Happy Thanksgiving!

It’s good to be back in my office this morning after a couple weeks focused on Africa. There is so much we want to accomplish to help reach this community and to impact a country that it’s hard to know where to begin. There is one thing that is pressing that I hope all my West Ridge friends will partner with in the next couple days if you haven’t engaged it already.

Once again we are partnering with CAYA Ministry to reach out to pockets of low-income housing communities throughout Northwest Atlanta. Our hope is to provide Thanksgiving dinner to approximately 600 families through this partnership.

There are a couple ways you can get involved; 

#1 Go to Publix and pick up a $15, $20, or $$25 gift card and bring it with you to West Ridge by Wednesday. You can drop it off at our main reception desk any time between 9:00 a.m. – 5:00 p.m. I haven’t gotten mine yet either, so I can’t whine at you about procrastinating.

#2 We will be sorting and boxing up food in the Discovery Room this week at West Ridge. This is a very easy way to serve, but requires a lot of hands. It also is a great way to get kids involved. We will begin the sorting process on Thursday

#3 There will also be an opportunity for your family to help deliver food boxes to those who are not able to come pick them up on their own. You can join us at WRC this Friday for that.

Contact my office at West Ridge if you would like to volunteer to sort or deliver.

Everyone Belongs, 

Paul

To My Friends At Dry Tears

Two years ago West Ridge Church took in money for wells in Africa at our Dinner In December program. We were not connected in Burkina yet, but God was beginning to lead us here. Over the next several months an organization called Dry Tears came alongside and provided most of the funds for two wells. Dry Tears was started by some teenagers at our church.

 

On our first trip here a year ago we went to the bush and got to see where those wells were going to be put in.

 

After a year of nearly being frauded, lots of communication, and changing the drilling company, those two wells have been dug. I saw one in a village called Founza. It was just in the nick of time as every hand dug well in that village has nearly dried up less than 8 weeks since the end of the 14-week rainy season. We chose not to go to the village of Bonzan as it was being drilled the day we were in the bush, and we didn’t want to interrupt or get in the way.

 

In Burkina, a hand dug well can serve 500 around people for about four months beyond the rainy season.

 

Today we got word that the well in Bonzan is being classified as a ‘gusher’. It will provide water at three times the rate of an average well, and has the ability to provide water to nearly everyone in those two villages.

 

We hope and pray that God allows us to make serious impact in this country. When He keeps guiding these kinds of decisions and leading us to water in the wilderness I believe that is exactly what will happen.

 

Congratulations to my friends at Dry Tears. God has taken your pure-hearted vision and is blessing it with even more great fruit. I’m so pumped that Conner and Logan will be here to see it themselves in a couple of weeks!

 

Everyone Belongs,

 

Paul  

Friendly Reminder

I love West Ridge and the worship we participate in together. It is the worship of my heart language and allows me to express my thoughts and feelings to our worthy God. One the great things about being out of the country is having the opportunity to join in worship with other believers.

Last week at a  worship service in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso the church worshipped in four different languages. It was amazing. Each style was unique and three of them came complete with their own choreography. The Bwamu language had some people that really know had to bring it. MC Hammer may have been in the house today. The great thing is Hammer and his friends move together (it seems spontaneous) in a way that just brings joy to everyone who is in the room. It is flat out worship! We’ve got it on video and will post later.

The one without choreography was this incredible choir that would have been the envy of my high school music teacher. The acoustics in this concrete room just carried it right up to heaven. It was great.

Brian spoke and gave a message of hope that he gave about 6 weeks ago at West Ridge. You always wonder if your messages will translate to other groups of people. There’s no question this one did. A couple dozen people put their faith and trust in Christ and will be followed up on by the staff here, and many others asked for prayer.

Different languages, styles, colors, but one God.

A friendly reminder of God’s love for diversity and that His creativity is larger than anything I can imagine.

Everyone Belongs,

 

Paul

Mounds of Fresh Dirt

Our team made it back from the bush today. Brian, Tadd, Steve and Dan all rubbed a crocodile’s back, while it was being kept reasonably happy by a slowly dying chicken. Tim and I had done this before and were quite happy not to cheat death again. John ordered lunch. We ordered two chickens for lunch as well. Chickens ordered for lunch or for crocs all come from the same pen. We’ll have to put some of this video on youtube at some point.

 

The rest of the team was taken back to the guest house, but I had one more stop to make. I had heard there was a new church plant in the poorest area of the capital city, Sector 30. I wanted to meet the man (and his family) that would give his life to work in this area. I’ll post about Sector 30 later.

 

The rainy season has just ended here in Burkina Faso. My missionary friend, Pete Brokopp, was driving me out to S30 and told me we were approaching a cemetery for the poor. The first thing I noticed was all the muslim symbols on the graves. These represent good people who died without faith in Jesus.

 

Thousands of them.

 

In looking at the star and crescent I had looked past something else. Pete pointed out to me mounds of fresh dirt in one portion of the cemetery. “You see those?” My heart sank. How many are there, four dozen?

 

Five dozen? Was it common to have this many at one time?

 

It’s the end of the rainy season. Mosquitoes are at their peak. Malaria is at its peak. A completely preventable disease that I have had, that the man riding in the car has had more times than he can count, and I have preventative medication in my back pack.

 

It cost me $8 US dollars. The remedy, if the disease is caught early is $1 US dollar. If it is caught late, $5 US dollars.

 

Malaria kills 3,000 children a day in Africa. It is estimated that $6 mosquito nets would cut that number in half.

 

In the past two days, I have walked in villages of children that have died in the last week. There are lots of ways to measure success here. Less muslim symbols on graves is one, and less mounds of fresh dirt.

 

Everyone Belongs,

 

Paul

Scorched Earth

I am back in one of my favorite places in the world, Burkina Faso. This little country is so insignificant on the world stage. Most people don’t know where it is. They are not connected to a major body of water, so they have no ports. They have no major resources other than a couple of small recent finds. It holds the only capital in the world without it’s own water source. They are the 2^nd poorest country in the world. They have the highest illiteracy rate in the world. One in every 3.4 children will die before the age of ten. Most of them are from treatable diseases such as malaria or ‘rota-virus’. AIDS is rampant. Mothers with AIDS have to nurse their children rather than mixing up formula in the water even though they know that to do so is to pass on the disease. The water is too unsafe to mix formula.

 

Small. Insignificant. Poor. Oppressed.

 

We walked across a piece of ground today that appears to be God-forsaken. The interesting thing is what has actually forsaken this place. Villagers living in Taghin, an area on the outskirts of Ouagadougou, tell a story of a large snake. The snake is so large that we have been told it has not only been attributed to small animals being taken, but children as well. The villagers in this area have been performing sacrifices to keep the snake happy. Tracks have been found in the ground that are 12-18 inches wide. That’s a big snake. By the way, I have a snake thing. I hate snakes.

 

This python (most likely) has been living in this dry, scorched, thorny, area. The thorns are larger than even the ones that are so well known from the Middle-East. A local mission led by my friend Pete Brokopp, is building a church here and an education center. They were given this land by the government. Who else would want it?

 

Several weeks ago a group of believers hosted a prayer service claiming this insignificant piece of scorched earth in the name of Jesus Christ. They asked God to redeem this land and that hundreds of people would have their lives changed. Since then an interesting thing has happened. The snake is gone. There have been no more sightings or signs. No more fear. No more sacrifices.

 

God is here. He didn’t just come with me, He’s been here all along. He’s still here. We hope to help redeem this place to put His glory on display from this insignificant place in the middle of West Africa.

 

Everyone Belongs,

 

Paul

 

See my other blogging friends and pictures from this trip by clicking on their pages:

Brian Bloye, Tim Grandstaff, Steve Whipple