Sending Forth...

Many years have passed since my dad signed me up for youth soccer at Eden Christian Academy. It was then, in kindergarten that I first put on a soccer jersey. I played for about 5 years after that and then hung up my cleats to retire from the game and try baseball then basketball, golf, football and then track and field. Now some 16 years later I have found myself back on the soccer field playing alongside a group of junior professionals that are called the “bad boys” or their official team name “Gabby Stars”. The “bad boys” have an interesting history in regards to how they came out of their former street lives to use their soccer skills and be taught the word of God. One man, David Audu (a former professional player in Europe) saw the need in his community to reach out to the “bad boys”. The bad boys were notorious for doing bad things and the community was very corrupted because of their influence. David, a big strong and scary man, began to approach them and tell them he wanted them to change and he offered to help them change their lives and he gave them an opportunity to play the game all Nigerians love. The bad boys began to come to training and he would challenge them and preach to them and urge them to stop living the lives they were and to come to Christ. Many, if not all, responded. Today there is now about 30 current players while many others have been changed and gone on to other careers having a relationship with Christ and no longer living for the Devil. I have had the privilege since May to be the official team “chaplain” as I have been given the opportunity to teach and pray with the players…sometimes I even laced up my cleats and trained with them. Sometimes I would be very humbled but during one practice I actually scored a goal and the onlookers went wild. I’ve quite enjoyed the opportunity to be around them and learned their broken English and just get to know Africa, Nigeria and them all better. Now that I am planning on leaving soon they decided to have a send forth game in my honor and give me the captains arm band for the match. They tried as hard as they could to let me score a goal and even the referee purposively called a penalty kick so that I could have a chance to score. I told them I did not want any handouts and I even declined the kick but we still went on to win the game 3-2. After the match I gave my shoes to the coach (picture below) and although he won’t fit them he may take them and sell them so he can have a nice pair of his own.

The pictures here are of the match. The picture of me with #5 is my best friend here, his name is Wasiu and he is an extremely good soccer player. He is also one of the first boys rescued from the streets where he once lived for 6 years. Today he is a mature young man and he wants to use soccer to minister to his own people and one day he hops to help street children in Brazil. The first picture (above) is of my last night worshiping with the boys that I’ve grown to love and cherish. In the picture the boys are dancing and singing to their African songs. Nigeria has been great and it’s getting harder each day to say goodbye.

Another Day

 Another day

Or so it seemed

When I heard the words

I would’ve never dreamed

 

“He didn’t live”

Were the words I heard

They pierced my heart

Like a two-edged sword

 

I remember that day,

The smell of the air,

The weight of my heart,

The overwhelming despair

 

Trying to move on

Were the difficult years

For often my eyes

Would swell up with tears

 

The seasons were the worst

Because he was no longer there

The hardest part…

Seeing my mother in despair

 

Six feet under

But close to the heart

Memories of my brother

Never depart

 

The months began to pass

But him I would not let go

Until reality set in

And I realized it was so

 

Emotions still linger

As the years pass by

The pain grows stronger

Under the October sky

 

Sometimes my dreams

Try to bring him back

But when I awake

His presence I lack

 

Hundreds of thoughts

Often flood my mind

He was my brother, my friend,

One of a kind

 

And though his death

I will never forget

I believe in heaven

With him I will sit

 

It hurts, I won’t lie

When I think of his life

But I look to tomorrow

And the end of this strife

 

As I stay

Upon this earth of old

Memories of him

Will never grow cold

 

I often think of him

With whom I once played

My memories of him

Will never fade

 

On that day

When we meet again

We will dance for the Lord

And feed from his hand

 

But for now

As the years go by

In my heart

You will never die

 

O God why?

Is often the cry in my pain

But then I look at the cross

And see His Son slain

 

My brother?, Christ?

On a cross for us all?

Absurd! Insane!

Yet redeemed from the fall!

 

My brother Jesus

What a perfect loss

For His life was given

To bring me to His cross

 

I once lost a brother

Better than them all

I then found Christ

My All in All

 

“It pleased the Lord to crush Him”

That’s what the prophet said

Now I’ll live again

Even after I’m dead

 

Though it hurts

To wallow in pain

For the price of my sin

His own Son was slain

 

Believe on Christ

And you too will live

The blessings of salvation

To all He will give

 

The choice is yours

He is the One Who can save

Flee to Him

Before you reach your grave

 

A perfect gift

Is awaiting you

Run to Jesus

And be made new

 

It was foolish to question You

But now I know why

You opened my eyes

You allowed him to die

 

When we meet again

No one can say

For now I wait

For another day

In memory of Ricky, my brother and my friend.

July 18, 1981---October 6, 1999

some pictures for you all

camp week

Not a whole lot to say so I've just given you some pictures to enjoy. This past week was camp week and this year I was assigned to the junior camp with about 120 kids or so. The week was a lot of fun but of course it was tiring and energy draining. This past Sunday I preached at EBC and then I preached yesterday(8-23-09) the second part of the message. This week I will travel and be gone for about 3-4 weeks and should be back mid-late September so I've also been preparing for what I will do when I visit the place I am going. So, with camp week, back-to-back preaching, and preparing to travel for a month all happening at the same time, I've found myself a little tired but excited about everything God is doing here in Nigeria.

Enjoy the pictures...

Pic of the week

This weeks picture(s) of the week were taken out in the bush as my pastor and I traveled interior into the bush to baptize five new believers from one of our daughter churches. The road was rough all the way into the village and one point we had to just ditch the car and trek by foot to where the believers were all waiting. It was a neat experience trekking with the believers to the water where 5 of them were going to be baptized. As we trekked we sang songs along the path and then returned to the fellowship hall for communion.

My pastor could really use a nice vehicle that would enable him to go interior to where others will not go. If this interests you let me know.

Here are some pics of the day.

picture of the "weak"

With three weeks to go before I return to the states I find myself laid up on my bed nursing a badly sprained ankle. The injury took place on Saturday afternoon while playing a game of ultimate frisbee with some Westerner's and a few of my Nigerian friends. I sprained my left ankle as I went up for a pass and came down on another player’s foot. The result was what you see here. As I lay in bed I’ve really enjoyed the time to read and just think. Injuries are tough because pf the pain and the lasting effects but I believe God uses them to slow you down and encourage a little introspection. Paul says “examine yourselves”, which, is exactly what I am trying to do.

"sermon on the mount"

This past Sunday I had the wonderful privilege of preaching at the site where our local church formerly met for fellowship. During the Jos crisis in November of 2008 the building was tore down and left in a pile of rubble. The believers at the church are strong and committed and will not de shaken. The last Sunday of every month they go up to the mountain to worship together and hear from God’s word despite the onlookers who don’t like us being there. This past week I went up to the mountain for the first time and I preached from “Yahaya sura goma sha hudu, aya shida” which of course is “John chapter fourteen verse six”. It wasn’t exactly a “sermon on the mount” but it was a sermon on a hill. I wish I had better pictures but what you see here was taken by a 10 year old boy who I taught how to take pictures. The boy just so happens to be my pastor’s son, his name is Emmanuel.

The picture of the week is in honor of the courage and determination of the believers to press on despite the fierce persecution and tribulations that the last 8 years have presented to them.

Picture of the Week-Ibraham

For those of you who remember my friend Ibraham, here is a picture of us recently. I was talking to him the other night (through a translator) and found out that he used to have a Bible but it was taken from him when he went out to farm one day. He said he would love to have another one so I asked him in which language. He said he would like one in the Hausa language. This week I will be able to present him with a Bible to replace the one that he had stolen. There are many other’s like Ibraham who hold another faith but it is my prayer that they will come to salvation. Pray along with me for Ibraham and his students. He reminds me of Nicodemus in John chapter 3 who was a teacher but still didn't know the things about Jesus Christ.

The picture of the week is of Ibraham and I sitting in front of his house...

In Nigeria, if you are a father or a mother it is common and appropriate to just call you “baba” (father) or “mama” (mother). If your child’s name is Joseph, or Stephen or Bryan then you can be called “baba Joseph, or Baba Stephen” and so on. The same works for the women. My mother can be called “mama Joseph, or Mama Julia, Valerie, etc..”. My pastor, Reverend SundayGwomna, has become a Nigerian father to me so it is fine if I refer to him as “baba”. We spend a lot of time together visiting members of our church and just talking and having a cold minerals (bottle of soda) together. He has become a great friend and source of encouragement and wisdom. He is a very busy man because he is the only pastor of our local church plus he has had a lot to deal with the last 8 years with the attacks upon our church but he has handled it all marvelously and with much love and patience. I’ve really grown to love and appreciate him and his/my “family”. The picture of the week is honor of a man that has stood strong in times of persecution and hardship and of a man who is steadfast in his walk with the Lord.

Meet my pastor, my friend, my baba…

It’s been a long wait but finally I was able to buy a much needed car. Nigerian roads can be quite dangerous and often times the conditions of the roads and the other drivers can be equally as bad. Sometimes you can be driving down the road, shifting gears, honking your horn while it is storming, motorbikes are buzzing on both sides of the car, you are dodging holes, goats, people, pigs, chickens and taxi’s. It’s not as luxurious as we have it back home where the roads are smooth and the cars are under control. Sure, my Pittsburgh friends can complain because Penn-Dot always seems to fail us miserably and you too have to dodge holes as you drive from point A to point B but add the other elements and driving can be very difficult. Even as a trained school bus driver and a holder of a commercial driver’s license I still find it hard to venture out on the roads. Having lost a brother in a car accident I often times become determined to not allow the same fate to be decided for my own life and as a result I find myself trusting in the Lord more than I did when I would venture out onto the roads back home. This is Nigeria and being here has been wonderful. The challenges of driving are part of the difficulties that one has to face when they leaving the US but at the end of the day it is worth it to be here and be able to minister to such needy children. Having a “moto” (as we say here) simply makes my life a lot easier. Normally I am entering taxi’s with people and animals shoved inside (great cultural experience) and if I sit in the front the driver usually tries to get a second rider for the front seat making it three including the driver. Sometimes I find myself sitting on the gear shifter as the driver is pushing me in the backside to sit up so he can shift to the next gear. Having a car doesn’t mean everything is going to be much easier. I now have to wait in lines over a mile long for hours upon hours just to get to fill up my tank. Currently we are experiencing some sort of fuel shortage and tankers have gone on strike which makes it difficult to find someone selling gasoline. Recently I was desperate and had to pay 500 Naira ($3.33) for a gallon of gas but normally they sell it for 65 Naira a liter making it about 260 Naira for a gallon. So, I say this to let you know that you may have to wait a while for gas when you go to the pumps back home but just think about having to wait in a line that is literally over a mile long and then having to pay twice the price. It’s crazy. My picture of the week is in honor of my newly acquired automobile. I’m happy to take some proposed names for it and will let you know what I decided for a name once I hear your suggestions. The car is a Volkswagen Golf. Currently it is getting an alignment and new shocks so I’ll be back in business in a few days Lord willing.

Lastly, thanks for those who help contribute to the car fund. Sorry I couldn’t get a helicopter like I wanted but this little guy is going to have to do.

Oh, and yes I fit inside of it.

Ahh, what a refreshing feeling it is to have a cool plateau breeze coming in through the window just after a heavy rain। The rainy season is finally here after having rain on Saturday for a short while and then a heavy thunderous down pour just about an hour ago. Having rain is much appreciated after having months of just dry, dusty air and streets. Seriously, the dust was just out of control. Having had rain twice in the past week has prompted me to post my picture of the week in honor of the much needed and long awaited for rainy season. Thank the Lord because we really needed it. Oh, I couldn’t help putting one more picture of Precious. Enjoy…

Picture of the Week (2)

Nigeria is currently coming to the end of the Harmattan season which means an end of the Sahara dust and rain is on its way. In Jos everything seems to be dry, dusty and brown. Lush green plants are a thing of the past because rain is no where to be found and water supplies are drying up or else, dried up. Even one of our care centers is without water to bath the boys at night. Everyone seems to be longing for rain and I just so happen to be one of them.

The picture above was taken in Cross River State which is south of Jos and borders the country of Cameroon. This past weekend I spent 5 days up in the mountains and even did a little hiking. The weather on the mountain is cold and it rains there often. Above is a picture of an older man who was out returning from his farm and making his way back home. In the picture you can see some green hillsides and potential rain on the horizon. While the rest of Nigeria is begging for rain this particular state is enjoying cool weather and wet ground. For 5 days I felt like I was back in Papua New Guinea enjoying cool weather and delicious bananas. I was very happy to see this side of Nigeria. I hope this gives you a better look into this wonderful country.

Note: the picture is not "foggy", rather, it was taken in a cloud.

Picture of the Week

Here is my photo of the week. In this picture is a little girl named Sandra. She was dressing up for a picture that I was preparing to take of all of the girls because one of them was celebrating a birthday. However, the girl celebrating the birthday was not one of our girls; rather, she is one of the staff girls. In Nigeria most people don’t know there actual date of birth, especially children who lived on the streets. Sandra was so happy to be dressed up for a picture that she began to twirl around the courtyard and I just so happened to catch a nice picture as I was snapping away. People wonder how I managed to take the picture from so high up, I just laugh and say “I’m 6 foot 4 inches”.

I hope this pictures makes you smile like Sandra was the other day.

My Favorite Pictures Thus Far

These last 8 months have been quite eventful. There have been times of laughter and times of tears, times of frustration and times of relaxation. There have been times when I wanted to quit and come home to the USA, eat pizza with my friends and drink coffee with my family. Times when I just wanted to sit down with my grandmother and hear her share her wisdom on the subject at hand. These last 8 months have been wonderful in a lot of ways and also frustrating in other ways but at the end of the day I thank the Lord for bringing me through 1/3 of my stay here in Nigeria. I enjoy Nigeria very much and have considered it my home now for these last 8 months. I’m grateful for your encouragement, your support and your prayers.

The pictures below are my favorite pictures from my time thus far. Out of over 6,000 pictures I have picked 16 because it was too hard to pick 10 or 8. I decided to pick two for each of the 8 months that I’ve been in Nigeria.

I also want to thank my friend Michael for buying me a new camera after my former one was stolen when I was robbed in December. In other words, I don't need a new camera anymore. Thanks for those who inquired.

Here are my top 16 pictures thus far. Do you have a favorite?

BITTERSWEET

I love it, yet I absolutely hate it. I look forward to it, yet I dread it. I enjoy it, yet it brings me great sorrow. What am I talking about? What is so bittersweet?

A new child is a new face, a new face is a new story, a new story is a new hope...

Welcome to Gidan Bege, the house of HOPE...


These last few months I’ve learned a lot of stories. I’ve been doing a lot of work in the area of sponsorship, which, by the way, every child in this post is in need of a sponsor. As I write the stories of each child and how they came to Gidan Bege I find it difficult to even type the words that they say. It’s bittersweet when I interview them because I am excited for the child that he/she has a new hope in the Lord but at the same time I hate it because someone was so cruel to this little innocent child.

Here is a typical interview:

What is your father’s name? “Ishaku” (Isaac)
Where is he now? “He is late” (dead)
I’m sorry, how about your mother, what is her name? “Her name is Alheri” (Grace)
Where is she? “She is late”

No father, no mother equals: O-R-P-H-A-N.

I’ll ask them “How did you find Gidan Bege, did you run to the streets?” yes, I ran to the streets after my community tried to kill me.

Why did they try to kill you? “After my father died they said that I killed my father and so they wanted to kill me”.

Where did you stay when you were on the streets? “I slept in a mango tree”.

Here are some of the replies that I have documented:
-“they tied my hands and feet together and hung me from a tree and they beat me but a pastor came and rescued me and took me to Gidan Bege”
-“they hung me from the ceiling and on the ground they cooked some pepe (small chili peppers) so that the smoke went into my eyes”.
-“they beat me very bad”
-“they said I killed my father and mother”
-“they wanted to kill me”

The list keeps on growing. Every new face is a new story and each new face is a new hope. Gidan Bege means “house of hope” in the Hausa language. It is here at Gidan Bege that the children are getting an opportunity that the never had. They are given hope despite the darkness of the past. They come beat up, battered and bruised but they receive healing, comfort and hope inside the ministry. They are given food and clothing and they are taught the scriptures. They want to become doctors, pastors and evangelists. It is bittersweet when I see a new child come into the ministry. When I learn about their story and the way they came here it breaks my heart but then I’m refreshed by the fact that those things are in the past. One boy, Clement, told me about his childhood growing up in a big city with a father who was in the military and a mother who sold produce in the market. He said “we were always having jin dadi” look familiar? “jin dadi” is enjoyment. Growing up was always joyful for Clement until both parents died and he was taken to Gidan Bege as an orphan. He said he loves Gidan bege and It made me think, which does he prefer, life with his parents or life at Gidan Bege? I asked him, “Clement, where would you rather be, at home with your parents or at Gidan Bege?”

He looked at me and said: “I would rather be with my mother and father”.

I knew his answer even before I asked it but I had to hear it for myself. These children each have a story, each have a hope, each an opportunity to erase the hurts of the past and look to the joys of tomorrow.

Each one on this post is in need of a sponsor. If that is something that you would like to do than please email me at joseph.shriver@sim.org

"To do justice to the fatherless and the oppressed that the man of the earth may oppress no more" Psalm 10:18