To really understand Vytrak and its purpose, you have to understand how it all began.  God has really taken us on quite a journey to reveal His vision and purpose for Vytrak.  So that is where this blog is going to start…”at the very beginning.”                               

When Erin and I got married 8 years ago, we talked about what we wanted to do for our honeymoon.  We both thought it would be a good idea to have a 2 week trip to Hawaii in a luxurious hotel.  Well, as it turns out, getting married while still in college and not having incomes makes trips like that difficult.  So we took a 3 day trip to Florida using buddy passes (Thanks Ed and Nancy!).  Ever since then, we had talked and dreamed about taking that trip.  After working and saving for several years and getting our 3 kids to ages we felt we could leave them with family, we decided it was time to head to Hawaii.  We picked out the luxurious hotel, had some miles to pay for a ticket, figured out the dates we would go and were about ready to book the trip when I went to a conference that talked about all the horrible things going on in Africa and some of the things being done about them.  I was convicted that I had no idea about what was happening around the world.  I am pretty sheltered to these things in the U.S.  I went home from this conference with a very crazy thought, maybe we should go to Africa instead of Hawaii.  Maybe we should stay in mud huts in rural Africa instead of a 5 star hotel.  I wondered what Erin would think, how could I take away her dream of Hawaii to do something like this?  But Erin is an amazing woman.  God had already been working in her heart and she was excited about the idea.  She too felt that something about our Hawaii trip just wasn’t feeling right (which is why she hadn’t “gotten around to” booking the trip for a couple months) and maybe this was why.  God was calling us to Africa.  And so we went — first to Malawi, one of the poorest countries in the entire world. (Click here for country info) We had been sponsoring national pastors in Malawi and Zimbabwe through an organization called Gospelink and we decided to try to stay with them.  Erin began her short term career as a travel agent and planned the whole trip that ended up being a 10 day 5 country adventure to Africa with an afternoon trek through London.  It is amazing to see how God used desires we had 8 years ago to drive us to save money, and plan out time to take a long trip, to get us where He actually wanted us to go the whole time.  God timed the movement in both my heart and Erin’s heart perfectly and gave us a wonderful unity on our trip.  And did He have a lot to show us…

 

Our Initiation to Malawi the “Heart of Africa” - November 2006

 

 

Flying into Malawi was surreal.  Already full of excitement, anxiousness, wonder, and curiosity, we started to descend over Blantyre (the business capital and second largest city in the country).  The first thing we asked ourselves was “Where are the lights?”  We saw very few city lights, all we could see was lots of flickering fires in a sea of darkness.  There were fires all over providing light.  We landed and began our adventure in one of the poorest countries in the world.  Once we got through security and customs, we came around the corner and saw Andy Namalima holding a hand written sign that simply said “ANDY”.  (Andy is Gospelink’s regional director over the region of Malawi that the pastor we sponsor, Pastor Felen, lives and works in) He along with 5 of his children were standing with smiles and looks of anticipation.  They quickly grabbed our stuff and threw it into the back of his small Toyota truck that had been donated to him. 

We drove through the dark city streets so close to people walking and riding bikes that I thought we would surely hit them.  The roads, full of large crack and pot holes, were narrow and wound through the city in an unorganized fashion.  Once we got out of the city (maybe 5 miles) we hit the dirt roads.  For the first few miles, there were more people walking on the roads then in the city.  People were gathered around fires every where we looked.  Once we got further outside of the city, the people were gone.  We could only see what the truck lights illuminated.  The roads were bumpy and Andy drove faster then I was comfortable with causing me to be tense the entire trip.  After about ½ an hour of bumping through rural Africa roads, we pulled into the Namalima’s drive way.  We were greeted by the whole family (including extended family) who were dancing and singing holding large signs welcoming us to Malawi – the “heart of Africa!”  It was late so we were given dinner and a candle light tour of our room and the restroom (a hole in the ground about 20 feet behind the house covered by a tin roof).  Erin and I sat in our room soaking in the moment whispering about our initial thoughts and feelings.  No lights… No running water… just the joy of being in the home of one of the most welcoming families we have ever met.

The Namalima Family

The morning came early.  We were invited to shower.  They had gotten up early and heated a huge pot of water over the open fire (their kitchen) for us to use as our shower. 

I was led behind the house near the restrooms to a shower room.  It had 3 walls made of dirt and covered with a tin roof similar to the restroom.  The fourth wall was a large black trash bag. 

The warm water felt good.  We bathed with a large bowl of water and a cup that we used to dump it over our head.  This was referred to several times as a “Malawi shower.”  After bathing, we had breakfast.  This was one of the moments that I was the most nervous about, but to my surprise, it was pretty good.  We ate potatos, chicken, eggs, and bread.  We only ate with Andy while the rest of his family ate somewhere else.  I’m not sure I ever really figured out where they went while we ate.  After eating, we were supposed to head to Zomba, about a 2 hour drive (30 miles) from Blantyre.  However, God wanted us to stay at Andy’s longer.  That morning, the sky’s opened up and it rained…it rained hard…it rained for the first time in 5 months.  At first, the family was full of excitement telling us that we brought with us the blessing of rain.  But then a panic filled the boys’ eyes as they realized the well they had been digging all summer had not been covered.  They all ran outside and began frantically trying to cover the well with tree branches and some old tin.  

The water was sucking mud into the hole that they had worked so hard on.  After about 20-30 minutes of working in the torrential downpour, they had a make shift cover that was preventing some water but still probably letting about 20% of the rain and mud into the hole.  Inside the house, we were mostly dry.  Andy’s house was one of the nicer houses in his village. 

He was one of the lucky ones with a U.S. sponsor that had been very generous with him.  The floors were concrete, the walls were mud bricks, and the roof was tin.  When it rains hard on a tin roof, it is really really loud!  God used that day with all of us in a one room to introduce us more deeply to the wonderful Namalima family.

 

The Mud

The rain finally stopped in the afternoon.  They went out to see how the roads had held up and found that about ½ mile down the road (aka mud path) a portion had washed partly away.  This did not seem to bother or surprise the family.  It meant the kids didn’t go to school as the river they cross on foot every morning would be too high to wade across.  It also meant that we were not going to Zomba that morning.  That day, we walked around Andy’s house, saw the land for the church they were hoping to build in his village,

saw where the church was currently meeting,

and saw the house that his daughter and son-in-law were building. 

We watched the younger children play for hours with the bouncy balls we brought them.  (those things can really bounce on their concrete floors!)  And we introduced the older Namalima children to the wonderful game of “UNO”. 

It was an incredible cross cultural time of fellowship.  Later that afternoon, we decided to see if the roads had dried out enough for us to get to Zomba.  We went the long way around where the road had not washed out.  After driving for about 5 minutes, slushing through the mud, we got to a section of the road that looked as if the mud would swallow the truck if we tried to drive through it.  We decided to try, and we got swallowed.  We tried to back out but couldn’t.  We got out and started to push backwards, rocking the truck back and forth with mud flying everywhere.  After what seemed like forever and with all of us covered in mud, we managed to escape the unpassable mud pit.  At that point, we determined we could never get through it to the other side.  Charles suggested going up and over a ridge that wasn’t technically a road but might work to get us past the mud pit.  When we got to the ridge, I didn’t think we had a chance.  It was pretty steep for about 15 feet to get to the ridge.  We tried once…not close.  We tried twice…not close.  The guys got out to push while Andy drove.  Third time we were hoping for some charm but no such luck.  Charles wanted to give it a try (I thought Andy’s technique was lacking).  Hopeful that Charles would get us through, Erin and I were instructed to get back into the truck.  With Charles’s 3 brothers, father (Andy), and brother-in-law ready to push, we backed up to get a running start.  As soon as we hit the incline, we were sliding back and forth.  The guys tried to push with mud flying everywhere and just as I thought we were never going to get out, the tires gripped and we fish tailed up to the ridge.  We drove through a walking path about 100 yards interrupting a soccer game (played with a small ball made from rags) along the way.  We jumped back onto the mud road about 50 yards beyond the mud pit.  Having conquered this first pit, we still had 2 hours in front of us.  Often driving very fast through mud in order to slide through, we managed to make good time driving about 25 miles in just under 2 hours before arriving at the second stop in our journey.  My understanding of Africans’ rural road system was greatly enhanced that day.

(Below is a picture of the major highway connecting the 2 major cities in the area, one of them the capital of Malawi, Blantyre.)

A Day in Zomba

Upon arriving in Zomba, we were greeted by the Lichapas, the pastors family that we had been sponsoring for several years. 

Pastor Felen (far left) and his wife, Elizabeth (small woman just to the right of me), have 4 biological children, a nephew that they have cared for since his father’s death and another teenage orphan boy they took in after his parents both died.  This family lived amongst obvious poverty that we had only read about or seen on National Geographic specials, yet they obviously put forth their best for our arrival.  They even borrowed a house for all of us to stay in. 

(Below is a picture of the most sophisticated bathroom we saw in the country, complete with “friends”.)

We spent the evening with Felen and his family and friends in this tiny borrowed house with no plumbing or electricity.  They asked so many questions about our churches, church planting, church governance.  Being from the west made us the local experts and they soaked in whatever we had to say, which, needless to say, we didn’t feel like was much.

The next day was hot and Erin and I were running low on drinking water (we couldn’t drink the local water from the well because it could make us sick).  We asked if they had any water and they said they would get some.  We were spending the day visiting Felin’s churches.  One of the churches we visited was out in a remote rural village.  The mud was so thick that we had to park the truck a ways out and hike in. 

The church was made completely of hardened mud (pews, podium, and all). 

The people of the village were out in the fields planting their crops and came in straight from the fields to greet us.  Most of them didn’t have shoes (I noticed this because the ants were crawling all over my sandaled feet and legs chomping away – and it really hurt!) and many of the children wore several layers of holey rags in order to cover all of their bodies.  The expressions on their faces were very hard and stoic but the joy in their hearts was quite evident. 

They asked us to preach by which we were taken a little off guard.  After sharing a few words, the choir got up to sing a few songs for us.  It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard there in that church made from mud.  The congregation followed us all the way back to our parked truck singing the entire way.  We were touched by the joy of these children of God who had so little worldly wealth but so much spiritual joy.

As we drove through the country side on our way back to Zomba, I was amazed at the beautiful land – it was so lush and green.  The ground was extremely fertile.  I saw many fields that did not have crops in them.  When I asked why the fields were not planted, I got a shocking answer.  “The food would rot if it was planted.  We live 15 miles from town and only plant enough food for our families and what can be carried into town to sell at the market.  There is no point in planting more than that.”  Wow!  People are starving to death in the city and food is rotting or not being planted 15 miles away.  I remembered back to the conference that had sparked this trip in the first place to one of the gentleman talking about a Basic Utility Vehicle for Africa.  I knew I wanted to learn more about it when I got back. 

That day, we got stuck in the mud several times, saw joy in the midst of extreme poverty, worshipped with 2 different African churches and after a long day filled with thirst, we received a bottle of water.  They had sent their son out at 7am and about 5pm that evening, he returned with a bottle of water.  It was extremely humbling to realize what had been done to get us some water. 

Humbled by a Couple Eggs

As we were leaving Zomba that day to head back to Andy’s, I was given 3 eggs as a gift.  Within a few miles on the bumpy roads, two of the eggs had hit together and broken.  I showed Charles who was driving and he stopped the car and took them from me.  In my ignorance, I expected him to open the door and toss them to the ground.  Instead, he handed them to his younger brother and told him not to spill them.  He took them in his cupped hands and sat in the back of the truck no longer able to hold on for safety and absorb the bumps for the next two hours.  Once again, I was humbled to see this after arriving back to Andy’s house, they quickly took the eggs and cooked them up.

A Lesson from Charles

On the ride home from Zomba, I got the opportunity to get to know Charles, Andy’s oldest son.  Charles is my age, he’s married and has a son the age of Liberty.  His goal was to go to college.  We were told that in Malawi, if you are in roughly the top 5% of high school students in the country, the government will pay for college.  If not, its extremely expensive and most never get the opportunity.  Charles was very intelligent, very motivated, and he spoke excellent English but he landed just outside that percentage.  Not being able to afford college, the only job he could get was pumping gas 2 days a week.  He helped his dad and brother-in-law build their house when he wasn’t working.  Charles’s house had mud floors and a thatched roof.  He bought a bag of rice for his food each month.  If he got extra work, his family might eat meat once or twice a month.  Charles was trying to build a house with a concrete floor and a tin roof like his dad’s.  A house with a concrete floor and a tin roof would give his son a much better chance of not getting malaria and surviving his younger years.  No one should have to deal with that as a parent.  Charles had been saving up for years and was in the process of making this bricks for his house.  I asked him how long it would take him to finish his house.  He thought 5 years.  I asked him how much it would cost to finish his house over that time.  About $100 he said.  My heart sank.  His son’s life is at stake and $100 could save it.  It was unimaginable.  That night after we sang, I pulled Charles off to the side.  I gave him $100 and told him to finish his house.  I’ve never made such an impact on someone’s life before.  The gratitude in his eyes and his embrace confirmed the impact.  Charles changed my life.  What was different about him and me?  I am not more motivated then him.  I certainly don’t work harder than he does.  I’m not smarter than this bilingual, top 15% student.  So why do I have so much and he has so little?  The answer — the place we were born.  If I were born in Malawi, I would be Charles and if Charles was born in the U.S. he’d probably be doing better then me.  The realization didn’t make me feel bad for being born in the U.S. or for having all the great opportunities I had.  No, it made me realize that I have been blessed with more than most everyone in the world and I needed to use those blessings to love people.  It’s easy to think that as Americans, we are just your average middle class family.  We don’t have a lot of extra to give.  What can we do?  But being there with Charles made me realize how “rich” we really are.  (Recently we typed our income into http://www.globalrichlist.com/ to find that we are in the top 1% richest people in the world.)  The % difference in income level between me and Charles is the same % difference in income level between me and someone who makes over 25 million dollars a year.  I may not have thought $100 was very much but the equivalent to me would have been someone giving me over $25,000.  That can make a big impact in another person’s life.  And the exciting thing, is that we are capable of so much more.  I started to not think of myself as an average middle class American.  I started thinking of myself as an “upper class world member”.

“From everyone who has been given much, much will be required.” (Luke 12:48)

I realized that much is required of me.

Gloriously Ruined

That night was our last night with the Namalimas.  We sat in the main room of their tiny house and talked for awhile.  They thanked us for our gifts, they thanked us for coming, they thanked us blessing them.  I knew they had done more to change my life then I had theirs.  They sang a few songs to us then to my surprise, they asked Erin and I to sing some songs to them.  Erin and I thought about what songs we both knew.  We discussed, we strategized, we STALLED!  But finally, we sang the only public duet we’ve ever sung (and probably should be the last).  But that night…that wonderful night…maybe because of the experiences of the past few days…maybe because the walls and floors created some decent acoustics, we actually thought we sounded decent.  They clapped for us and then we all sat there for awhile, not really wanting the night to end.  We would be flying out first thing in the morning.  Slowly we all got up and went to bed.  The next day, we left Malawi having been changed forever.  I was recently at the Bethany Christian Services National board meeting (Bethany is a Christian organization that facilitates domestic and international adoptions.  I am currently on the Board for the Iowa branch of Bethany Christian Services.) and we had a guest speaker named Elizabeth Styffe.  She was the director of the HIV/AIDS ministry for Saddleback Church in Lakeforest, CA.  She was telling us the story of her first trip to Africa.  It was also to Malawi.  When she got back, she was asked how her trip was.  Her response she said was simple “I’m ruined”.  When asked what that meant, she said that her life as she knew it was over.  She had been gloriously ruined.  Her eyes had been opened to the needs of the world and she had no choice but to do something about it.  As she said these words, I could relate.  Flying out of Malawi, Erin and I both knew our lives could not be the same.  We needed to do something about what we had just seen.  We had been ruined, Gloriously ruined!