcome. I’ve come to envision Tom as God’s foreman in the field in charge of accomplishing the difficult, the extraordinary, the impossible and the miraculous.
Every year at our farewell dinner Tom asks where we saw Jesus. I saw him every day in a different disguise. In Zambia he appeared as Immanuel (God with us), my machete wielding well installation supervisor who guided my Toyota land cruiser, field officer and me through uncut, virgin bush- meaning no foot path, no road, no oxcart path- just an assured knowledge that he knew where he was leading us even as we dodged a mine field of punji sticks (tire busting tree spikes), zigzagged around trees we could not chop down, and all the while praying that he really knew where he was going and that we would not break down in the middle of nowhere. It occurred to me that it would be difficult to give directions for my rescue without any sense of where we were and no visible landmarks. Suddenly a road emerged out of nowhere. God was with us.
Another day, he appeared as Richard, one of my field officers. When I questioned where he wanted me to exit the dirt road for a one foot wide footpath with no signs of a previous tire driven vehicle having gone this way before; his response was that I should just pretend that it was a road and thus all would be well. A lesson in faith if ever there was one. So we did, we drove to the well site, installed the well and exited the same way. I have found that the answer to doing the impossible is simply to remember that all things are possible with Christ. You just have to believe! God speaks, you listen, trust and follow, simple to understand, difficult to execute. That is the MMM way.
Hand dug 31 foot deep wells are hard to dig, hard to pump, hard to install. I had serious reservations as to how effective this well might be. My doubts did not deter a young mother from eagerly grabbing the pump handle as she proceeded to pump clean clear water with ease, a smile on her face, overflowing joy clearly evident. Villagers danced with joy, mothers young and old sung praises for the gift of maji (water), prayers of thanksgiving were offered. Today the difficult became extraordinary Jesus was here without a doubt.
After four years in three different countries in various districts I am an old hand at bush driving, well installation and dedication. This year has been much like other years, the villagers responses are the same, the challenges the same- just a different setting, yet every time we complete an installation and that clear sparkling water starts to flow I’m moved. I’ve just witnessed another miracle. Some may argue that it hardly qualifies as one- my response is don’t try telling that to a villager who knows the difference between water which gives life and that which causes death and disease. They have attended too many funerals of children who have died from bad water. The writing on the well- Glory to God says it all. Once again, my soul has been restored. How fortunate am I to have been a part of this.