For the past eight years we have finished our year by going door-to-door in our neighborhood.  We give our neighbors a gospel track and a loaf of banana bread.  We wish them Happy New Year. Historically New Years is more important in the culture than Christmas.  That is why we choose to give gifts at this time.  Banana bread is not in their culture, but they quickly figure out that it is yummy. While they love the bread, they politely put up with our tracks.  Occasionally we stumble across a child of God.  It's a changing audience.  There are many small (as in minuscule) studio apartments interspersed with big houses like ours.  Studio apartment people tend to move frequently.  

This year things were different.  For the first time ever we saw an interest in spiritual things at several houses.  One dad told us he was going to read the track we gave him.  Said he had read the one we gave him last year.  Even read the one we gave his kids when they showed up at Shiloh on New Years Day.  He had questions, but didn't have the time to ask them right now.  We invited him to come to our house any time with his questions.  One lady invited us into her home and had us pray for her.  

We end 2016 encouraged to see that our little year end evangelistic outreach is starting to produce small results.  And we step into 2017 excited about all the possibilities that await us.

The unthinkable is happening.  My trusty laptop is dying.  It started back in September, but all the early symptoms were easily ignore-able.  And then, just four days ago things got serious.  Yesterday I took my laptop to our local computer doctor.  He urged me to get a new one ASAP.  Today things took a turn for the worse.  

But on the "good news" side of the ledger, today we learned of someone who can hand carry a new one out to us in early January.  So Favorite Youngest Son (our very own, very favorite computer guru) is busy picking out just what Dear Old Mom needs.  

I'm knee deep in producing what will be a 30 page document for the government of Cameroon.  It's our biggest computer project of the year.  This is our annual report on all the activities of our Association.  And it's due in January, preferably nearer the beginning of the month than the end.  Well, everything is on hold now as we wait for the new computer to arrive.   

We've been friends for many, many years.  He comes to Shiloh on infrequent spiritual retreats.  But we go back twenty years at least.  This evening when I was registering him in the office, I casually asked how things were going.  That's when the story spilled out. 

He has worked for a Christian organization for a lot of years.  In fact, he's one of their oldest employees.  But these last few years have been difficult to put it mildly.  It's a whole long story and not one to share in this forum.  Suffice it to say, it has not been easy.  While his story is unique, it mirrors a situation we were in some years ago in many significant details.  I was reminding him of our story and he reminded me that he was there.  In fact, during part of that time, he and I were meeting weekly to pray.  And what a blessing and encouragement he was.  Now it's my turn to pray for him.  We're supposed to bear each others burdens.  It's my honor to hold him up before the Throne of Grace.

They boarded the bus in the Far North and began traveling nearly the whole length of the country.  Their destination?  Yaounde and registering their three week old baby girl with the Swiss Embassy.  Partway down on this incredibly long and arduous trip, they received a phone call from the family they always stay with when in town.  Plans had changed.  They would not be able to stay with their friends.  A few frantic phone calls later, while traveling on a bus that was driving in and out of phone connections, they learned about Shiloh.  Yes, we had a room available for the week.  It was our last one.  Yes, the family of five could all fit in the room.  They anticipated an 8 p.m. arrival time.  No problem.  Around 6 p.m. they phoned back to say the bus was now stopping at every little berg to let passengers off and pick up new people.  They couldn't possible arrive at a decent time.  "No problem.  Keep coming.  We'll be here whenever you arrive."  And so it was that at 3 a.m. they finally arrived.  

We came out here to Cameroon all those years ago to serve people.  And this dear family certainly meets the basic requirements.  In the process of serving others, we have been so blessed to meet countless thousands of lovely people from many walks of life, who speak many different languages, and come from a wide variety of countries.  Once again we are being blessed by getting to minister to others.  There is room at this Inn this Christmas season for new born babies and all others.

We've been friends for a lot of years.  Another missionary introduced her to me.  She was a single mom, struggling to make ends meet.  Had a heart for children.  Started a non-profit called Kids Ko-Op.  Taught the children from her village how to make things.  The girls learned to sew.  The boys learned basket weaving and carpentry.  But most importantly, she taught them about the Lord Jesus Christ.  Taught them Bible stories.  Helped them memorize verses.  When they memorized enough scripture, they earned a Bible.  

We teamed up.  Began selling some of the things the children made.  Went to bazaars and other sales.  Found all kinds of creative ways to market their products.  Sometimes we traveled to her village.  It's a long, long ways from Yaounde, but we loved to go there and help out.  We talked with the children, told them Bible stories, too.  Jim repaired all her sewing machines for her.  

And then one day she phoned to announce that she was getting married.  An older widower had asked her to be his wife.  She was overwhelmed at God's great blessing to her.  She had never been married before.  Back before she knew the Lord as her Savior, a traveling salesman convinced her to set up housekeeping with him.  He'd come through the village on sales trip several times a year.  Told her that he was going to marry her just as soon as he could.  So it was OK for them to live together in the meantime.  Shortly after their second baby arrived, she discovered that he had "wives" all over the place.  Their relationship dissolved and she was left to struggle on alone.  When she heard the gospel, she gave her heart to the Lord and began living for Him.  And now she was getting married.

Jim sent me on up into the mountains for the wedding.  I had the honor of attending the paying of the bride price ceremony.  The following day I was there when they went before the mayor for the civil ceremony.  And I was there for the church blessing.  What a delight it was for this dear girl to be marrying a kindly, godly older man.  He owned his own home and had a good retirement income.  They had three delightful years together before his health began declining.

These last years have been difficult for her.  She went from rejoicing in the companionship of a dear man, to becoming his caregiver.  He has gone through one crisis after the other.  Many times he has been near death.  She faithfully and lovingly nurses him back to health and strength.  She has been such an example of godliness for his adult children and for all the rest of us.  But it hasn't been the marriage of her dreams.  

Several medical crisis back she made me promise that I will come and be with her whenever he should die.  None of us know when that will be, but I stand ready to help out my good friend.

The last couple of years I have been phoning her ever 2-3 months, just to see how things are going.  Just to let her know that she is not forgotten.  Just to remind her that I'm still praying for her.  

Today, being Christmas, was a good day to phone her.  She was so overwhelmed that I was still remembering her, still praying for her.  "Oh Ma," she exclaimed, "that's why we are still alive!"  

Wish we lived next door instead of nine long and difficult hours apart. Someday, someday soon, we'll spend all eternity together around the Throne of Grace.

This truly has been the morning after the night before.  All hands were on deck early.  The final four pastors, here on individual spiritual retreats, knew they had to vacate their rooms by 8 a.m. at the latest.  5,000 sq. ft. of floors were swept and mopped.  Four bathrooms were cleaned to sparkling perfection.  Every bed in every room was changed.  New towels were set out.  A bottle of filtered water for each room.  Tables and chairs were put back in order.  Tablecloths washed and hung out to dry.  

We tackled refrigerators, too.  One by one they were unloaded and unplugged, until only one was left in service.  Two turkey carcasses were put in a large pot to simmer for hours.  And all the leftovers were processed and put into another large pot.  Leftover turkey was chopped fine.  As were the buttered carrots.  Add the turkey stock and stir well.  Now at days end we're savoring the most mouth watering turkey soup ever!  When the pot cools down, it's contents will be packed away in freezer containers.  We're envisioning all those future guests who will start their meals with a little bowl of Shiloh's famous leftover soup.  

And now we are ready and waiting.  Waiting for the next group to arrive.  Men from a local church are coming for their Christmas spiritual retreat.  They will be with us until Christmas morning.  They will never know all we have done to be ready for them.  It's just what we do.  And we do it over and over again, year in and year out.  Truth be told, we love what we do and wouldn't change a thing.  Serving others is a great way to live.

He asked me to put some pictures on a stick for him.  Said he wanted pictures of Papa Jim and Mama Alice.  Pictures of our sons.  Pictures of their wives.  Pictures of all eleven of our grandchildren.  And could I please do this favor for him without asking questions?  And have it ready by tomorrow?

I dutifully did as I was told.  While sorting through piles of pictures, I found some wonderful ones of Dan, Tim, and David.  Some perfect ones of their wives.  Terrific grandchildren pictures.  And I also found some memorable photos of Guy, and Francis, and Doris, and Joseph.  Along with their spouses.  And those adorable black grandchildren of ours.  Couldn't resist giving them all to him.  After all, our family spans the ocean.

Well, they broke all the rules.  Did what they are NEVER supposed to do.  They gave us a Christmas present.  After all the special music.  After Papa Jim read the  Christmas story to us.  At the very end of a wonderful program, they presented a rather large gift warped package to us.  We opened it amidst protests.  Reminded them they weren't supposed to do this.  But when the paper came off, we instantly forgave them!  They had put together a beautiful collage of all the pictures of our family.  Of our white family and of our black family.  They had it made up at this shop in town that does top notch work.  Wow!  What a gift!  What memories!  What a treasure!  Now to find the perfect spot to hang it here at Shiloh.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Francis had the day off.  His daughter, Grace had her school Christmas program today.  All good dads and moms were there.

Doris was off all morning.  She was in the hospital having the first of three malaria treatments.  Came to work at noon and was a big help.  She's weak, but was able to peel potatoes and carrots and sweet potatoes.  Then she went home to rest.

Guy didn't come to Shiloh until the early afternoon.  Spent all morning long, and then some, standing in a forever line, waiting to pay our electric bill for this month.  Thank God for Guy!  If he wasn't there, it might fall on ME to pay our utility bills.  He showed up in time to clean two bedrooms.  One was urgent as the next guest was soon to arrive.  Shiloh is all but full tonight.  Only one empty room

Papa Jim was up to his eyeballs and beyond in last minute Christmas present preparations.  In fact he's still at it.  But by all indications, everything will be in readiness before the party tomorrow afternoon.

So that left me to do all the preparations for our annual Christmas party.  And somehow, it all got done.  The gravy is made.  Just needs to be heated at the last minute.  The dressing is ready to pop in the oven a half hour before we eat.  The homemade spiced tomato juice is chilling in the fridge.  Along with all the soft drinks.  And the yummy dessert.  The birthday cake for the baby Jesus is made.  Just needs to be frosted in the morning.  The two turkeys are ready to be stuffed in the morning and then go into the ovens.

But tomorrow everyone will be on deck at 8 a.m., and many hands will make light work.  Guy is ironing table cloths. Mama Alice will set the tables in all their Christmas finery.  That's her specialty.  The potatoes will be cooked and then mashed.  That's a job for Francis.  The buttered carrots will be cooked at the last.  Oh yes, and Mama Alice has to make this wonderful sweet potato casserole.  

Don't you just love Christmas?  It's a lot of work, but a lot of fun, too.  And the memories last a lifetime.

He's a refugee from another African country.  He and his family started coming to our church.  Got involved in the men's group.  Very serious about his walk with the Lord.  They struggle.  Finding it tough to land a job.  Even temporary jobs are hard to come by.  He's a real hard worker. But claims people don't hire refugees.  It's not easy.  But he has his wife, their child, and God.  Together they cling to the God of the Impossible.  

Recently his landlord approached him about the back rent.  Said it had to get paid in full.  Gave a deadline.  Pay up or move out.  Was going to find other renters who would pay their bill.  Couldn't keep going like this.  Enough is enough.

This was his number one prayer request.  Cried out to God all the time.  Asked the men's group at church to pray with him.  Went to the pastor for special prayer.  And Heaven was silent.  The days slipped by.  Nothing.  No work.  No part-time work.  No pennies from Heaven.  Nothing.  That last night he didn't go to bed.  When his little family turned in for the night, he quietly began packing their few belongings.  The landlord said he would be there bright and early in the morning.  He would either pay in full, or out they would go.  The tears were streaming down his face as he talked with the Great I Am.  Told his Heavenly Father he was willing to live out on the street if that was what God had for him.  Only asked that God would protect he and his family.  

As the new day dawned, he received a phone call.  Someone was coming to give him something.  Could he meet them out at the road?  So he went out, not knowing what to expect.  To his utter and complete amazement, he was handed all that he needed to pay his back rent in full!!  What an Awesome, Faithful Almighty God he serves!

And then, just because God is God, and He does what no man could do, that same afternoon someone came to his house with bags full of food.  The joy of the Lord is flowing all over the place at their house!  God is alive.  He is real.  He really does hear and answer prayer.  In His way.  In His time.  For His honor and glory.

Klaus is a missionary.  Lives and works in the northern part of Cameroon. Married to a Cameroonian lady.  Doing a wonderful work for our Lord.  Stays at Shiloh at random intervals when he's in Yaounde.  Great man.  We really enjoy having him at Shiloh.

Max is a medical doctor.  A surgeon with a rare specialty.  The only surgeon of his type in all of Cameroon.  Works at a mission hospital in the northern part of Cameroon.  Comes to Cameroon twice a year.  Always stays at Shiloh his first night back in country.  Always stays at Shiloh his last night in country.  Goes back home to earn lots of money in his chosen field.  Then comes back and invests his unusual talent (and his finances) in the lives of poor people out here.  Warm.  Friendly.  Outgoing.  Everybody loves Max.

Last night Klaus and his niece rode the train down from the North.  Arrived at Shiloh just before ten this morning.  His niece is flying back home tonight.  He's down here just to help her out.  She doesn't speak much French.

Last night Max rode the train down from the North.  Arrived at Shiloh right at ten this morning.  He's flying back home tomorrow night.  Wanted a shower, a nap, a hot meal, and a good night's sleep before catching his flight.

Klaus and Max are both German men.  Klaus and Max both work in the  northern part of Cameroon.  Klaus and Max know many of the same people.  Klaus and Max each travel back and forth by train.  Klaus and Max each always stay at Shiloh when in Yaounde.  Klaus and Max didn't know each other.  Until ten this morning.  When they bumped into each other in the front hallway here at Shiloh.  They became instant fast friends.  They are overwhelmed to discover that they have traveled in the same circles for some years and yet never crossed paths before.

There is a saying around here.  Coined by a Cameroonian pastor.  "Everybody comes to Shiloh to meet!"  This happens all the time.  It's fun to watch from the sidelines.

We're in what we affectionately call "Dirty Season" when we "shovel" dirt!  It's officially called the long dry season which is rapidly morphing into Harmattan.  That's when the Harmattan winds blow off the Sahara Dessert, and the sky turns a dirty shade, and the whole world becomes very dusty and dirty.  It's the only bad time of the year.  But we spice things up with lots of beautiful Christmas decorations (that have to be cleaned before we put them away for next year) and make the best of things. It only gets pretty awful (as in I'm SICK AND TIRED OF ALL THIS DIRT) after the first of the year when we put Christmas away.  Then it's nothing but dirt, dirt, dirt, with no relief in sight until the rains come back.  It takes about three big rains to wash all the dirt out of the sky and off all the trees and plants.  But that won't happen until February, so we get to sit back and enjoy the ride until then!  Not that we're complaining, you understand!  I don't start the serious complaining until early January!!!  We finish off Dirty Season with a massive Spring Housecleaning event that lasts for at least a month, depending on how many guests we have in the house.  All work is done around the edges of them.  Being a little bit crazy, I really love Spring Housecleaning.  But for now we're shoveling a lot of dirt out of the house in the form of dusting, sweeping, and moping. 

Did you hear it?  Were you listening?  Surely the sound traveled all the way across the Big Pond to you.  

When we were younger there was an American singing group known as Sixteen Singing Men.  Well here at Shiloh, we have been entertained all week by "Twelve Singing Men and a Woman".  They have blessed us more than words can tell with their music and in just about every other way.  These are the Cameroonian missionaries with Every Home for Christ.  And can they sing!  One of the men plays the piano and the guitar.  Nearly everyone can play our two drums.  They found our basket full of hand held rhythm instruments, too.  They not only raised the roof at Shiloh, they gave us a foretaste of Heaven.  What a week it's been!

Today I went to visit my good friend Mama Pauline.  Ever since we buried her pastor husband, I have been committed to visiting her once a month.  Widows are quickly overlooked and forgotten.   She is very grateful that I am still thinking of her.

We talked about this and we talked about that.  How hard it was to start all over again.  No longer a wife.  No longer a pastor's wife.  Trying to find her new roll.  Where does she fit in? Having to learn so many new things.  Never in her whole life has she had to change a gas bottle.  We cook on bottled gas here in Cameroon.  But now that she is alone, she has had to change her first bottle all by herself.  Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she missed her husband more than words could tell.  Somehow she managed to connect the new bottle and move on to the next challenge.

Together we discussed the possibility of her starting a new group for other widowed pastors wives.  Said she knew of one not too far from her.  And surely with a little research they could find others.  Maybe they could meet once a month to pray, study God's Word, and discover ways to help each other as they struggle to find their way alone.  This was an exciting prospect.  Gave her something to look ahead to.  Maybe she would be useful again in the future.  As we hugged our good-byes, there was hope in her eyes.

We were sitting in Papa Pollycarp's house out in Eyene getting ready to pray.  In fact, Mama Clair was singing a song and everyone had their eyes closed.  For some reason I opened my eyes in time to watch a giant scorpion walk into the house, without so much as a by your leave.   

We grow them large here in the Rain Forest.  This one was easily 9 inches long.  Our brand of scorpion can live to be six to eight years old.  Truth be told, their sting is virtually harmless.  Forget the siting!  Me?  I'm dying of fright here!!!

Since I was the only one in the room with eyes open, I decided I better alert Guy who was sitting right next to me.  He opened his eyes, shouted, jumped to his feet and quickly grabbed a broom.  With one wack the scorpion became history.  Black guts and body parts went flying across the cement floor.  I've never seen anything like it before.  And may I not live long enough to see it again.  Once was one time to often.

Sometimes life gets a little too exciting out here in Darkest Africa!

They started arriving yesterday afternoon.  One from Bamenda, then from Ngaoundre, next came Buea, and on and on it went.  Twelve in all.  They've come from all over Cameroon for their week long conference.  And they are bringing stories with them.  Stories of civil unrest in Bamenda.  A problem that has been smoldering just below the surface for a very long time.  Now that it is spilling out in the open, it won't be resolved overnight.  Stories from Ngaoundre of the refugee situation.  Refugee camps swollen with children who watched their parents being brutally murdered before their very eyes.  Children who need the love of God and so much more.  The practical needs must be addressed along with the spiritual.  There is no other way to reach them.  Stories from Buea and the police station that was burned to the ground last week as a sign of protest against our goverenment.  Stories from the Central Region of people who are trapped in traditional religion and bound by generations of strife, and above all else, resistance to the Gospel.  In spite of all the challenges from every corner of Cameroon, they are excited to be engaged in this mammoth task.

Every Home For Christ.  Started in the United States 70 years ago.  Came out to Cameroon 15 years ago.  Tasked with an enormous, overwhelming job.  Literally going door to door all over the country with the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.  All are Cameroonian missionaries.  All work full time in this ministry.  All are dedicated to the task, no matter what. 

What a joy, what a privilege, what an honor to host these people here at Shiloh.  They are here for a week.  Eating three meals a day.  Keeping us super busy.  But we wouldn't miss out on this for anything. 

Yesterday was a red letter day in the life of the professor.  He's been coming out here to French speaking Africa for many, many years.  He's a seminary professor, and a very good one at that.  We have had the honor of having him at Shiloh numerous times.  When the professor comes, his students show up at all hours, seeking his help.  So we get to know them, too. But yesterday was the culmination of years of effort on his part.  One of his students received his Doctor of Theology degree!  And the professor returned to Switzerland last night, floating on the clouds.  What a thrill for him to see one of his students complete years of hard work.  He went back home knowing that he has left behind a very well qualified man, able to teach others.  And indeed, he will be doing just that. 

Mme. Mpomo, her daughter, and her 4 year old granddaughter stopped by for a visit today.  Said she didn't want the year to end without coming to thank us for all we have done for her down through the years of our friendship.  Brought us a music DVD she had produced earlier this year.  Her daughter cooked a pot of corn chaff for us.  They just couldn't thank us enough.

We met in early 2007, shortly after I had returned from my 95 year old mother's memorial service in the U.S.  She wanted me  to speak to a group of ladies.  I shared about my mother's life and death, and the need to be prepared to die.  The end can come at any time for anyone.  As a result of the things I shared, several of the ladies gave their hearts to the Lord.  

 

Our friendship deepened over the years. She is a well educated, cultured, upper class lady, with a good paying job.  Her husband also has a good paying job.  She came to know the Lord sometime after she got married.  Her husband, though a nice man, never has accepted the Lord as he Savior.  She has been back to Shiloh many times, often with a group of ladies.  

 

And then one day she fell sick.  It was a strange sickness.  She was talking out of her mind.  The family didn't know what to do.  In moments of coherence she told them to bring her to Shiloh.  We  would be able to help her.  It turned out that Jim and I were in the U.S. at that time.  But Guy was there and he spent a lot of time trying to help her.  He prayed for her and with her over and over again.  Finally the family took her to France.  She was hospitalized there for a long time.  She was in a coma for part of that time.  They diagnosed her with a serious mental problem.  Eventually, with medication and counseling, she began to recover.  

 

She was brought back to Cameroon to live with her daughter until she would be strong enough to return home to her husband.  It was then that she learned her husband had thrown her out of his house.  He did not want a wife who was mental.  So she took up permanent residence with her daughter and family.  She had lost her job over the course of her illness, but was at retirement age, so has not tried to find another job.  Slowly she regained full health and strength, and her mind was fully healed.  She gives all the credit to our Lord.  

 

And so during 2016 she wrote and produced a DVD to the Glory of God.  She wanted to let us know how much she appreciates the part Shiloh played in her illness and ultimate recovery.  We had a wonderful visit and then I prayed for her before they left.  She is a dear lady and a living miracle.

I stepped out of our village house this afternoon in time to have a front row seat to the most spectacular sight!   At the base of one of our large mango trees, newly hatched termites were soaring skyward from a hole in the ground.  Billions of them were billowing out of the hole.  And out of nowhere a certain kind of bird arrived for their Christmas Feast!  They were swooping in from every angle, diving down and capturing termites just as fast as they could.  It was something to behold.  It went on and on and on for a very long time.  Several of us gathered to watch the spectacle.  It was difficult to imaging how even one termite could survive this attack on their very lives in order to produce the next generation.  Surely termites were becoming extinct right before my very eyes.  And then it happened.  Slowly, almost without notice, the bird population diminished.  They went from uncounted numbers to just a handful.  Clearly their little bird bellies were ready to burst.  One can only eat so much at a Christmas Feast.  And as the birds took time out on nearby trees, the termites slowly gained the victory.  Many thousands of them DID live to see a new day, did live to reproduce.  Termites are not going extinct after all.

 

Wow!  Where has this week gone?  And why haven't I found the time to blog?

Here's the rundown:

Monday

Eric picked me up at 9 a.m. in his trusty taxi.  With Christmas shopping list in hand and a pocket full of money, I was determined to do the impossible.  It was to have been a one day shopping marathon.  Then I would be done and wouldn't have to think of going back into town again.  No more hassling with the dreaded Christmas traffic, which seems to get worse every year.  

Good idea.  Brilliant plan.  Forgot to calculate just how long it takes to maneuver through traffic at this time of the year.  Returned to Shiloh at 5 p.m.  Exhausted!  Tired of shopping!  Bah-humbug!  List not finished.  Have to go back into town.  Hopefully just a half day though.  I've almost licked this problem.  How bad can it be?  But not tomorrow.  Tomorrow is reserved for finishing decorating Shiloh for Christmas.  Cannot drag that project on any longer.

Tuesday

The best laid plans of mice and men...How does that saying go again??

Eating breakfast with a guest when the phone rang.  Missionary friends wondered if I could possibly go out to the airport right away and pick up their lost luggage?  Just got word that it has safely arrived.  Sure.  I could do that for them.  After all, the airport is the opposite direction from town and all that traffic.  Shouldn't take too long.  Then I can tackle the final Christmas decorating.

On the way to the airport learned that another missionary needed help buying a particular book that is not sold in her area.  Sure.  I could help her with this project.  How hard could it be?  True, I would have to go into town.  But only part way.  I knew the exact bookstore that carried this book.  She needed 14 copies for a class on marriage which she will be teaching in January.  

What should have been an easy favor to do for a friend turned into a living night-mirror.  I spent three hours trying to buy the books.  Finally gave up in despair.  Owner of the bookstore offered to bring them out to Shiloh in a couple of hours.  Sounded like a good idea.  Gladly paid for her taxi fare.  Little realizing the major drama and trauma I was getting myself into.  It took three hours and many phone calls to connect the lady selling the books with the friend buying the books.  But finally, after we had long given up hope, it all turned out well.  After 8 p.m. When we were all so exhausted we could hardly stand upright.  

Wednesday

Back into Yaounde to (you guessed it) finish all the Christmas shopping.  Should be back around noon, I announced on my way out the door.  Funny, ha ha!!!  I should know better than to make rash predictions.  At three p.m. there was only one thing left on the list to buy.  And then the fun began.  We went from shop to shop, from one end of the city to the other, up and down, back and forth, before we finally found the last item.  By the time we fought our way through traffic and got back to Shiloh, it was after 6 p.m.  Hoping, longing, wishing that I won't have to think about going into town until sometime after the New Year.  I'm getting too old for all this rushing around!

Thursday

Which  brings us to today.  Spent a quiet day at home.  Christmas decorations are finally all up.  Shiloh looks stunning.  This afternoon a group of Seminary doctoral students came to Shiloh for a farewell party for one of their professors.  He has been with us for two weeks and returns to Switzerland tomorrow.  Many of these students have stayed at Shiloh for varying lengths of time as they work their way through their Master's program and now their Doctoral program.  It's been a joy and an honor to have a small part in helping these future church leaders from various African countries.  Their seminary is a short walk away from Shiloh.

It's Sunday.  

And we were not in church.  

Again.  

For the umpteenth Sunday in a row. 

But we were in ministry.  

Again. 

For the umpteenth Sunday in a row.

We wouldn't be anywhere else

doing anything else.

We truly love what we are doing.

She's been to Shiloh many times before.  Often with her husband.  But this time she came alone.  She eats breakfast and dinner with us and spends all the rest of the time in her room.  Has many projects she is working on.  Taking time to rest and relax a bit, too.  Theirs is a very busy ministry.  He's a surgeon and she is a nurse.  Doing a wonderful, wonderful work for our Lord.  We dearly love this couple.  They always bless and encourage our hearts.

This time she needs to be ministered to.  This time she lingers at the table talking, sharing, unburdening her heart.  Breakfast began at 8 a.m. and ended at 11 a.m. Dinner went from 5:30 p.m. until 8 p.m.  She's found a safe place here at Shiloh.  And we are honored to be here for her in her hour of need.  

Did we mention that we truly love what we are doing?

Papa Lobe was a Daoula man.  Daoula men were at his funeral today in abundance.  They were easy to spot.  They wore long skirts, un-tucked long sleeved white shirts, and little black hats.  We even saw a darling little three year old boy decked out in his little skirt and shirt!  The women were impossible to recognize.  They wore traditional Cameroonian dresses like all the rest of us.  

When our Cameroonian grandchildren spotted us, they made a bee line to where we were sitting and gave us big bear hugs.  These kids call us their White Grandparents.  We tell our grandchildren in America that we are their Black Grandparents.  

The ceremony was in French, translated into Daoula.  A number of the elderly didn't speak enough French to be able to understand what was going on.  Papa Lobe was well honored and our Lord was glorified.  He had selected a number of the songs that were sung.  The Gospel was clearly preached. 

It was a sweet, sad time as we gathered together at the mortuary to assist in the "removal of the body" ceremony.  Papa Lobe, our friend and the very first employee at the U.S. Embassy here in Cameroon, has gone home to Glory.  All of his adult children were there, some coming from as far away as France and from Eugene, OR, U.S.A.  Death is part of life.  And death is the future of all of us.  While we miss our friend, we do not sorrow as the world does.  We have the bright hope of being reunited in Glory some day soon.