By Kimberly van Veen | Photos courtesy of Lokisa Water Project, unless otherwise noted

Whenever MAF chaplain Sefiri Seepheephe visited the chief’s home, he knew what he would say.

The village headman for the mountain community of Kuebunyane, Lesotho, would bring up the lack of water for the approximately 1,500 Basotho people who lived in the valley. Even the medical clinic did not have water.

“I visited the chief almost every day, but there is no week that would pass by without him talking about the need for water for his people,” Sefiri said.

For washing and cooking, people hiked to the nearest well with a bucket and hauled it back up. During drought, this process took two hours, because people had to go down to the river. In these barren mountains, the only options for using the bathroom were an open field or to hike down to the river. And using the river as a bathroom led to unsanitary conditions. People in Kuebunyane were constantly sick with dysentery and other diseases.

Back in Maseru, Lesotho’s capital city, Sefiri mentioned the problem to pilot Joe Adams. He felt that addressing this basic need might soften hearts toward the gospel. MAF had been flying to Kuebunyane for years, bringing in evangelists and medical services. Kuebunyane is a seven-hour drive over rough dirt roads, then a hike with a 1,200-foot descent, a river crossing, and a 1,200-foot climb up the side of a mountain.

Joe contacted several organizations, but none worked in Lesotho. Then, by chance, he saw the Lokisa Water Project on Facebook.

Lokisa Water Project

Lokisa is a small ministry run by Tom and Lauren Jacobs, two Australian believers who live in Lesotho. Tom is an engineer, and Lauren is a nurse. They both saw how access to safe, clean water is life-changing in Lesotho, where almost half the population lives in poverty.

During the pandemic, the Jacobs returned to Australia and worked remotely, but they knew from friends in Lesotho how bad it was for the people there. They were convicted by James 2:15-17 to live out their faith practically.

“One small thing we could do was assist by getting water to these people who were in need,” Tom said. “So that’s kind of how Lokisa got born.”

In the Sesotho language, “Lokisa” means to repair, correct, or fix. The Jacobs started out small, repairing older systems or installing taps in communities. They’ve never had to look for a project; the projects come to them, usually through a friend of a friend who knows of a need.

They especially like to work with schools, because small conveniences like a water tap and a working toilet make a big difference in the lives of the kids, including improved school attendance.

The Largest Project Ever

When Tom got the email from Joe, he laughed, because they actually knew each other through the expat community in Lesotho. Joe hadn’t realized that Tom and Lauren ran the Lokisa water project.

Kuebunyane was so far off the beaten path, Tom had never heard of it before. And it would typically be much too far to reach without MAF’s help. “Without a plane, that place is like the ends of the earth,” Tom said.

But since MAF routinely visited Kuebunyane, “It gave us the courage to actually go to an insanely remote place,” Tom said.

MAF flew Lokisa staff to the community for a survey. Through careful planning, they identified the placement of water taps and toilets. They figured out how to pipe water down from the mountains using gravity or pumps and hired community members to dig the trenches, lay pipes, and pour concrete.

MAF transported crew and smaller materials for the project, but larger items had to go by road. Lokisa constructed the simple bathroom structures of corrugated metal in the capital city and then transported them to the location. That meant each structure, which is similar to an outhouse, was carried by truck and then by donkey up and down the steep valleys into the village.

Kuebunyane was Lokisa’s biggest project ever. It took eight months. They fitted 19 water taps, nearly a mile of pipework, fixed five springs/tanks, and installed 14 bathrooms. At the nearest primary school (which is a two-hour walk away), Lokisa installed two taps, a rainwater tank, a hand washing station, and eight toilets. Before, the 156 children at the school had no water or bathrooms.

Lokisa purposefully trains community members to make repairs, and they leave behind tools and spare parts. They also work with the village chief to set up a water council responsible for maintenance.

This forethought has already been useful in Kuebunyane. In January, one of the pipes was leaking, but the water committee soon fixed the pipe and had the tap working again soon. 

Thank You for the Water

The village of Kuebunyane has now had water for several months, and it has dramatically improved their lives. People are no longer constantly sick. The health clinic has water. Everyone is saving hours each week by not hauling water. People have privacy and feel safer when using the bathroom.

MAF staff are aware that bringing water to Kuebunyane is only one part of the mission there. “Bringing in water projects and helping out schools and bringing in health, it only does so much,” Joe said. “When we bring Jesus, there’s hope. Without it, without that, there’s no lasting change.”

Now, when Sefiri visits Kuebunyane, he no longer worries. The chief’s requests have changed to profuse thanks. “He says thank you so often, it’s become like a greeting,” said Sefiri.

Story appeared in FlightWatch vol. 3, 2024. Read the entire issue here:

The post Thirsty for Hope   appeared first on Mission Aviation Fellowship.

By Natalie Holsten                                                                                                   

The sounds of prayers and praises blended with the hum of the airplane engine.

“We surrender our city into your hands, Lord!” one woman prayed with hands uplifted.

It was not a typical flight for MAF pilot Lance Kanagy. Most flights involve transporting cargo or picking up medevac patients or moving passengers from one village to another. This flight was all about prayer.

As Lance flew around the island of Tarakan in North Kalimantan, Indonesia, his passengers prayed for their city, with its shrimp farms, busy port, and population of nearly 300,000 people.

Praise at 2,500 Feet

The prayer flight was one of three Lance did for the GSJA (Assemblies of God) church in Tarakan as part of their prayer convoy ministry, an annual event MAF has helped with for over a decade.

Each flight was a quick 10 to 20 minutes over the island. “Since this was my first time helping with the prayer convoy, I had no idea what it would be like,” Lance shared. “It was super encouraging to be a part of it.”

Lance said the first two loads of passengers mostly sang songs during the whole flight. “I remember on the second round getting chills down my back as they sang with so much passion and heartfelt strength.”

The third group was exuberant, Lance said, singing loudly on the ramp as they waited for clearance to take off. In fact, he had to ask them to stop for a minute so he could hear air traffic control.

“As I fired up the engine and taxied, they sang a few more songs, then prayed the whole time once we took off.”

In addition to the prayer flights, a group of 20 people prayed as they circled the island in a speed boat. The day concluded with a convoy of vehicles driving around the island, stopping for prayer along the way at the beach and ending at the church with a prayer service.

A Vision for Evangelism

“Our goal in this prayer convoy, our vision, is to win this city for Christ,” said Frans Kansil, head pastor of GSJA Tarakan. “We pray so that the hearts of people will be open, that they will come to the Lord Jesus. We pray for open doors for evangelism.”

Beyond that, they pray for Tarakan, that it will become a blessing to Indonesia, and to the nations. This year’s prayer convoy included pastors from other parts of Indonesia and two pastors from other countries.

Pastor Frans sees opportunities for evangelism in the country growing, compared to how it used to be. His church regularly sends out teams to bless other churches throughout Indonesia, providing training in evangelism, and through youth camps, women’s ministries, and pastors’ groups.

“This year, the door is very open,” he said. “I believe this all started with our prayers in Tarakan, and it’s not just Tarakan that is being blessed, but all of Indonesia. We pray for the fire of evangelism!”

The prayer convoy is a way for their church to unite in prayer, Pastor Frans said, and the MAF flights are a unique experience for many of their church members.

“I heard from those who went on the flights. They were amazed to be in a small plane, and when the plane turned, they were scared and prayed even harder!” Pastor Frans said with a laugh. “It was amazing. We’re so thankful to MAF for helping us facilitate this prayer convoy.”

A Dynamic Ministry

As the last prayer flight for 2024 wrapped up and passengers were unloaded, an urgent call came in from the nearby town of Malinau. Two patients—a man with a brain bleed, and a sick, dehydrated infant—needed to get to the hospital.

“I had a medevac flight shortly after the prayer flights and was just so thankful to be a part of such a dynamic ministry,” Lance said.

Medevac flights like this one are at the heart of MAF’s work in Kalimantan, seeking to meet the needs of isolated people, while also supporting the work of evangelists and local churches, like the GSJA prayer convoy ministry.

“It is truly a very special event to be part of,” MAF program director Jeremy Toews said. “May the Lord indeed light the fire of prayer and evangelism in all of our hearts.”

Story appeared in FlightWatch vol. 3, 2024. Read the entire issue here:

The post By land, by sea, by air appeared first on Mission Aviation Fellowship.

In their four years with MAF, Trey and Laurie Dewey’s respective roles have straddled the visible and the invisible. Laurie serves as a middle school teacher at Hillcrest School in Sentani, Papua, Indonesia, and Trey provides vital behind-the-scenes financial oversight for MAF’s global aviation ministry.

As a teacher, Laurie pours into the lives of missionary kids daily. While Laurie invests in the next generation of missionaries and teachers, Trey plays a crucial role in keeping them on the field. As part of MAF’s international finance team, he recently helped implement new accounting software to provide more accurate and up-to-date data. He’s also intentional when it comes to mentoring local staff right there in the Papua finance department. 

“Coaching in financial management doesn’t sound like frontline ministry,” Trey acknowledges. “But providing that financial training, mentorship, and oversight is absolutely vital for this work to go forward effectively. When you’re talking about accounting and finances, that’s the lifeblood of the organization to continue to do what they do.”

Serving in remote locations like Sentani, Papua, requires stepping out in faith over and over again. Laurie says working with MAF has deepened her faith in unanticipated ways: teaching her about true community, vulnerability, accountability and absolute dependence on God.

Trey also shares how he’s continually entrusting his skills and experience into the Lord’s hands. “God reminds me regularly that my career experience alone isn’t enough. I have to rely on Him daily, because only He can ultimately accomplish this work through me.”

From the classroom to the meeting room, the Deweys have discovered the beautiful truth that every role within MAF is indispensable, and ministry can happen anywhere and anytime believers are willing to answer God’s call on their lives.

If you’d like to partner with The Deweys and share in what God is doing through them in Papua, visit www.maf.org/dewey.

Story appeared in FlightWatch vol. 3, 2024. Read the entire issue here:

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Story by Jennifer Wolf
Unless otherwise noted: Photos by Lemuel Malabuyo

Sixto Quiñonez called out in his jovial, megaphone voice within the Amazon jungle, inviting the people of Panintza village in Ecuador to come to the evening service. Entire families started making their way to the small church.

In no time they had filed in and were seated on wooden planks with tree stumps for legs. Then they began shouting out the numbers of favorite worship songs, starting with a Spanish songbook and then transitioning to Shiwiar, their native language.

Their voices rose in praise to their Savior Jesus, accompanied by an acoustic guitar and a choir of jungle birds, cicadas, and other buzzing insects.

A call for help

Samuel Mayancha was born in Panintza and attended elementary school there. As an adult, he went away to the city to be trained as a teacher and gain experience. During that time he also gave his life to Christ.

When he returned to the village to teach the children, Samuel found the community divided over religious ideas. There was no spiritual work happening, and there was no one to teach them God’s Word. He desired to start a congregation but wasn’t sure how to do that.

Then he heard that the MAF team in Shell had a jungle ministry. MAF would adopt a village in which to plant a church and disciple the people. Samuel and the leaders in Panintza desperately wanted this for their community.

Samuel made a video stating their need for missionaries to come and teach them about God.

Sixto, the MAF chaplain, says they had just finished three years of ministry in a small jungle community and it was time to choose the next location. They had already received many requests.

Then Samuel’s video arrived, imploring MAF to come to Panintza.

“And I remembered in Acts, when the Macedonian cried out to Paul to come over to them and help them,” says Sixto.

MAF doesn’t force its ministry on villages. They wait until they’re asked to come. It was obvious that Panintza was desperate for God’s Word.

MAF accepted Samuel’s request and, two years ago, Sixto and Wilson Cuvi, the MAF base maintenance manager, started making monthly visits to Panintza. Other teammates joined them as schedules permitted. MAF staff also donated their own money toward the trips and provided gifts of food, medicine, and school supplies.

Doors opening

MAF first started doing these jungle outreaches back in 2010, when an expatriate water engineer—a believer—was working in the Quichua/Sapara area of the jungle. At that time, many communities rejected the gospel and were opposed to having missionaries come. But in this area, the people began to ask the engineer about Jesus. He tried to answer their questions, but eventually suggested they talk to MAF, which they did. They invited MAF to come to their community one weekend each month to help them study the Bible.

Wilson was the main teacher then, and the fact that he is Quichua and spoke the language opened doors to preach the gospel there. Trust was built between MAF and the neighboring communities, who later asked them to come and work with them as well.

To date MAF has done this type of discipleship ministry in 15 communities. People have chosen to follow Christ in each place, but in one village in particular—Suraka—the teaching had a profound impact. Out of 30 families, ten couples made the decision to unite in marriage before God, committing their partnerships to Christ. MAF never told them they needed to do this. They just felt convicted to do it. Along with this special celebration, many were baptized that day.

“It was a joyful and connected experience,” said one of the MAF pilots who attended. Three MAF airplanes flew in with civil authorities, and MAF staff raised money to buy rings for the couples.

Wilson stresses the importance of working in these smaller villages, which tend to be neglected. He says there are more than 400 small communities within the Amazon jungle of Ecuador that need someone to disciple them.

Challenges and rewards

When Sixto and Wilson began ministering in Panintza, people’s lives were a mess, home situations were not good, and there were complex sins.

“But the moment they knew and accepted Christ as their only personal Savior, it was different for them,” says Wilson. “Although there are struggles and there are still problems, they are feeling the love of God.”

At first Panintza’s new believers were meeting in the community gathering place, where there were all kinds of activities and parties. But Sixto challenged them to build a church because it would make a statement that they are Christians now. It would be their “light on the hill.”

Now, here they sat during the evening service, in the church they had built with their own hands. Bibles were open on their laps, as they followed along and took turns reading verses out loud for the group.

The post Faith Grows in the Jungle appeared first on Mission Aviation Fellowship.

Words and photos by Heather Marx

“Ah-EEE!” The Moi believer interrupted his own words with an emotional cry. “All praise to God! You brought this Word to us. We praise You, Father, that we have seen this day before we die!”

The villagers gathered around the MAF plane to receive the first shipment of Bibles my husband, Brian, flew in. As the engine spooled down, the people whooped and then danced around the plane. So much excitement!

As the first box of Moi Bibles came off the plane, I looked around. Tears of joy streamed down the faces of those gathered—the missionary families, the pilots and other support staff, and the Moi believers themselves. Much hard work and sacrifice led to this moment of bringing the translated New Testament and 1,500 verses of the Old Testament to the Moi people.

Brian and I, along with our children Ethan, Jayden, and Elyse, spent four days with the Moi in January, arriving a few days before the dedication ceremony. Brian flew us to the village in a Kodiak, and we stayed in one of the missionary houses built over 20 years ago.

Celebrating with all the missionary families was so special. Brian has been flying for 13 years in support of the work in Moi people group, flying in the missionaries, their children to and from boarding school, medevacs, flights for the Moi school run by Lantern of Hope, and the clinic. We also supported the work when we lived in Nabire, hosting guests and doing the occasional supply errand.

I was so excited to introduce our twins to a Moi mother of twins, a boy and girl, just like ours. This is the first time in Moi history that twins have been kept alive. The Moi used to believe that one twin was an evil spirit impersonating the baby. They would kill one twin, usually the smaller one.  But the gospel changed that!

On the first night we were hosted for dinner in a honai (traditional Papuan house) by a Moi family and enjoyed a meal of root vegetables, sugar cane, and bananas, all roasted in the fire. Sepaiye is the MAF agent who helps when the plane comes to Daboto. His wife, Betani, gave me her necklace and said, “Your husband is my husband’s friend, so you are my friend.” We were so blessed and humbled to be hosted by this family who shared their food and possessions with us.

On the day of the dedication, Brian and another pilot flew in dignitaries, pastors, and VIPs. There was more dancing and whooping around the planes. Boaz, the representative of the Bible society that paid for the printing of the Bibles, was lifted and carried around.

I loved watching the parade of Moi people, missionaries, and dignitaries carrying boxes of Bibles down the airstrip, along the foot paths, through the hamlet, over pig fences, and to the sports gym where the ceremony was held.

During the dedication ceremony, the Moi people sang, chanting in harmony. All involved in the translation work went forward. Speeches were made. A Bible was ceremonially given to each Moi clan, as well as to MAF and other support organizations.  “We couldn’t have done it without you all!” said Steve, a longtime missionary to the Moi people.

One of the Moi believers had this to say: “Regarding this book, it’s in our language. It’s ours. But, even more, the purpose contained in it is for causing us to live well. And for that reason, the joy in my heart is beyond words!”

After the dedication, a video chat was set up so the 35 Moi students who are studying in Jakarta could speak with their parents and hear all about the Bible dedication. The students received their Moi Bibles the same day!

That afternoon while sitting on the porch, Steve translated for me as I asked one of the key church leaders, “How does it feel to have the Bible in Moi?” He answered, “I am thinking about the timing of the printing of it. We are so happy it is a time when we are not old. We now have the Word of God in our hands, and we can start using it for the rest of our lives. We’re very happy about that.”

He continued, “When you first hear God’s talk you’re thinking ‘Is this some kind of legend or fairy tale?’ Now I know this is God’s word, He’s talking to us! It’s the truth!”

Story ran in the Vol. 2 2024 edition of FlightWatch. Read the entire issue here:

The post God’s Word Changing Hearts appeared first on Mission Aviation Fellowship.

Working with manuals and data might not seem like most people’s idea of a good time. But Joey Martin, International Director of Quality, said, “Everyone can get behind a system that will improve our overall safety.”

Joey began his MAF career as a pilot/mechanic in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), where he and his wife, Kathleen, served for eight years. There is a lot of need in the DRC, but they consistently saw Christ-followers meeting those needs in creative ways.

“There were Bible translation projects we were supporting, humanitarian responses to various crises—like malaria, typhoid, Ebola, sleeping sickness—evangelism and discipleship efforts, transporting literally tons of medicine for hospitals, flying sick or injured patients to places where they could receive care, and bringing short-term teams for specific projects,” he said.

Joey especially enjoyed flying Bible translators. “A single flight for that missionary usually will not make or break the entire project,” Joey said. “But the faithfulness of MAF over many years will make it possible for the translator to accomplish their work.”

Then the Martins moved to Lesotho, where they appreciated the interpersonal relationships with the team. “Most of the flying in Lesotho is in support of medical work in remote mountain clinics. It was a joy to be part of meeting the very tangible needs of the Basotho people,” said Joey.

After three years in Lesotho, the Martins returned to MAF headquarters as Joey’s job changed.

“My experience as a pilot/mechanic, and in safety and quality, provided the background necessary to perform our internal audits and to understand how the various pieces of the aviation puzzle fit together,” Joey said. “Looking back, I can see how God was preparing me.”

These days, Joey spends his time on manuals, revisions, audits, data, and spreadsheets. “My job sounds quite boring to most people, but I love it!” he said.

And it all contributes to greater and greater operational safety for all MAF staff serving around the globe.

With seventeen years spent as part of MAF, the Martins have a more mature perspective than they did as freshly minted missionaries. “The daily troubles, the struggles to get electricity and clean drinking water, the loneliness, the interpersonal conflicts, and the losses—these things can bring discouragement in the moment,” Kathleen said. “But the Lord uses all of it. We only have to be faithful to do what he gives us to do each day, and then trust that he has a bigger plan than what we can see.”

The Martins are looking for new ministry partners to pray for their ministry and provide financial support. To join their team, visit www.maf.org/jmartin.

Story ran in the Vol. 2 2024 edition of FlightWatch. Read the entire issue here:

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I’m happy to say that Timmy the tarantula, my roommate in the Amazon jungle, did not disturb me one bit. Honestly, I don’t think he even moved from his spot by the door while I was in Panintza, Ecuador.

Now that we have the issue of the spider out of the way, I want to give you a glimpse of what it looks like when Lem Malabuyo (MAF’s video producer) and I do interviews in a foreign context. On day two of our stay, we interviewed MAF teammates Sixto and Wilson in between their teaching sessions. A translator conveyed my questions for them in Spanish and then paraphrased the answers back to me in English.

We also interviewed a few other people, including the schoolteacher, a former president of the village, and a young couple who walked for three hours through the jungle to be present for Sixto and Wilson’s teaching of God’s Word.

Some of the families lived on the other side of the river so, later in the afternoon, we crossed over in dugout canoes (another first for me). Then, it was a steep hike up the side of a hill on a makeshift staircase made of halved logs.

We were warmly greeted by one of the husbands, who treated us to some delicious fruit, which he knocked down from a tree with a stick. It looked sort of like a tangelo but, inside, the flesh was white and not pulpy (yay), just juicy. I had two and they were so refreshing, especially since it was quite warm and humid by then.

Next, we walked over to one of the homes and interviewed Olmedo and his wife, Nelly. We sat on the floor of a big front room. The entire home was covered by a beautiful and intricate thatched roof. Most of the houses were set up like this, with one closed-off room at the back, where I’m guessing they slept.

Olmeda said that before MAF came to teach them God’s Word, “they were dancing, drinking, and doing everything in the world. That’s the way we were.”  

“Now we have changed. We have left the things we were doing and now we want to continue in the new life,” Olmeda added.

I thought you might enjoy this short clip from the end of the interview, where Olmedo recited one of his favorite verses.

Last-minute visits

On Wednesday, we expected the MAF plane to arrive late morning, so we hurried off to visit another family. They had invited us to their home for breakfast. So around 8:00 we walked to the other end of the airstrip and then stepped carefully through a wet, muddy, and slippery forest.

Once we reached the home, we ventured to their kitchen and watched them prepare boiled bananas. When everything was ready, we ate together in their front room.

After breakfast, we interviewed the husband (the wife didn’t want to be in the video). Then, we thanked the couple, said our goodbyes, and started our hike back to the center of the village.

Walking through the rainforest here is like a symphony for the senses. First, you take in the beauty; it is something else. Then there are the sounds, from the sloshing of our shoes as we walked to the chorus of bugs and the accompanying bird calls. (Click on the photo below for audio.)

Lem, and brothers Levi and Daniel (translators), happened upon a fallen log in the path and noticed leafcutter ants streaming over it. Of course, Lem had to capture that on film before continuing down the path. As we were exiting the forest, I heard a commotion behind me and turned around to see Lem crouched down. An ant was tugging on his shoelace so he was using a leaf to remove it before it could bite him through his sock. But as he did so, the ant bit his finger through the leaf and drew blood!  

That is one bug bite he will probably never forget.

Rain delays and goodbyes

Back in the village, Lem and I and the translators started packing up our stuff. Then, the rain really started coming down. We moved from shelter to shelter as we waited for it to let up, and realized our flight was going to be delayed.

Morning turned into afternoon and things began to dry up. We had no idea if MAF was coming, because the village radio was broken. Since all our things were ready to go, we joined one last worship time at the church. The people knew we were leaving, so they asked the four of us to lead a few songs in English. They wanted to hear what it would sound like.

So we sang these two songs from their songbook.

Top: “I have decided to follow Jesus”

Bottom: “I have the joy, joy” (joy, joy down in my heart)

After the short service, we had some free time. Lem took off to get overhead shots with the drone, and I kicked the soccer ball around with some of the young women.

Finally, around 3:30 we heard a man shouting, “the plane is coming.” I couldn’t hear a thing, but somehow his ears picked it up from far away. We started grabbing our backpacks and the camera gear and headed down to the airstrip. Sixto and Wilson would have to wait until the next day to return, since only one airplane could make it in. We arrived back in Shell by 5:00.

Thursday and Friday we did interviews in the hangar, then Saturday was a sightseeing day. On Sunday, we made it to the Waorani church in the morning and then it was time to start our drive to the Quito airport. Sadly, our time in Ecuador was coming to an end.  

The post Saying goodbye to the Amazon appeared first on Mission Aviation Fellowship.

This is the third in a series of stories about my visit to MAF Ecuador’s program in early December. If you missed the earlier ones, start with the first story here, and then read the second one here.

“Where will we sleep in the jungle? I asked Cristina, MAF Ecuador’s administrative assistant and our main contact for the week.

It was Monday morning in Shell, Ecuador, and our group was at the MAF hangar. We would soon be boarding a Cessna 206 for our flight into the Amazon jungle to visit the small community of Panintza. 

“You’ll be tent camping,” Cristina answered.

I immediately wondered how our tents would hold up under the torrential downpours, and then a more pressing question came to mind. “Would we have to dig a hole for a toilet?”

She looked at me quizzically, as if it were a strange thing to ask. I can’t imagine why. I believe her answer was, “There’s a structure.”

Okay, good. I was sure whatever form of “toilet” was in said structure I had experienced by now in my travels with MAF, including the following: bucket-flush toilets; a long-drop toilet; squatty potties; and a thorn bush.

By mid-morning, it was time to board the airplane along with MAF chaplain Sixto and two local missionary teen brothers who would serve as our translators and help us conduct interviews in Spanish. Soon we were airborne with pilot Danny and flying over the Amazon jungle, which looked like a forest of broccoli from the air.

Forty-five minutes later we landed on the short grass airstrip at Panintza. As we taxied to the end of the strip, people were already coming out from the center of the village to help us carry our cargo, and the food gifts the MAF team had sent.

As we followed Sixto with our gear, two things became clear to me: 1) We were sleeping in tents but we’d be in a simple, raised wooden home, with two rooms and a large covered front porch. Four of the guys would be on the porch, Sixto had a room with all the food and supplies, and I had my own room. So we would not need to worry about the rain getting to our stuff, and the tents would keep the bugs out.

And (perhaps more importantly) 2) There was an outhouse nearby with a squatty potty.

Hospitality in the jungle

We dropped off our stuff and headed over to the large covered area where the community usually gathered—an open-sided structure with a tin roof. We sat on wooden benches at the front and Sixto introduced us and explained that we were there to gather stories for MAF’s supporters. Then some of the leaders came forward and made short speeches to welcome us.

There were maybe 30 or 40 people—adults and children—gathered under the shelter. One of the men shared how they live off the land. Everything they eat comes from the jungle, through hunting, fishing, or whatever is growing there.

Another man shared, “It was not Sixto’s will that we become Christians. It was God’s will.”

It was amazing to me that they were so new in their faith. MAF was in its second year of serving here. A team visits for three days each month to disciple the believers and train church leaders.

The women made lunch for the entire village and set up tables for us in another sheltered spot. There were bowls of hot broth with some sort of meat, small fish, and boiled plantains. When we asked what the meat was, someone told us it was a small horse. Come to find out, it was tapir.

After lunch, the guys started playing volleyball in the hot sun … with a soccer ball! Developed in Ecuador, “ecuavóley” is the national sport. It seemed to require even more energy than a regular volleyball game because of the heavier ball, and the rules were different.

I sat with the women in the shade of the main shelter. They were shy and sweet, and laughed a lot. They spoke Spanish, so I was able to communicate a tiny bit. I knew how to ask how many children and/or grandchildren they had, and to say how many I had. After those questions, all I could think to do was to show them pictures of my grandsons (almost 2 and almost 4 years old) on my phone. Some things are universal it seems, even in the jungle. 

Nighttime approaches, and so do the bugs

Just before 5:00, Sixto’s booming, jovial voice called the people to come to the church for the evening service. Soon, entire families arrived and began to find a seat.

They sang several worship songs in Spanish and Shiwiar (pronounced Shiviar), their native language. Then Sixto preached from Romans 6:1-8 and shared a list of “7 Reasons Why Not to Sin.”

It felt very much like Christianity 101—rich, basic truths that every believer should know but with culturally relevant examples for people who live in a jungle setting.

As it was getting dark, someone set up a projector and they began to play a short film about Jesus. Sixto and Wilson (the other MAF teammate who arrived on a later flight) left the church when the movie started. Lem and I and the translators went to find them and discovered they were heating water for hot chocolate or milk and had rolls with tuna for our MAF team.

We enjoyed our evening snack by candlelight, where the bugs came out in full force. Then it was time to get ready for bed, so I went to my room to grab my toothbrush and toothpaste by flashlight. As I was doing this, Lem says, “Hey Jenn, did you know you have a roommate?”

I turned around to see him by the door, his headlamp illuminating a spot next to the door frame.

There, hiding within its web, was a good-sized TARANTULA!

While I was mortified, the guys thought it was hilarious and promptly nicknamed it “Timmy.”

Of course I would get the room with the large spider! They assured me it would only come out at night to eat the bugs. It was a good thing, they said.

##

Would I be able to sleep knowing that Timmy was nearby? What would the next two days hold for me in Panintza? You’ll have to wait for my next installment to find out.

The post <strong>In the Amazon jungle</strong> appeared first on Mission Aviation Fellowship.

But God already had something in mind for my last visit to a remote village in the western part of the country.

Normally, I work at MAF headquarters as a writer. But I was here visiting our programs in the DRC for the first time, along with MAF’s video producer, Lem Malabuyo, to do interviews with our partners and staff. We had previously developed a list of subjects to interview. Since schedules and flights could easily change, we went with open hands, willing to accept whatever the Lord made available to us.

Our initial plan to interview a medical missionary couple at the Vanga Evangelical Hospital didn’t work out, as they were out of the country. Still, we were happy to tag along on this training flight for one of the pilots who needed to be checked-out at Vanga.

Once we landed, Lem went off to set up on the side of the airstrip to film the training flights (aka takeoffs and landings). As I started walking away from the airplane, a woman approached. One of the pilots introduced me to Marta Klein, an expat medical missionary.

She told me a bit of her history and how she serves in the northwest part of the country with the Congo Covenant Church, as well as at the hospital in Vanga. She’s trained as a physician’s assistant and focuses on nutrition and continuing education for local doctors and nurses.

MAF had flown her and two nurses from Kinshasa to Vanga the previous week so they could teach nurses at the Vanga hospital the “Helping Babies Breathe” class for resuscitating newborns.

The name of the course was familiar to me from past stories I’d worked on.

“Are the nurses here now?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she said, pointing toward the hangar building.

She mentioned they were waiting for their MAF flight. Turns out they would be on the return flight to Kinshasa with us! I told her I’d like to talk with them, so we headed in their direction.

Marta introduced me and explained what I was doing in the DRC, and that I had some questions for them.

One of the men agreed to speak and Marta served as translator, since he spoke Lingala.

I asked how many people they had trained over the past week.

“We came to do the training with six people beforehand,” answered Alphonse NDOMBE, an obstetrical nurse, sonogram technician, and a teacher at a nursing school. “We have a method called Train the Trainers, where we trained six people and then those six people will train six more people. So we have trained a total of 12 this last week.

“We do the training in groups of two, so they will be able to go out and train the rest of the doctors and nurses that are in the Vanga Health Zone.”

“Has he flown with MAF other times for this work?” I asked.

“We were able to use MAF to work with the Paul Carlson partnership,” he said. “We got on the plane in Gemena and we flew to Wasolo, and we did another training there.”

I recognized the organization he mentioned, and when he said Wasolo, something clicked in my mind. I had written a story about that a few years back …

“Was this when they had run out of a special gel for the umbilical cord?” I asked.

“It was,” Marta said. “We were having difficulty obtaining that medication. And then we were able to get it right at the end of the trip.”

Suddenly, I realized I was with the people who had a part in that earlier story. I was so excited that I may have hopped up and down a few times (well, truthfully, I did).

Marta explained to them why I was jumping. They seemed to understand and shared in my joy with a chuckle or two.

But really, it was just one of many times on this visit to the DRC where God surprised me with an unexpected gift like this one.

When I asked what they had accomplished on the Wasolo trip, Alphonse replied:

“Since we did the training, and they [the doctors and nurses] were using the chlorhexidine gel and following the protocol we taught, they were able to reduce the neonatal mortality rate in that region.”

After the chat with the nurses, Marta shared with me how MAF helps them reach Vanga, which otherwise could take up to 15 hours or more by road.

“We’re very grateful for MAF offering their services to fly from Kinshasa to Vanga, because it only takes one hour and 15 minutes,” Marta said. “It’s much more convenient, and I feel it is much safer because there are so many accidents that happen on the road. And not just accidents, but also there’s a risk of getting robbed or worse.”

When asked if she had a message for MAF’s supporters, Marta said, “I really want to thank people who donate to this ministry … It’s life-changing, it’s lifesaving, and it’s time-saving as well for missionaries and local people.”

The post A Last-Minute Gift appeared first on Mission Aviation Fellowship.

My phone buzzes at 5:27 a.m. on a Saturday morning. As the on-call pilot, I knew this could happen, but sometimes we go all weekend without a Code 1 medical emergency call.

The flight follower, Pokello, tells me of a 16-year-old expectant mother whose labor is stalled, and the baby is in distress. The flight will be from Manamaneng to the district hospital in Thaba Tseka.

I inhale some coffee and my wife’s delicious cinnamon twists, and head to the airport to preflight the plane. I take off and touch down in Manamaneng just before 8 a.m. The young mother in labor and nurse Puseletso walk toward the plane. One look at the fear and pain on the girl’s face shows the seriousness of the situation.

I strap them into their seats, run through my checklists, and quickly say a prayer before we take off.

The flight to Thaba Tseka usually takes 15 minutes, but considering the girl’s suffering and the possibility of a birth enroute, I choose to fly the aircraft at maximum continuous power. Ten minutes later, we land and taxi to the waiting ambulance. The ambulance will take the girl directly to the OR for a C-Section. Mission accomplished!

After dropping nurse Puseletso off at Manamaneng, I make the 40-minute return flight to our base at Maseru. The aircraft is refueled and put back in the hangar.

As we depart, Pokello makes a joke about how we might meet again. I am home 20 minutes when the phone rings. It’s Pokello again! A critical patient needs a flight from the district hospital in Qachas Nek to Maseru for more advanced treatment.

Our friend, Tebello, who lives at our home and is also a private pilot, jumps at the chance to come along on the flight. I am glad to bring along someone who is familiar with aircraft and  a native Sesotho speaker.

Just before noon, we lift off from Maseru enroute to Qachas Nek. The joy on Tebello’s face as she serves as autopilot is unmistakable! I retake the controls for the landing.

My phone is ringing as I shut down the plane. Who could it be? You guessed it…Pokello! He has another Code 1 for me. A newborn baby in distress needs to get to the district hospital at Qachas Nek. The mother and baby are at Lebakeng, a 10-minute flight (but 5-hour drive) away.

Change of plans! We put the original patient at Qachas Nek on hold, fly to Lebakeng and collect the mother and baby, and bring them to Qachas Nek.

Despite a strong crosswind at Lebakeng, by God’s grace we have a stable approach and a smooth landing. It’s only 1 p.m. but already this is feeling like a full day.  

The baby needs oxygen, and fortunately our portable oxygen bottle is on board. After securing the bottle to the floor of the aircraft and loading the mother and baby, we are off again, back to the district hospital at Qachas Nek. Though we do not have a nurse onboard, the attentive mother constantly adjusts the oxygen canula to make sure it is flowing to her tiny newborn. Sometimes Code 1 flights bring great joy, and this is one, as I see the love in the eyes of this mother for her child.

Arriving overhead Qacha, the windsocks tell me to set up for a “downhill” landing. On final approach, I realize the wind has shifted and my groundspeed is over my briefed limit. Time for a go around! I power up, climb out, and land from the other direction. Everything is within limits, and we touch down smoothly. The “ambulance”—a truck with a canopy—is waiting to pick up baby and mom and give us the original Code 1 for evacuation to Maseru.

The patient from Qacha has ingested a poison and is semi-conscious, requiring a stretcher and oxygen. To load the patient, I reconfigure the aircraft by removing two seats and installing the stretcher.

Tebello, speaking Sesotho, helps coordinate the loading of the patient along with the attending nurse and a porter, while I secure seats, stow bags, hang an IV drip, route oxygen lines, secure tie downs for the stretcher, calculate weight, estimate takeoff distance, and complete checklists.

Just before I start the engine, Tebello prays in Sesotho for the patient and for our flight. After the pressure of all the preparation, I feel a wave of peace and gratefulness as we level off at cruise altitude with the beautiful green mountains sliding by underneath. I look back to see the patient sleeping peacefully. After a few minutes of mental rest, it’s time to regain my focus and prepare for my eighth landing of the day. It’s just under a one-hour flight by the time my plane comes to a stop at Maseru, and then the patient is loaded onto the ambulance.

As the siren of the ambulance fades into afternoon traffic, we get to work; the day is not yet done! Pokello, Tebello, and I prepare the aircraft again for another possible Code 1 by fueling and cleaning it. As we depart the hangar for our homes, I joke with Pokello that he is not allowed to predict another Code 1! And he doesn’t. About 3:30 that afternoon I arrive home with Tebello to a late lunch.

It was a full day of bringing help, hope, and healing through aviation to isolated people. I am tired, but joyful to be part of an organization that allows me to use my gifts and talents in a tangible way to share the love of Jesus Christ with the people of Lesotho.

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