Sunday.

The church plant turned out to be a house church in one of the 'compounds' just outside of Kitwe. The compound is where the poorest of the poor urban people live--the government provides a small lot and the people construct whatever form of house they can manage. The house that we worshiped in this morning was a small three room house. Walking in the door from the sunlight I could hardly see my hand in front of my face and I smelled only dirt. We sat walked through the kitchen area and into the living area where there were several old couches and a few straight-back chairs along the walls. The floors were dirt and the outer walls were clay bricks with a loose-concrete mortar. The church usually met up the road a bit in another home, but the wife of that house had just suffered a seizure and wasn't able to host the church. We were able to visit her and pray after the service. There was also a funeral in the community this morning, so the usual 30-40 counting children was whittled down to about 8 adults and 15-20 kids. After some singing they called me to preach, and I think I surprised them a bit when I asked if I could sit on the floor and teach the children before giving the message. I taught the kids from Matthew 19 and the adults the same thing that I shared in the previous church--sowing and reaping in the kingdom of God and how that sort of activity is opposed to the sowing and reaping of the kingdoms of the world (from Isaiah 9, Matthew 13, and Galatians 6). I was blessed to be a part of the small community there, only less than a year in existence. There was genuine life in the leaders Robert, Gertrude, and Blessed, and they were upbeat and hopeful about being able to reach the compound with the gospel. They blessed me even more by cooking a meal after church, chicken, rice and potatoes, an expensive meal in their context. The generosity and graciousness of the Zambian people continues to convict my heart.

Packed and rested...to Lusaka in the morning.