The Start of the Rainy Season

Today the rainy season began with a cloudburst that continued for an hour, with great bangs and flashes overhead! Rivers of water were running across the garden, some joining with the flood going down the drive to join the torrent running along the main road, and some running quietly down the slope at the back of the garden to disappear into the thick undergrowth and reappear in the foaming stream in the valley a distance away.

As I write, the rain is still pouring down outside, and will probably go on for a few more hours. Henry the dog is pacing up and down in the living room, trembling with fear, while Cara lies peacefully on the tiled floor in the kitchen. The wind is blowing the rain across our veranda so there is nowhere outside where the dogs can remain dry.

Alfred, our houseboy, tells us that the village people will begin to plant their maize; they are now sure that there will be a good rainy season.

It was two years ago that the rains never came, and people, already poor, became destitute as their crops shrivelled under the tropical sun.

Now that the rains have begun, the temperature has dropped to a cool 79ᵒF, very much more bearable than it has been.

In recent days, Janet or myself have returned like limp dish-rags from collecting the children from school in Blantyre. We have tried not to take a half-hour nap after lunch when the heat is greatest, because it is a chunk out of the day. But it seems that we haven't been able to get very much done whether we have rested or whether we haven't.

I was down at Nchalo in the Great Rift Valley for an AABC seminar for pastors and church leaders on Saturday 30th October. Being only about 300ft above sea level (if I read the contours on my map correctly), the temperature must have been about 100ᵒF. There was a good wind blowing which made it worse rather than better - rather like being in a fan-assisted oven - and by the end of the day my shirt contained folds of brown mud where dust carried by the wind had met up with the sweat running down my back.

We were invited to stay over on the Saturday night so that we could speak to another meeting of pastors, but by common consent we headed for home and cold showers.

Some weeks ago, when we were at Chikwawa, a few miles along the road from Nchalo, I asked a pastor "How do you manage with the heat." He replied "We are used to it; it is not a problem to us." But I don't think we would last very long if we had to live there; the heat is exhausting and we would soon be sick.

To date, there have been four AABC seminars for pastors and church leaders (both men and women) at Nsanje, down in the south of the country, Mulanje over to the south east, Thyolo just a few miles south of here, and Nchalo which is south-west from here as the vulture flies.

The first two seminars had attendances of about 40, but there were nearer 80 at Thyolo.

Although the letters to invite pastors to the Nchalo meeting had been sent out two weeks in advance of the meeting, only two people had received letters, and another 25 had been contacted by word of mouth, so turnout was poor.

There appears to be a real interest in the seminars which is very heartening. We do not provide transport to the meeting, or food during the lunch break, although we do provide a cup of sweet, milky tea - the way they like it! We have heard many say "We will not come unless you provide everything for us." We have felt, however, that this will only reinforce the "aid mentality" that is so prevalent in this country, and that even if we could afford to provide what is requested by many, it would be counter-productive.

Some people say "We are so poor in Malawi. We have so little. You must support our churches and pastors if people are to respond to the gospel."

It seems so plausible until you consider whether the early church during the Acts period were economically better off than the average Malawian is today. I think the converse was probably true, and yet the church expanded powerfully as the lives of the people were changed by the power and love of God and identification with the cross of Christ.

A year or two ago, Loren Cunningham, the founder of YWAM, came to Malawi and spoke at meetings in Blantyre. He told the church that the blessings of God were restricted here because the people had never been taught to give. I believe that this hits the nail right on the head.

When we first came to Malawi, it was in response to the words of the Lord Jesus "Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel." After we had been here for a while, having to find our way in the things that relate to daily living - which seemed to take up so much of the time - I began to wonder if it might not be better to be resident in the UK, but making sorties a few times a year to Africa.

Now I am convinced that it would never work. It is only through daily contact with the local people, through actually living here and putting up with the inconveniences of life, that one can become really relevant to the local situation. There has to be a price to pay for relevance. The gospel of God is free to all, but there is always a price to be paid.