We had just recently arrived back in
Zambia after being away for 40 days and 40 nights. It was a Tuesday,
and the daily schedule led us to
Buchi [meaning honey], a
nearby community, for a time of
door to door evangelism. As we
walked through the cluttered streets, it was such a contrast to the
orderly neighborhood in Baltimore where we had just come from. Each
plot was somehow demarcated, whether by some plants, a hedge, a few
planks of wood sloppily nailed together to make a fence, or for those
who had more money, a cement wall. On each plot there was a
collection of small houses which seemed to be randomly placed, each
of them consisting of about one to four rooms. Everything was brown
as it was hot and dry. Dust was everywhere,
