My thoughts (Melody Merida):

On our last full day in Uganda we were exhausted and completely spent. There wasn’t one of us who didn’t want to go home. We were eager to take a shower, to drink a cold beverage, to wear something other than a skirt. But we didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to take a cruise down the Nile River to view the breathtaking Murchison Falls, which was showcased in the film Out of Africa.

As we slowly made our way down the river we were greeted with some of the most amazing wildlife I’m sure I will ever see. There is nothing like seeing hippos only a few yards away charging toward your boat. Words can’t describe the feeling I got in such a setting.

Click any image to enlarge.

At the start of our boat ride we could barely contain ourselves so we spoke incessantly. “Look at this!” “Oh, did you see that?!” The 13 of us could scarcely believe our eyes. But about an hour into the ride we began to settle down and soak in everything we were experiencing. Things grew a bit quieter and in my head I began to sing a song of praise to the Creator of this earth.

In those moments I heard the voice of God speaking to me. The voice came to me when we stopped the boat along the shoreline to view some of the most amazing birds I’ve ever seen; brightly colored, tiny little things singing their songs as they passed over our heads. I was surprised that it was the birds that God used to speak to me because I’m not particularly a fan (I have Alfred Hitchcock to blame for that). But there was no mistaking the message I was receiving.

As I watched the birds I knew that God’s love for me, for all of us, was immense. God didn’t have to create those birds so beautifully adorned; God didn’t need to make thousands of species of birds with bright reds, greens, blues, and yellows. But God did because of such enormous love for us; so that we could live in a world of great beauty. This is precisely what I heard God whispering in my ear — that this beautiful earth was created for me and for you! What love is this?! For many of these species of birds their coloring serves no purpose other than to delight the human eye. God’s love for us knows no bounds. Even the birds of the air whisper sweet nothings in our ears.

Thought for the day: Take a look at the beauty of creation around you and pause to recognize God’s love for you within its splendor. “This is for you, my child,” whispers God within every song a bird sings. Stop and listen.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to get started, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

As you read, consider: What might God be saying to me? Summarize your thoughts in a sentence or two.

My thoughts (Tammy Roby):

During our recent trip to Sudan I was moved during a visit to the Camboni boys’ boarding school in Narus. The school compound was surrounded by a fence that was in serious need of repair. On the inside of the fence were 915 students ranging in age from 5 to over 20 years old. The school was staffed with only 20 full time teachers.

The boys were so excited to see visitors that they came running toward the bus. As we exited the bus, small children looked at us with wide eyes and out stretched hands. As we entered a dark classroom, our hosts had moved to one side of the room so that we could sit with them. The desks were in need of repair, and the chalkboard had been written on and erased so many times it was difficult to read.

As our meting with the environmental club began, they discussed their efforts to increase shade with planting of trees. One young gentleman, a tall lanky boy, spoke about the challenges they faced in planting and nurturing the newly planted trees. After the meeting we were invited to tour the schoolyard where the trees had been planted. During the tour, the outspoken young man from the classroom told us his story. He stated that he had served in the military and was now coming back to school in his 20′s. He and his two brothers were all in Primary School Level 8. During this dialog he was asked if he planned to go to secondary school next year. To our surprise, he paused and the responded with, “I hope to.”

Boys from the Camboni School.

The tree seedlings need protection from the scorching sun.

Education is a luxury in Sudan. Many families cannot afford to feed their children, so the cost of schooling is out of the question. Even the children who attend school have very little opportunity unless they choose to leave their families, as the employment opportunities within Sudan are limited. But even with such dismal conditions surrounding the school, the attitude of the school children was upbeat. The children were eager to learn and to grow.

The students at the boy’s school had hope for a better life. They reminded us to recognize and be thankful for our blessings. They showed us that faith can bring light to any darkness. The boys we met were making the best of what they were given even though they faced adversity daily.

Every day I interact with people who face much less adversity in their lives than these boys do, but do not realize just how blessed by God they are. Each of us can learn a lesson from the Sudanese about how faith in God gives us the hope of a better tomorrow.

Thought for the day: “Afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair…” Thank you, God, for this hope we have in You.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to get started, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

The title for today’s Be Still and Know was taken from a speech by Harvey Milk.

As you read, consider: What might God be saying to me? Summarize your thoughts in a sentence or two.

My thoughts (Melody Merida):

It was our last night in Nimule before heading home to the states. Our gracious hosts had decided they wanted to throw a community party in our honor. We made our way to the center of the cluster of tukuls (traditional African homes) where there was a feast spread for us. It was the usual fare: kasavah, goat meat, tomatoes, rice, beans, beef, and potatoes. After much ado in the way of welcome we were invited to fill our plates and eat to our hearts content. We kawajas did as we were told, filled our plates and sat down to share our last meal with our new friends in this border town.

As we sat there eating our dinner, Caesar, one of our hosts, took a seat next to Kristin and asked her if he could see her plate. She lifted her plate and he shoveled a piece of dried fish onto it. As she looked up into his face she saw that he was beaming with pride over his generous gift to her. You see, only the day before he had engaged Kristin in a conversation about tilapia in which Kristin declared her love for the fish. She mentioned this forgetting that a few days before we had seen some of this dried fish in the sweltering heat of the market swarming with flies literally an inch thick. There was no doubt that the fish placed on Kristin’s plate was this same tilapia from the market.

What would Kristin do? Well, she smiled and thanked Caesar then lifted the piece of fish to her mouth taking her first bite. Caesar watched, still smiling, and chatted with her while he ate a piece of his own. She continued to smile at Caesar as he beamed with pleasure at her throughout the meal. To Kristin’s credit, she ate the whole piece of fish.

So, what’s the big deal? We had heard many times before the trip to be careful of what we ate and drank because our digestive systems just couldn’t take much of the traditional food and beverages. But in the name of kindness and kinship, Kristin took a risk. She took that risk because she knew how important it was to Caesar that he shared this pricey food item. He had been generous enough to think of her and provide something for her that he knew she would like even though it was a sacrifice for him.

We can say we have love for one another, but until we are willing to do something outside of our comfort zone for the sake of another, we don’t really know love. Kristin could have politely refused and still been friendly to Caesar, but it would have communicated otherness. By eating with him like this she embraced him and his culture. I think this is exactly what Jesus would do.

Thought for the day: Do I love the way Jesus loved? Step outside of your comfort zone today and do something crazy in the name of love!

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to get started, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

As you read, consider: What might God be saying to me? Summarize your thoughts in a sentence or two.

My thoughts (Becca Huttsell):

Thank God for grace. I thought I felt led to reach out to the people in Sudan and “help” them. The joke was on me. I am the one in need of “help”.

My first Sudan trip in 2008 gave me the opportunity to travel with David Radcliff/New Community Project on a business trip. David was a humble and patient teacher and opened doors of discussion in my mind that I didn’t know existed. He began challenging me on my personal lifestyle practices regarding our environment and how what I do every day directly affects those in Sudan and others around the world. But I was unable to give the environmental aspect of my experience much consideration. I was too overwhelmed with the poverty, famine, disease, stories of torture and rape and visible scars attesting to these atrocities.

Today’s scripture illustrates that God intends for us to be responsible for the earth — to be an advocate for our environment. My return trip to Sudan this year allowed me to see that I am far from following these scriptural promptings. My secretary has long criticized my willingness to begin recycling paper, ink cartridges, and pop cans “for Jesus” as a means of the church gaining financial benefit, when I fail to do it for the pure sake of valuing our sacred earth. Ouch. She has a point. I am finally understanding that God, not just tree huggers, wants me to practice earth friendly practices to benefit all God’s children.

So now I have yet another thing to add to my spiritual and socially aware radar screen. This feels overwhelming. Aren’t I busy enough? Don’t I have enough already to feel guilty about, without adding yet another item to my reasons-I’m-going-to-hell-for-sure list?

I was raised on a farm. It seems like I am constantly being told that the values I was raised with are no longer good. We raised tobacco and apparently sent many people to early graves. We believed in guns and used them often — not a popular thing today. We put chemicals on the ground and crops.

I admit that in today’s world these things don’t sound so great. But as a child fifty years ago we were the salt of the earth. Now even my cows are under attack. Did you know that some say that beef production is the leading cause of global warming? One pound of beef requires more than fifteen pounds of grain and hundreds of gallons of water to produce. If each person in United States would decrease their meat consumption by half, it would free up the equivalent of the Colorado River multiplied by fourteen! Did you know that each day a cow also belches 640 quarts of a potent global warming gas, methane?

I want to be skeptical. But as I look into the kind and gracious faces of our Sudanese brothers and sisters and experience their formidable spirits despite the hardships they endure, I tell myself that I must change my habits if there is even a chance these things are true. How can I waste water here when they have none there? How can I continue to overeat here when they are starving?

So I challenge you to look at your own personal practices and struggle along with me to apply some life-giving changes. How can we reduce our use or lessen our tendency toward having too much “stuff” in general? Pastor Jeff gave a great sermon on this during the What Would Jesus Buy? series and challenged us to rid our homes of items we didn’t need. Reuse instead of buying again. Recycle.

To help assess your own ecological footprint, follow this link and calculate your lifestyle practices, and prayerfully consider where to start or how to expand what you are already doing.

Thought for the day: How might each of us individually, and collectively in our congregations, begin a program of environmental renewal?

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to get started, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

We began writing about our experiences in last week’s Be Still and Know, and we’ll continue for one more week. We hope that you will take something away from these writings that will inspire you to remember our Sudanese friends in their desperate situations. Somehow, some way, we must all learn how to live simply so that these friends may simply live.

Today’s scripture: Exodus 1:1-22 (ESV-text and audio) (KJV) (The Message)

As you read, consider: What might God be saying to me? Summarize your thoughts in a sentence or two.

My thoughts (Elizabeth Keller):

It was our third day of travel, bus-tripping from Kampala, Uganda to Nimule, Sudan. Most of our eyes were closed, attempting to catch some sleep, despite the car-sized potholes, dirty and dusty winds, and sweltering African sun.

Then the moment came and was gone so quickly. My eyes opened to a horrific scene that still haunts me. A bus turned over, grain scattered everywhere, and a young girl lying dead on the side of the road — her body broken, a limb missing. And she was alone. I mean, people were everywhere, surrounding her, but no one noticed her. No one held her in her dying. Our bus full of kawajas (white people) just drove on by.

I have never before seen such a shocking scene. But my African friends have been surrounded by death and dying, always. Stripped of their trees and homes, widowed and orphaned by war, the Sudanese people have too often been forgotten and neglected and left to die. . . alone.

Last month, we celebrated Black History and we honored our black sisters and brothers here who have known a different America, beaten and abused, whipped and hung from a tree to die. . . alone. And in the midst of Women’s History Month, we honor our women and girls who have known a different world, forced into marriage, denied education, sold for sex, bound by chores and children and culture, and are too often. . . alone. And in the midst of the Lenten Season, we remember the One who also died alone, as most of us passed him by. . .

Where is that place within each of us that finally wakes up and opens our eyes to injustice? The midwives Shiphrah and Puah found that place. When the king of Egypt became threatened by the strength of the Hebrew people, he commanded the midwives, “If it is a boy, kill him. . . and throw him into the Nile.”

Yet, these midwives refused. They refused! They refused the highest authority in the entire nation. Can you imagine their courage and defiance? These women — who held no power and who could have died — responded not with hatred or apathy, not with fear or concern for self, but they responded with that place within each of us that is the Divine.

It’s that place where the ordinary does the extraordinary. It’s that place where we see beyond ourselves to feed the hungry, cloth the naked, visit the imprisoned, and welcome the stranger. It’s there, where we will meet the living Jesus.

Thought for the day: Consider the injustices happening in your own community and neighborhood, in your workplace and homeland, beyond our borders and across the oceans. Don’t allow the evening news or front page paper to fill you with indifference. Instead, watch it and read it with eyes wide open. Stop and pray for the things God brings to your heart. Stop and pray for yourself — asking God to free you from any apathy, and instead awaken you to the work we are called to do, in making heaven here on earth.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to get started, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

As you read, consider: What might God be saying to me? Summarize your thoughts in a sentence or two.

My thoughts (Ceci Spence):

As we sat with a group of local Sudanese women and asked about their daily experiences, there was an eerie silence. The women would look around at each other, almost hoping that someone else would speak up. The eyes of the group would focus on the “elected” woman and then slowly she would rise and speak.

She was dressed in her best clothing in order to honor her guests. Often, her emotion would over take her; her voice would grow louder and her expressions animated as she described her struggles, her goals, and her requests. This scene replayed with each group of women we encountered. At the close of each meeting the women would graciously thank us for simply listening to them.

In Sudan, the mere act of being heard is as difficult as daily life is for these women. We witnessed first hand the inability of the uneducated women to communicate without translators, who were most often educated men. We were told stories of the violence against women who chose to speak out. We spoke with young girls at a primary school who spoke so timidly at first that they were difficult to hear. Even when a woman was educated and spoke multiple languages, she was not granted the same status as her male counterparts.

A Sudanese woman’s voice is rarely heard; culture has taught her to remain silent. Her voice may be silenced by her own fear, by the translation of others, by her sheer exhaustion, by the physical force of others, or by lack of an audience.

One of the main objectives of our learning tour was to listen — not simply to hear — but to actively listen. Today’s scripture exhorts us to be engaged in the interests of others. One of the most effective ways to “engage” is to listen. How is it that such a simple thing can be so important? Reverend Thomas G. Steffen put it this way, “…listening helps us fall in love with people we didn’t know we could love.” So the challenge to each of us is to listen as God listens to us, with a genuine interest in getting to know each other.

Thank you to all the brave voices of the women of Sudan who have changed our lives forever. Two in particular stand out to me: Florence from Pageri, who animatedly described raising four children on her own and challenged us to support her educational aspirations so she could continue to survive. Elizabeth, the Toposa woman dressed in a beautiful orange skirt, who waited patiently for her turn to speak and then held nothing back in her descriptions of the group’s troubles with distance to water, lack of resources, and lack of a market for products; eventually walking home from our meeting in the dark.

Florence, a woman from Pageri.

Elizabeth (center) with two other Toposa women.

Thought for the day: Who needs for me to listen to them today? Whose heart can I know better by listening deeply?

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to get started, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.