I've been thinking about a conversation I had last week with a Zimbabwean woman who lives in Dallas. We initially became acquainted via the wonderful world of Facebook. As I quickly discovered, she’s a very talented artistic person with a great deal of diversity and has a kind and gentle spirit that is deeply burdened for her nation. Like so many in the Diaspora, she longs to see her people set free from the tyranny of political oppression and once again on the road to personal and national healing.

I was deeply moved when a few minutes into our conversation she said with surprise, "You know, we all thought that you were a Zimbabwean. Everyone's talking about you and your book, but we thought you were Zimbabwean because you write like one!"  Honestly, for a minute I was really choked up. That statement for me was such a huge compliment.

For those in my very inner circle of friends, they know the anxiety I’ve had over writing “Saving Zimbabwe”. While I knew I had to tell the story, the fact that I was a white guy from middle America seemed to me to be a huge problem. In fact I argued with God about the logic of it up to and during my last trip to South Africa in Sept of 2009. It was in a rather vulnerable moment that I shared with a trusted friend my fear of being misunderstood and labeled as a "know-it-all-American." He looked me straight in the eyes and said with a great deal of conviction, "You are the only one who could have told this story as you have nothing to gain or lose by it." It was in that one poignant moment that my soul seemed to finally find peace as he was right.

The only thing I want out of this is to see the people of Zimbabwe free to pursue the destiny that God has for their nation. I feel strongly that it is a significant one!  At the moment there is a battle over who will determine Zimbabwe's future. Will it be God or will it be men? The choice is really in the hands of Zimbabwean people.

The situation in Zimbabwe 30 years ago was not altogether different from one in Israel 3,000 years ago. The historical record in 1 Samuel 8:4-17 records that...

All the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah. They said to him, “You are old, and your sons do not follow your ways; now appoint a king to lead us, such as all the other nations have. But when they said, “Give us a king to lead us,” this displeased Samuel; so he prayed to the LORD. And the LORD told him: “Listen to all that the people are saying to you; it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king. As they have done from the day I brought them up out of Egypt until this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so they are doing to you. Now listen to them; but warn them solemnly and let them know what the king who will reign over them will claim as his rights.”

Samuel told all the words of the LORD to the people who were asking him for a king. He said, “This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots. Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants. He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants. Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves.”

From my perspective, this is the same choice Zimbabweans made 30 years ago. Things looked so promising back then and yet now 30 years later, the dream has evaporated but for an elite few. One of the questions that “Saving Zimbabwe” addresses is why did the dream become a nightmare?  Another one is how do we get things back on track? While the early pages of the book may be a challenge emotionally, they are the thoughts and feelings of many who have been affected by the developments in Zimbabwe. If God is allowed to have any say in the matter, the future of Zimbabwe is a bright one. “Saving Zimbabwe” is about the hope He brings to the people and to the nation.

As some of you may already know, for the last year we have been working on a project called "Compassionate Hands." Our goal has been to send over to Zimbabwe a 40' container filled with medical supplies. As I’m writing this, I’m sitting in our warehouse waiting for the shipping container to arrive so we can load our supplies this weekend.  Our whole team is so excited to see this project come to fruition. It truly has been a labor of love with so many different people helping out along the way. Thank you to all of you who gave something.

Now to changing gears. I just had the most interesting sociological interaction that has my mind lost in thought this afternoon. Let me explain…

Our “warehouse” facility is actually in the basement of a building that faces a major street in downtown Kansas City, KS.  As with most all old US cities, the buildings are built right next to each other.  Behind the warehouse is a narrow alley that directs traffic one way. The door for the warehouse opens up into this alley where we load and unload supplies. Soon a large shipping container will arrive and block off the alley for the weekend. At the same time, it just so happens that there is a parking lot adjacent to our building filled with cars of the people who work in the building next door. Wanting to be courteous, I decided to drop in at the company and warn them that a big truck is going to block the one way alley and therefore they are going to have to go in the opposite direction when they leave tonight.

As I approached the front desk there were two women standing behind the counter. One woman was white and definitely the boss. The other woman, an African-American with a friendly disposition, warmly greeted me. I proceeded to tell them what was about to take place and asked if they would mind communicating it with everyone else in the building. What took place next was interesting and quite revealing. The boss’s first reaction was “We can’t do that. We can’t go the opposite way down a one way alley!” She was adamant that this was not the order of things nor a workable solution. Thank goodness the African-American woman jumped in and said “no worries honey, we’ll all adapt.” The other woman with the look of shock on her face then asked “can we do that, can we go the wrong way?” to which her colleague replied “of course we can, we adapt all the time.”

As I turned and walked out the door I realized that in that little moment I was seeing a microcosm of our society. I don’t believe it was a race based issue as much as a socio-economic issue. The obviously wealthier white woman came from a lifestyle that was governed by a measure of predictability and security that her wealth afforded her.  In her world there was a proper way of doing things that if or when the pattern was broken, set off a chain of emotions that started with fear. The other woman, who was obviously much poorer, lives in a world that often times she has little control over. She doesn’t have the economic power to do what she wants, when she wants and is often at the mercy of forces more powerful than she is. She learned to do what she needs to do to survive…adapt!

Here's something to ponder, are the poor actually better equipped to deal with crisis than we are? Are they stronger by virtue of what they've been through and done to survive? Adaptability is a skill set they have acquired in the furnace of affliction. Maybe we have something quite profound to learn from them.

I do think that this plays a significant role in why the African and Chinese Christians that I have met, seem to have a much stronger faith than most westerners I know. We in the industrialized world seem to have more faith in our systems to protect us. When they fail, we hit the panic button and get that "deer in the headlights" look. We have no idea what to do next or how to think on our feet and quickly adapt.

I think that we who consider ourselves strong would be well served to humble ourselves and learn from our bothers & sisters who have been tested in the furnace of affliction. There is a deep strength that develops in ones soul from resistance or situations in life that are unpredictable.

We also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit… (Rom. 5:3-5)

In April of this year, when my Zimbabwean friend Muchengetwa returned from Africa, he recounted the frustrating experience of trying to find a simple catheter for his sick mother. It got me thinking and praying. Predictably, my heart became compassionate and I set out on a mission to figure out how we could help rectify the problem of the lack of medical supplies in Zimbabwe. I soon began contacting friends, associates and organizations that might want to help us out. Between May & August we received three donations which all total filled the back of a minivan. I started getting concerned that at this rate we weren't going to make much of an impact any time soon. I then began praying for God's blessing. Suddenly, in the middle of August I received a call that some contacts in Chicago had supplies for us and suggested that I bring a big truck. In faith I drove up a 26' box truck and they filled it from floor to ceiling, all the way to the back door. As I drove home overwhelmed with their generosity, I realized that I had a big problem. The warehouse space I had been given couldn't contain the amount of supplies that had been donated. I was soon in panic mode. After getting the word out via my trusty iPhone, Mark Seely of Mercy & Truth Medical Missions called to offer us the use of their facility. I was so relieved and thanked him profusely. In the course of the conversation Mark then offered us all of their medical supplies and equipment that they had stored in the warehouse. Suddenly, we had gone from a few boxes of supplies to enough to fill two 40' shipping containers in a matter of 24 hours!  

While this all sounds terribly exciting (after all God did bless us beyond expectation) the reality of the situation is that it has overwhelmed our organizational infrastructure and created a stress level that has left us all exhausted. In light of the massive amount of work involved in our "Compassionate Hands" project, I've been reflecting a lot on the biblical story Luke recounts in Chapter 5. Jesus, wanting to put some space between Himself and the crowds at the edge of Lake Gennesaret, climbed into Simon's boat and asked him to anchor it offshore. From there He proceeded to teach the people who had gathered to listen to Him. When He was done, He suggested to Simon that they go fishing only to be rebuffed by his comment "Master, we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything." I find it interesting that the blessing of God came when they were already worn out and tired. It was about to drive them to a state of even greater exhaustion. God didn't wait for them to get refreshed and be in a good place emotionally. Out of simple respect for Jesus, Simon decides to "let down the nets." What happens next is equally interesting to me as the catch was so large their nets began to break and their boats started sinking! It's fascinating to me that the blessing of God overwhelmed their infrastructure and destroyed the tools of their trade (nets) while almost sinking their boats! The blessing of God can be a costly adventure.

In thinking about this story, it certainly is sheds a different light on the sanitized versions we heard in Sunday school. I wonder if our expectations of God's blessings look a lot more like a nice wicker basket with a beautiful bow and kind note from God telling us how wonderful we are. Truth be told, when the supernatural invades the natural chaos ensues. Things are turned upside down and the order of things gets messed up. I wonder how many of us are really ready to deal with the chaos blessing can bring. As for me, its stretching my boundaries beyond what I even thought possible. I'm in uncharted territory and yet while exhausted, I'm filled with a heart of gratitude for the goodness of God.

A number of you have asked me why I disappeared from the blogoshere the last few weeks. Honestly, I needed to step away from things for a bit and let the last 30 days of life settle in my soul. On the third day home from South Africa, I woke up with the strangest sensation that I had dreamed the whole trip. As I laid in bed pondering the last 30 days of life, the events I recall happening were so surrealistic it all felt like a dream to me. I actually had to get up and read my own blog to reassure myself that it was in fact all true. At that point I had a sense of the "fear of God" come over me. I had left for Africa on a mission to open doors for the book and get my medical supplies into Zimbabwe. Once I got over there, I suddenly realized that God had gone before me and had already prepared the way. I was greatly humbled by the whole experience and yet found it profoundly reassuring.

As a twenty year old I was told by a wise old man "you can't drive a 10 ton truck over a 1 ton bridge." He was addressing my youthful enthusiasm in attempting to accomplish significant things for God without the developing the necessary strong relationships. It took me another 20 years to figure out how wise his words were. Along life's highway I have a number of regrettably collapsed bridges! In going to South Africa my focus was not on "what" I was doing there but "who" would God bring across my path. As I look back, I'm astounded at the quality relationships that developed during my time there. I feel a sense of deep gratitude to the people of South Africa for their not only embracing my story but me as well. I look forward to returning in 2010 to continue on this amazing journey...with my friends!

While I was in a state of dreaminess for a few days, the reality that we had boxes full of medical supplies in a warehouse that needed to be unpacked, sorted and repacked woke me up fast. Elizabeth did a great job of communicating with people and on Saturday Oct. 24th we had over 20 people show up to help us. The task in front us is daunting only because of the large generosity of others. We have enough medical supplies to fill two 40 ft shipping containers! Our warehouse space suddenly looks very small. As boxes were opened to see what was inside, our team of nurses determined if what was in there was usable in Zimbabwe. Hospitals and supply companies will sometimes pack unusable things in boxes just to get rid of them. One doesn't know until a box is opened what if anything is usable. Our experts were thrilled to see that most everything we had been given could be used. We still end up with about 20 trash bags of stuff to toss out though. This is probably as good a time as any to mention we are in desperate need of a pick-up truck. My car just doesn't function well as a trash removal, supply pickup vehicle. If you are looking for a way to contribute, funds for a truck would be so helpful.

Next week I will be in the warehouse everyday preparing for our second sorting day on Nov. 7th. I also learned this week that a group of nurse trainees would like to come in Weds-Fri to do their "community service" requirements by helping us out. That should be interesting and we sure have a lot of work for them to do. We are so grateful for all your help in this endeavor. These supplies will make a huge impact on thousands of peoples lives.

As crazy as it sounds, I just realized this morning that I’m going home tomorrow! For some reason I had it in my head that I was leaving on Tuesday the 20^th. That’s actually the day I’m supposed to arrive in Kansas City. I’m sure glad I noticed that before totally embarrassing myself at the airport. Of course Elizabeth would have been none too happy when I was a no show at the KC airport.

I have such mixed emotions as I write this. On the one hand, I’ve missed not having Elizabeth with me on this journey and having her share in all that has happened. I’m so looking forward to going home and seeing her and talking about all that has unfolded. On the other hand I’m feeling a ting of sadness.  The many new and rekindled relationships that have developed here having me feeling like I’m leaving behind family. The one thing that gives me solace is that I’m coming back next year to see everyone!

I can’t thank all of you here in South Africa enough for being such wonderful hosts. Thank you for sharing your nation and yourselves with me. I have had an incredible time here, one that has left an indelible impact on my life. I can only pray that I too have left something of the heart of God with all of you. Until we meet again…may God smile on all of you and show you His tender mercies everyday!

At 9:00 AM this morning I received a call that Vinko Coetzee was here to see me. I had not met Vinko before today but he too is connected to the story of The Community of Reconciliation. How we discovered each other is a story all in itself…

Back in 1991, I was helping Ken Gullickson plant a Vineyard Church in Santa Monica. I met a young man in the congregation by the name of Brad Cummings. Brad was a young film student at Pepperdine who had this sense of presence about him. You knew that God’s hand was on his life and some day he would do something significant. We spent many hours talking about the teachings of Jesus and the Christian journey the couple years we were together. Over time we lost touch with each other until earlier this year when we reconnected via Facebook. As we swapped stories, I discovered that he is now the President of Windblown Media who published The Shack. I was so thrilled to hear his story as it is one filled with the unexpected and miraculous. When Brad found out I was going to South Africa he suggested that I contact a guy named Stephan Vosloo who might be interested in my story. Stephan met me for a few hours at the Cape Town airport on the way out of town a few weeks back. We had a wonderful time getting acquainted. In the course of the conversation, he mentioned to me that he had a friend that was somehow involved with The Community of Reconciliation. A week later Vinko called me to ask if we could meet.

As we sat today and shared our journeys, I quickly realized just how deeply Vinko had been affected by the people of The CoR. The tears tricking down his cheeks as he talked was the first clue. We spent the next few hours sharing our experiences and how the martyrdom of our friends had affected us over these many years. He filled in a number of gaps in the story for me as he lived on the community afterwards in the effort to try and rebuild it. Sadly, even with the best of intentions, they couldn’t recapture what the original group had. It seemed that the grace for The CoR had died with them. I shared with Vinko something that I learned a few days ago from Thabani. Earlier this year, Charles Masuku the leader if the squatter encampment, who was the driving force behind the raid that killed my friends, was killed by the hands of his own brother! I couldn’t help but think of the saying “what goes around comes around.”

As Vinko and I were winding things down, Matt & Jen Marais walked in the door fresh off their flight home from Bali. The newlywed couple had come over to the Davis’s to collect their things and begin the process of setting up house. I said my good-byes to Vinko and started loading up my car with various bits and pieces that Matt had stored at his apartment. He certainly hasn’t wandered far from home as they have leased a place just a few properties down from the Davis’s on St Patrick Rd. It’s set on a very quaint estate with large beautiful trees all around. I stayed for a few minutes while we caught up with each other and then headed back to my place for a nice quiet evening. I have had so many marvelous and unexpected experiences on this journey. I think I’ve reached the point of saturation; it’s as if my soul cannot possibly hold one more thing. It’s time for me to go home now and ponder all that has happened this last month. I have so much to think about. I’m missing Elizabeth terribly and look forward to snuggling up in chair and watching a movie together. Of course as always, Elizabeth will fall asleep but that’s OK, I will enjoy just holding her.

Thabani came by this morning to pick me up and we headed over to East Gate Mall to spend a few hours with Tatenda Gunguwo of Voice of Peace in Zimbabwe. While we waited for Tatenda to arrive, I ducked into a Barber Shop to get my hair cut as I was looking a bit scruffy. I figured that with me having been gone a month and going home soon, Elizabeth probably wouldn’t want to kiss someone that looked like a homeless person.

Tatenda soon arrived and I introduced him to Thabani. We then headed off in search of a restaurant that would put up with us for the next few hours. Once we settled in, our conversation was a fascinating mix of sharing our stories and strategic planning for the future. Tatenda, Thabani and I all share a similar journey in that we have had to suffer great loss in our lives and it has shaped us in significant ways. In Tatenda’s case, as a 10 year old boy he had to watch while soldiers tortured and then killed his father for refusing to force his sons into the military. Tatenda was the youngest of nine boys and one girl in the family. After a lost childhood and rebellious adolescence, while in pursuit of a young women who went to church, God captured his heart. Soon it was clear that this young man had a calling on his life. His 20’s were spent working for the Ministries of Education & Health while staying heavily involved with his church. Soon though he felt this call to the rural areas of Zimbabwe where few went because there was no money or fame there. He would set up his tent for weeks on end and share his faith with any and all who would listen. Soon he found himself in the company of orphans who had no place to stay and asked if they could sleep under his tent with him. His heart was so moved by their plight that when he packed up his tent and returned to Harare, he took the boys home with him.

Things have grown substantially since those days. With the addition of a dynamic wife (Lucia) and children of their own, Voice of Peace now cares for over 200 orphaned children in 4 locations. Things have not been easy. During last year’s elections in Zimbabwe, Voice of Peace had 3 of their pastors killed as well as staff members raped and children abused. Tatenda recounted one night while returning home from another part of the country, he walking in the house only to find over 60 terrorized people huddled in the dark. At one point the military actually came in and took over one of the orphanages, using it as a base from which they could terrorize the community. While the violence has calmed down, the country is still in disarray. Voice of Peace is actively involved in helping keep people alive through agricultural training and medical clinics in the rural areas. Teaming up with Farming God’s Way, VoP is in the process of distributing 4 tons of seed to be planted and harvested during the next growing season. Tatenda shared that while working with the Ministry of Health, he was shocked to find out how little health care was available in the rural areas. VoP started doing medical clinic’s there and the need was so desperate that hundreds of people would come walking distances of 100 km or more. While healing their bodies, Tatenda would share the message of the Gospel and soon churched were popping up wherever they went.

If further funding comes in, Compassionate Justice would like to send 2 shipping containers to Zimbabwe. One would help set up a mobile clinic base in Harare that would operate both as a working clinic on one of the orphanages as well as a staging facility for mobile clinics. Phase 2 will be outfitting a school bus as a mobile clinic and shipping it over in 2010. This will substantially increase the amount of supplies, equipment and personal that can go out on any mobile clinic. The thing that stands out when talking to Tatenda is that he is a healer. He’s healing the emotional scars of abandoned and lonely children. He’s healing people’s bodies through medicine and prayer. He’s healing the land by teaching people how to care for it.

Today time stood still for a moment as I was reunited with an old friend from 25 years ago. When I first traveled to Zimbabwe in 1984, I was introduced to a young African man who was fluent in English and as curious about Americans as I was about Ndebele’s. Thabani Dube and I became close friends within hours of meeting each other. I learned more about the soul of Africa from him than anyone else I had met along my journey of discovery. Our friendship, despite the extreme cultural differences, was natural and easy. Somehow we just “understood” each other. Our conversations were always so honest and transparent. When I would lay in bed at night, I would think a lot about the things we talked about. Then Nov. 25^th 1987 hit and our lives were thrown into utter chaos. After burying my friends and leaving Africa, I was completely lost and never returned. This current trip is the first time I’ve been back since that fateful day. Thabani, who was being groomed to take a leading role at The Community of Reconciliation, was left devastated trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered dream. We lost touch with each other until earlier this year when I was given his email address by a mutual friend. We started corresponding and when the South African trip developed, we decided to get together. He’s been away working in the Congo and just returned in time to meet today.  It’s been an amazing day as we’ve spent the whole time together catching up on each other’s lives and our story’s. Though he has less hair and added a few years, he hasn’t lost his hunger for truth and understanding. It felt to me like time had stood still and we picked up right where we left off in 1987. It was strange really. I’m a bit awed by it.

Thabani has been on quite a personal journey and one eerily similar to my own. As he sat here today and shared his glorious victories and humiliating defeats, I couldn’t help but see the hand of God on his life. He has walked the road less traveled on the back side of the desert as God has honed him. Despite several setbacks, he has time and time again picked himself up and moved forward. He has a story similar to that of the biblical Joseph who stayed faithful even when falsely accused or forgotten. God has honored him and he now has a wonderful career in health care. He started out as an ambulance attendant in 2000 and has worked his way up to being a top paramedic. I’m so proud of him! One of the questions that he has wrestled with is, other than providing for his family, is there any other Divine purpose for these medical skill sets that he has acquired. You should have seen the look on his face when I told him about our Compassionate Hands medical supplies project! He was ecstatic and immediately volunteered to help. I couldn’t have been more pleased at his excitement as he is in Zimbabwe regularly and has numerous contacts within the health care industry in Africa. I could not have imagined that after these many years God would allow us to work together again to help the people of Zimbabwe.

Then, if that wasn’t enough, I received a call from Richard Ndlovu the Administer at Mtshabezi Hospital where some of the medical supplies will be going later this year. Something had developed and he had to come to Johannesburg at the last minute. He wanted to know if we could meet so I put him on the phone with Thanbani and they figured out a place we could all talk. Turns out it was in Thabani’s truck at a BP Gas station down the road. There in that little truck we had the most wonderful time getting acquainted. Richard was so excited not only to get a copy of the book but meet Thabani who is such a significant part of the story. Then when they realized how close the hospital was to where Thabani goes to look after his family every few months, they set up a time to get together in early November. Thabani is going with his video camera to shoot some film so we can use it to tell the hospitals story. Imagine sitting back and watching all this come together. By now you’d think I would think amazing is normal but I’m still is awe of God’s fingerprints.

I didn’t sleep well last night as my mind was obsessing over the many things I need to finalize before leaving on Tuesday. I hate it when I have this sense that I’m going to forget something! It’s going to frustrate me even more if I get on the plane and while over the Atlantic, remember what it is I forgot. My mind was on a mission of its own last night to try and figure out what that one thing I've forgot might be. It was a waste of time as I came up with absolutely nothing and there probably is nothing just paranoia!

This morning Trevor Dalton drove over to Houghton to pick me up to get acquainted over some coffee. There’s a little café not too far from where I’m staying and I ordered a Chai Latte which was quite nice. Trevor (who actually lives near Durban) contacted me three weeks ago after reading the Saving Zimbabwe article in JOY Magazine. He has a passion for authentic Christianity lived out in tangible ways and was gripped by the story of The Community of Reconciliation. I enjoyed getting to know him and hearing his story as well. Like all the “Joseph’s” I’ve met, he has been forged by life’s unexpected twists and turns and God has used these circumstances to shape him. Trevor’s is a CPA by trade and his present energies are directly on his company Tax Governance. He helps corporations with their tax liability problems hopefully saving them lots of money. After 3 hours of discussing “The Road Behind,” we spent the last hour discussing “The Road Ahead.” Trevor has kindly volunteered to help me establish an NGO presence here for Compassionate Justice International. This will allow us to keep gifts, donations and funding from South Africa for Zimbabwe here in the country.

I then spent the afternoon meeting with various people that are or have access to key components in helping us practically establish a CJI-Africa. As things develop, we will have the infrastructure in place to handle whatever opportunities come our way. While I have no idea where this road I'm on leads, wisdom seems to dictate that having a vehicle is prudent.

I'm really looking forward to tomorrow. I will see my dear friend Thabani for the first time in 22 years! It was through his kindness and patience that on my first trip to Africa I learned what it meant to be African.

I woke up this morning with such conflicted emotions. On the one hand I’ve been gone 3 weeks and looking forward to returning home and seeing Elizabeth. From the sound of her emails, I think she’s ready for me to get back home as well!!!  On the other hand, I only have 6 days left here in South Africa and so much yet to accomplish. My mind is moving at warp speed trying to make sure I complete everything I need to get done while I’m in the country. Despite the sense of being way behind, I have an overwhelming sense of gratitude to God for the many new relationships that have developed over my time here. South Africa has some really marvelous people with good hearts and I look forward to working with them in the months and years ahead. What does my soul good is that these are developing friendships not just strategic partnerships. I like how that feels!

This morning I headed back to Centurion for a meeting with Kobus van Niekirk the head of YWAM Africa. It was the first time we had met and I enjoyed getting to know him over some coffee and a muffin while looking over what’s left of Centurion Lake. Kobus & Rika have been YWAMer’s since the mid 1970’s and therefore seen the whole development of YWAM Africa to where it is today. YWAM has a presence in over 40 African nations with a staff of over a 1,000 people. As we shared our personal stories, it soon became evident that we are both men who God has directed down paths that were not of our own choosing. We have had to embrace the purpose of God that at times it has been painful. Despite that, both our stories have a redemptive element woven into them as God takes what was meant for evil and turns it into good. As we discussed Zimbabwe, we concluded that if one was to look at the situation there naturally it would seem like a lost cause. Yet because of our personal stories we are both keenly aware of how God frequently takes that which is lost and discarded and uses it in the most profound ways. We both have a great love for the people of Zimbabwe and refuse to give up on seeing the nation transformed.

From Centurion I drove to the Sandton area to meet with Dianne Featherstone. Dianne, who is an ex-pat Rhodesian, contacted me some months ago via Facebook and we began a dialogue on The Community of Reconciliation and Zimbabwe. As I learned today, Dianne grew up in the Bulawayo area and lived just down the street from the Russell family. The Russell’s had a swimming pool in their backyard that the neighborhood kids all hung out at. Though she was already living in South Africa at the time of the massacre, the deaths of her childhood friends left an indelible impact. Dianne currently works in the world of procurement with Zimbabwe being one of the destinations for the supplies she finds. She has kindly volunteered to help me with whatever I need for Zimbabwe as she has a wealth of information and contacts. I was most grateful for her offer.

From north Sandton I headed to the center of the city where the Deutsche Bank Foundation is located to meet up with Colin Brown and give him a Saving Zimbabwe book. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know Colin and look forward to seeing how we can partner on some Zimbabwean humanitarian projects in the days ahead.