Day Tripper

I always get excited when our team talks about the vision we’ve all adopted—starting here in Lopit and slowly spreading out to the nine other unreached tribes as the years go by.
Saturday, I got a little taste of how that would be, and it got me even more excited.
I’ve taken to riding Steve’s bike in the morning—a replacement for my running, since my legs went kaput in Nairobi (there’s a prayer request for you). Saturday I decided it would be fun to ride to a neighboring group of villages, about a 30K ride roundtrip on the dirt roads. So I packed my language book and a banana and took off.
The villages around here are all of one bigger tribe, but they all speak languages that are a tiny bit different—often times, they hang on to the dissimilarities just so they can claim superiority over the other villages. That’s the case with the mountain range I live in. The teachers claim that our specific dialect is the best, that -------- is the richest language and if you learn it, you can learn all other languages (not just in the tribe, mind you—in the WORLD). Funny how such a rich language doesn’t even have a word for “fun” or “love” or “family.” Ha.
Anyway, it was awesome to get out and meet a whole other group of people. The place I went to was called Wolli-Wolli (best village name EVER). It reminded me of our first days here in Lopit—the people gawking, the children crying in fear. I actually came up to this small child on a rock and he fell backward off it, he was so startled by me. Whoops.
They were amazed that this white girl was speaking the words of ---------, especially when they’d talk about me with one another and I’d answer the questions they were asking. We laughed and laughed.
I was reminded again of my night out with the teenagers, when they all sat around Kim and my feet and said, “Tell us the story of America ,” ready to listen to our every word. Once again, I saw a ready audience for the Gospel.
Beyond Husa.
Beyond ---------.
The fields are white with the harvest!