The muezzin overslept, so no 5am interruptions. My washed shirts don't seem to have dried one iota, and my left hearing aid's developed the dysfunctional repetitive clicking that it did in India. I put it in the fridge for half an hour, in case the electronics had overheated, and it only temporarily worked again properly. This means that all day I was withdrawing socially.
We got down to the building housing Pastor David's church and found the whole neighbourhood choked with parked cars. I jumped out and set up for presentations. The sessions went well, and we weren't translating - I was expecting Nyanja. At the lunch-break interval there was no sign of the food.
Because the host church we holding its own lunchtime fellowship our delegates were left wandering around a bit aimlessly. We regathered having not eaten, and then took a second break. The sunshine outside was hot and bright. The food was set up in an open concourse available for the just such purpose for premises users. It was a huge spread and I wished we could have done the whole arrangement more justice!
When we finished, we similarly had to vacate in a hurry to make way for another fellowship group. They can't be accused of under-utilising the premises. Listening in the the lunchtime preaching, I heard again that some quick-fix nugget of revelation was going to release us into a season of blessing and breakthrough. I don't think this constant one-sided anointing emphasis squares with the New Testament's teaching on the flesh being our enemy and the need for a process of sanctification. I'll ask Steven.
We were caught in rush-hour traffic on hour way back at the Villa Lodge (opposite the Salvation Army Centre). Zambia seems to have skipped over the customary economic progress route from bicycle to motorbike to car, and 4x4s abound. The WiFi's fixed at last, and 204 emails flood my Inbox. I manage to get up to date on posting blogs.
We were due to eat at Robbie and Harriet's new home on the massive eastern side development at 7.30pm. We set off at 9.00pm. They're the couple who had arranged our lift from the coach station and sorted us out with the use of a car. I wasn't feeling like engaging - a big late lunch, unable to participate in conversation, and anxious about our early start tomorrow for the 11.15am flight to Malawi. We bumped and splashed along an un-made-up road with new detached and floodlit walled-and-gated houses on both sides. The owners have boreholes for their water supply, as properties are going up faster than the city can extend utilities.
Another huge and tasty spread. The home is spacious and well appointed, but as ever, the build quality is lousy. Our own accommodation has ill-fitting doors and tacky furniture. Robbie is a commercial lawyer (trained in Birmingham) for the near-monopoly Zesco utilities company. Harriet works with refugee issues in the Home office. Robbie's ten mile daily commute, starting at 6.00am, takes an hour-and three-quarters. At 11.00pm we make our farewells, and Len comments, "There's a real opening for a quality building firm round here." I'm not sure what he has in mind.
We're back home in half an hour and I set my alarm for 6.00am, a bit earlier than usual.
We got down to the building housing Pastor David's church and found the whole neighbourhood choked with parked cars. I jumped out and set up for presentations. The sessions went well, and we weren't translating - I was expecting Nyanja. At the lunch-break interval there was no sign of the food.
Because the host church we holding its own lunchtime fellowship our delegates were left wandering around a bit aimlessly. We regathered having not eaten, and then took a second break. The sunshine outside was hot and bright. The food was set up in an open concourse available for the just such purpose for premises users. It was a huge spread and I wished we could have done the whole arrangement more justice!
When we finished, we similarly had to vacate in a hurry to make way for another fellowship group. They can't be accused of under-utilising the premises. Listening in the the lunchtime preaching, I heard again that some quick-fix nugget of revelation was going to release us into a season of blessing and breakthrough. I don't think this constant one-sided anointing emphasis squares with the New Testament's teaching on the flesh being our enemy and the need for a process of sanctification. I'll ask Steven.
We were caught in rush-hour traffic on hour way back at the Villa Lodge (opposite the Salvation Army Centre). Zambia seems to have skipped over the customary economic progress route from bicycle to motorbike to car, and 4x4s abound. The WiFi's fixed at last, and 204 emails flood my Inbox. I manage to get up to date on posting blogs.
We were due to eat at Robbie and Harriet's new home on the massive eastern side development at 7.30pm. We set off at 9.00pm. They're the couple who had arranged our lift from the coach station and sorted us out with the use of a car. I wasn't feeling like engaging - a big late lunch, unable to participate in conversation, and anxious about our early start tomorrow for the 11.15am flight to Malawi. We bumped and splashed along an un-made-up road with new detached and floodlit walled-and-gated houses on both sides. The owners have boreholes for their water supply, as properties are going up faster than the city can extend utilities.
Another huge and tasty spread. The home is spacious and well appointed, but as ever, the build quality is lousy. Our own accommodation has ill-fitting doors and tacky furniture. Robbie is a commercial lawyer (trained in Birmingham) for the near-monopoly Zesco utilities company. Harriet works with refugee issues in the Home office. Robbie's ten mile daily commute, starting at 6.00am, takes an hour-and three-quarters. At 11.00pm we make our farewells, and Len comments, "There's a real opening for a quality building firm round here." I'm not sure what he has in mind.
We're back home in half an hour and I set my alarm for 6.00am, a bit earlier than usual.
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