I was asked a couple of years ago to write this story.  It is a true story of how God uses ordinary things and ordinary people to bring about extraordinary events.  The names have been changed to ensure the privacy of those in ‘hot zones’.  Enjoy.

“…God is changing things in Uganda.  …God is doing mighty things…  there is a need to let the world know that God is still active [and] working through men and makes no distinction irrespective of one’s religious affiliation.”    – D.

D. woke up while it was still dark outside.  This was the third day in one week that he awoke from dreams that played vividly in his mind as he tried to sleep and left him restless throughout the day.  They were dreams that caused him to begin questioning the faith he had known since a child in Uganda.  Dreams that spoke of a Messiah named Yeshua and now there was a burning hunger deep within to find out whom this Yeshua was and if he really did exist.

If he did exist, it would mean that everything he had been taught, had been a lie.  In his Muslim world, God did not have a son.  D.’s culture made sure that its children understood that truth without wavering, but it was the dreams that ran through his mind as he tried to rest in the night hours that continued to tell him differently.   Muslim’s were still waiting for their Messiah.  His dreams were telling him that the Messiah had already come.

D. sat at the edge of this bed, elbows resting on his knees and he put his face in his hands.  He was restless, burdened, and empty.  A familiar feeling, all too often anymore.  He yearned for something more.  There had to be more.  He wanted to know the truth.  There could not be two Messiahs and he was either coming as he had been taught, or he had come already.

At that moment, sitting there on the side of his bed, he determined to find the truth.

* * * * *

VJ put the papers on her desk in the appropriate file folders, closed the drawer, and was ready to go home.  She was tired but knew that if she was going to get the Christmas cookies baked and wrapped in time for the soldiers at Camp Laremmus to receive them by Christmas, she was going to have to find a reserve of energy from within.

She made a quick stop at the market for some eggs and butter and she was on her way home once again.  She couldn’t wait to get her shoes off and relax.

Arriving home, she set her purse on the arm of the couch, went in her bedroom, and changed into something more comfortable.  She rubbed her tired feet for a few minutes.  She couldn’t wait to go home and be with her heavenly Father because she was certain the streets there would be so smooth that He wouldn’t make his children wear shoes.  At least, that was her prayer.

She went into the kitchen and took out her baking supplies. With each drop of dough she placed on a cookie sheet and each cookie she lifted from the hot trays, she thought of the soldiers who would be receiving the cookies and prayed for each one.  It was almost three hours when the last two dozen chocolate chip cookies sat on the wire racks, cooling off.

VJ took a deep breath, wiping the perspiration from her forehead, realizing just how warm the kitchen had become.  As she poured herself a glass of ice water, she thanked God for giving her the drive to accomplish her baking project and prayed that the men and women without families at Camp Laremmus would enjoy them.  She then sat at her writing table and began to pen notes to each soldier who might receive a card or some cookies.  Though she didn’t know their names, she prayed over each card and enclosed her email address in case any wanted her to pray for them.

How many years has it been now? VJ thought.

Years had flown by.  Sam was just out of school and headed into the Army.  A talented and aimless youth, her son’s heart was running after God and she learned much from her him, beginning in his early years.  He was the one who had taught her what it meant to give to those who were less fortunate.  God had used this child, her generous son, to teach her, then an unbeliever of His love for the world.  It was through the example of the unconditional love that her little boy had God’s children that brought VJ to the feet of Christ.

She smiled as she thought of all the orphaned youth her loving son brought home and as a tear fell from her eye, praised God for the present opportunity He had given her to minister to the young men and women who were away for Christmas in Iraq, serving their country.

She thought about all those she had come to know through her ‘little’ ministry.  There was Rick Ressalg, the chaplain at Laremmus whom she met when she first started sending packages.  She loved his sense of humor and the responsibility he evidenced toward and his soldiers.  When it came time for Ressalg to return to the states and it was Chaplain Cody Kasur who took his place.

She had gotten to know Cody Kasur slightly but not well… not yet, anyhow.   VJ knew he had completed his tour of duty, yet he had felt a call to re-enlist as a Chaplain.  She was certain this new chaplain at Fort Laremmus was a man after God’s heart and hoped he liked chocolate chip cookies.

When she had finished her notes, she put the pen down on the table.  She wished she could do more, but for tonight, it was time for bed.

* * * * *

The men and women at Camp Laremmus were getting to know Chaplain Cody.  They had grown to love Chaplain Cody – his humor, his dedication to the troops – and now Chaplain Cody not only had become his successor, but also was quickly beginning to find a place in the hearts of these soldiers, just as Ressalg had done.

Kasur didn’t understand his call to come to Iraq.  It was an overwhelming feeling he had that he should re-enlist.  He didn’t have to.  He had done his part – he had served his country.  However – he was not being asked to serve his country this time.  God was asking Cody Kasur to serve Him by going back as a Chaplain and ministering to broken and needy people.  All Kasur had to do was obey.

As he stood in the heat of the day with the Ugandan sun at his back, Army Chaplain Cody Kusar lifted his hand heavenward and as the men sat on the hot cement in front of him, with their heads bowed, he prayed for them. He prayed for their safety, their desire to be home but their need to be where they were and he gave thanks, not only for the box of cookies that had been sent, but also for the box of unopened Bibles that had just arrived from the states.  Bibles that would feed the souls of the women and men under his charge.  Kusar ended his prayer in gratitude for a God who was able to do beyond anything he had ever imagined.

He then gathered his supplies that he would need out on the field for the days ahead and left the two men he had grown to depend on in his absence, in charge.

Nathan had come to the camp as one of the many Ugandan security soldiers placed at Camp Laremmus as ally forces for the troops.  As pastor of the village he had left behind for a time, he needed the job to earn some extra income in hopes of helping to pay for his three year-old daughter’s cancer treatment.

In his absence, Kasur came to rely on Nathan to encourage the men and women who were still back at camp.  However, now he had another young soldier to call upon that could assist him with the other Ugandan soldiers, but this one was different.  This one was on raging fire for the Lord and by the way he peered into the box of cookies that arrived, it seemed he might have a hunger for chocolate chip cookies as well.

* * * * *

It was January and VJ pulled into the driveway, another long week behind her and a welcomed weekend waiting to enjoy.  She couldn’t wait to get her shoes off and once again thought about those streets made of gold and going barefoot.

Pouring a glass of lemonade, she found the mail on the counter that her husband had left.  After thumbing through it and deciding there was nothing important enough to tackle at the present, she went to her computer and clicked on her email account.  As she waited for it to load, she took a sip of lemonade and thanked God for cold drinks on warm Arizona days.

VJ scanned the list of emails waiting for her attention and noticed an unfamiliar name.

Was it spam?    Should I delete it?
Something inside told her to open it immediately.  As she began reading the email from a Ugandan soldier by the name of D., her eyes filled with tears.  He spoke of receiving the package of goodies she had sent and told her how the Ugandan soldiers were given the gift box to enjoy by Chaplain Kasur.  When D. went to the box for some cookies, that’s when he found the note cards from VJ and, intrigued, took a card and didn’t even take a cookie.  That’s when they ‘met’ for the first time.

After reading her card, he told her he immediately went to the camp computer and immediately began an email to VJ.  He told her how excited he was to meet a male pastor from the United States and was eager to learn whatever he could from this new friend in his life.  He wondered if this man, besides offering to pray for D., might be able to send some Swahili bibles for his soldiers and others he ministered to.

…I would be most glad to have your prayers.  I am not very old in the Lord’s work and want to serve him well.  Chaplain Cody Kasur has been kind to teach me many things that a pastor must oversee and for that I am most grateful.  Since you are also a pastor, maybe your help would be good also.  Would you want to help me?  If not, your prayers would be great enough.

VJ did not hesitate to reply and at that moment, a relationship with a young man in Uganda who would later become her son instantly began.

Dear D. …

VJ began her reply to the young man who had written to her in response to the goody box she had sent before Christmas.  It was funny, but out of all the boxes she had sent overseas through the years – boxes filled with little notes of encouragement and bathed in prayer atop bags of cookies, this was the first response she had ever received.

What a joy to receive your reply…

VJ answered with a great anxiousness to D.’s response.  She informed him in her reply that she was neither a pastor nor a man, as he had presumed, but just ‘an older lady’ with a heart to serve the Lord.  She told him that she would look into the matter regarding the Swahili Bibles and when she did, she discovered God had already beaten her to it.

* * * * *

D. had come to Camp Laremmus as a security soldier, just as Nathan did.  Though he was grateful to be earning income for his family, his real desire was to be a pastor.  He could not think of anything but serving his God in that capacity and hungered for the things of God like no one Chaplain Cody had known for quite some time.  It seemed only natural for the Chaplain to take D. under his wings and mentor this new believer in the Lord.

Kasur had started services for the Ugandan soldiers.  It was often D. who Kusar would have fill in for him when he was away.  D. didn’t take his responsibilities lightly.  Having a servant’s heart and a desire to present a well-kept house of God, he arrived early before each service to sweep and clean in preparation for worship and teaching.  It was D.’s belief that a pastor did not just lead his flock, but he was an example of Christ – a servant.

Chaplain Cody’s absences to the field or elsewhere were bittersweet for D.  While he missed having him around to bounce thoughts off on and talk about Bible passages, D. enjoyed overseeing the Chaplain’s duties while the chaplain was away.  He felt an honor to be in this place and humbled that God saw fit to use him in such a mighty way.

He enjoyed the opportunity to give the men messages, as it meant immersing himself in God’s word and digging deeper into His truths.  He was learning so much and didn’t want to stop.  It was as if he had a hole inside of him that had been empty for so long and now that he had found the source to fill it, he couldn’t get enough.

He went to the computer and began typing a letter to VJ after Chaplain Cody left.

Dear Mama,

My heart is overwhelmed that I have nothing to say. I only say praise His holy name for His love surpasses all love under heaven and His grace extends without limits. Mama, God bless you.   I am so blessed in spirit to be your son. Mama, I can’t express my joy to you in its fullness but only thank God that you know I love you…

* * * *.

Dear Deo,

Although we have never seen each other face to face, I know that God has called me to be your REAL mama.  There is a scripture in the book of Isaiah that says, “Expand the space of your tent. Stretch out the curtains of your tent, and don’t hold back. Lengthen your tent ropes, and drive in the tent pegs.”

For me, God has called me to expand my heart and stretch it wide – not to hold back – to be mother to the motherless, a friend to the friendless, and a parent to the orphans.

He tells us not to hold back.  Make room, secure the tent pegs, and make that family unit strong.  You are my family – my son.  I could love you no more if I had birthed you myself.  To secure the tent pegs is to train up a child in the way the Lord wills him to go.  To teach him truth.  That is what I try to do as I encourage you to fight the good fight and keep on for the Lord.

Your joys and sorrow are my own.  We will not be separated by convention but remain as a family with our heavenly Father protecting and caring for us all.
Greet Nathan with a holy hug and kiss from me.  Your brother Seth sends his greetings.

Mama
P.S.  I am trying to locate Swahili bibles to send so that you and Chaplain Chris can give them away in your ministry.

VJ pushed the send button on her computer and went to the kitchen to bake another box of cookies.  As they baked, she skimmed through the magazine that had come in the mail that day and came across an article by JR of an international ministry.  It spoke of their partner ministry, a Bible ministry, which had just shipped a carton of Swahili Bibles to an overseas Chaplain by the name of Cody Kasur.

* * * *

Dear Mama,

You will not believe this but a kind person by the name of JR had some Bibles sent to us and you cannot imagine what language they were in…

Your son,
D

Leave it to Chaplain Cody Kusar, who had already been in touch with Jay Naboh of Soldiers Bible Ministry, inquiring of him how they might obtain the Bibles.  VJ was overwhelmed at God’s intertwining plan.  She immediately called JR to thank them for what they had done and its impact, also sharing with her the story of how VJ and her son, D., had come together.

In the course of the conversation, VJ explained D.’s thirst to learn more and wanting to acquire more biblical training.  Due to the expense, bringing him to the United States was out of the question.

As VJ searched for something good that would benefit D.’s studies, D. was in contact with Jay Neboh, who offered him on-line study courses through the Bible ministry, which had been freely donated by another ministry, for any soldiers wanting to delve deeper into the things of God.

The next hurdle was obtaining a computer for D. so that he could pursue his desire to learn the deep things of God.  VJ began saving towards purchasing a computer for D. when she found out that Jay Neboh had been in contact with two Australian brothers who had already donated the money.

VJ couldn’t contain the smile that was across her face, as she thought about all that God had pulled together.  She closed her eyes raised her hands in praise and with her smile still intact, thanked Him for his faithfulness and provision for her son D.  She then stood, put on her apron, and with a renewed energy, began making cookie dough.