This was my favorite VBS skit from last week. Jamila played Tisese, & Joanna was Mrs. Bush.
"Preacher, may I go with you to the mission? The young African boy begged. "I want to learn about Jesus, and how to read the Bible like you do.
Raymond Bush, the missionary, looked in surprise at the earnest face of the boy. "What is your name, my boy?" he asked. "And do you have permission from your parents and your chief to go along with me?"
"I am called Tisese," the boy replied. "Will you take me, if I am allowed to go?"
The missionary promised that he would, and so the next morning a very happy Tisese followed along with Raymond Bush and his men. It was a long way from Tisese's village in the interior of Africa back to the mission station. For nine weeks, the group of men and boys traveled through jungles, plains, and desert sand. The days were long and tiring, but very exciting to a young boy who had never been far from his home village before. The wooded lands were full of monkeys, giraffe, and elephants. On the plains, lions stalked herds of zebra and antelopes, while ostriches ran awkwardly through the tall grass. Clumps of thornbushes were everywhere. The Africans called these "Wait-a-bit thorns" because when you were caught in them, your friends had to wait a bit!
Night time was scary for a young boy. Their camp had to be surrounded by a ring of fire all through the night for protection from wild animals and mosquitoes. The men would cut timber, pile it all around the camp and set fire to it. During the night, the fire was kept burning, and although lions roared in the darkness outside, the travelers with the circle were safe.
At last they arrived at the mission station, where Raymond Bush lived. Now Tisese could finally go to school! How he loved to learn. Eagerly his quick mind drank in the stories of Jesus and all the truths of God's Word. When he was not in school learning, he would follow the missionaries around at their work, asking questions. "Tisese, you ask more questions in an hour than I can answer in a week!" Raymond said one day.
But Tisese was not embarassed. There were so many new things to see and learn, he just had to ask questions. "What is that thing that you are sweeping that dirt into?" he asked Mrs. Bush one morning as she swept the floor of her hut. "This is called a 'dustpan'," the missionary's wife replied.
"Thank you!" called the boy as he hurried past on his way to school. Slipping into his seat, he waited for class to begin. As soon as the teacher called his name, Tisese rose to his feet. "Teacher," he told the missionary solemnly, "I want you and everyone to know that my name is no longer Tisese, 'the-animal-that-runs-through-the-woods.' Now that I am a Christian, my name shall be 'Dust Pan' forever."
"Dust Pan?" the teacher exclaimed, surprised. "Why ever would you want to change your name to
Dust Pan?"
"Because, Teacher," the boy replied earnestly, "I was just passing your house and saw your wife sweeping with that tool called a dust pan in her hand. She carried all the dirt out of your hut with it. I want to be a dust pan, too, so that when I go home, I may carry out the dirt from the lives of my father, my family and all my friends. I want to be a dust pan for Jesus."
From that day on, the boy could often be heard praying that God would make him a good dustpan for His service. Soon he brought five of his friends to Jesus, and the six Christian boys together witnessed to others.
Time passed and Mr. Bush was preparing to take another evangelistic journey into the north country where Dust Pan's village lay.
"Now, I can go home and tell my family the Good News about Jesus!" Dust Pan said joyfully.
"No, Dust Pan," the missionary objected. "You are still too young. You should stay here in school for a few years yet, and my wife will need you to help her while I am gone."
"Preacher, I must go now! cried Dust Pan. "There is no time to lose! Even now my family could be dying without Jesus. My father could be killed in a tribal fight. My mother may be eaten by lions while working in the garden! My brothers and sisters may die and never hear of Jesus in time."
"All right, my boy," the missionary relented. "You shall go along, and may God bless you as you try to be a Dust Pan to your people!"
Once more Dust Pan traveled the weary an dangerous miles through the African jungles following elephant ant hippopotamus trails. Through burning desert sands the caravan plodded, until Dust Pan's feet were sore and covered with blisters. One night the boy lay moaning with pain as the missionary tried to treat his blistered feet.
"You cannot walk any farther with such sore feet, my boy," Mr. Bush said sadly. I will leave you here with the choef of this village and pay him to care for you until your feet heal. You can go along with me to your village next year."
"No, no! I must go with you now!" Dust Pan insisted. "My father may be killed in tribe fighting. My mother might be eaten by lions while she works in the garden. My brothers and sisters might die before next year, and never hear of Jesus!"
So when the travelers went on the next morning, the determined Dust Pan came limping along with them!
The trail that morning led through miles of tall grass, called elephant grass. Suddenly as the path took them around a sharp bend, a lioness sprang from a clum of grass stems! In one awful instant, she pounced upon a servant who was carrying a box of supplies for the missionary. With a cry, the man dodged and the lion's paws struck the box on his back, sending it rolling into the tall grass. Jerking up the shotgun that he carried, Mr Bush fired! In the excitement, he missed. Hissing horribly, the lioness disappeared into the tall grass.
Feeling shaky, but thankful, after their narrow escape, the mission party continued on. Their water supply was low, so they were in a hurry to get to the river. At last, late in the afternoon, they reached their goal. As his men pitched their tents and refilled the water bottles, the missionary counted them. One was missing!
"Where is Dust Pan?"he called in alarm. "Dust Pan is not with us! When did you see him last?" But nobody knew.
"Maybe the lioness got him," one man ventured. "If he's out there in the grass alone, he's been eaten by now," the others muttered. "There's no use going back to find him!"
"What shall we do, Lord?" cried Raymond, falling to his knees in prayer. I've already had two men killed by lions during my travels, he thought. I don't want to lose Dust Pan! "Lord, I know that You can do anything," he prayed. "Please protect this boy somehow, and save him for the work he wanted to do!"
As the missionary paced around and around the camp, he strained his eyes searching for any sign of movement among the tall grasses. Far away a lion roared its horrible, coughing roar, and a shiver went down the spines of all the listeners!
The sun was sinking behind the hills, when the anxious missionary finally saw the grasses waving along the paths where they had travelled. Running forward eagerly, he cried, "Dust Pan! Are you safe, my boy?"
Staggering wearily out of the elephant grass, Dust Pan lifted his hands in triumph. "God kept me alive, to tell my parents about Jesus!"
When the relieved missionary reached his young friend, though, he saw a sad sight. Even though Dust Pan's sore feet had been bandaged and padded with dry grass, the blisters had burst as he walked and his feet were now bleeding with every step he took. It was no wonder he had not been able to keep up with the others!
Raymond Bush called for his men and together they carried the tired boy the rest of the way into camp. Kneeling before him, the missionary did what he could for poor Dust Pan's bloody feet. "Lord," he prayed humbly, wat a love for souls is in this boy's hear! He is a better missionary than I am. Help me to be more like Dust Pan!"
When Dust Pan finally reached his home village, the battle had only begun. His father was one of the most famous witch doctors in that part of Africa, and usually killed more than six hundred people every year! In his heathen cruelty, he put to death anyone who offended him by poisoning them, burying them alive, or tying them to ant hills and letting the ants eat them. Was there any use in hoping that such an evil man would become a Christian?
But Dust Pan's faith and love won the hearts of his whole family -- even that father! Both his parents, his three sisters, and all five brothers were converted and became Christians. Then Dust Pan began to share the Gospel with others in his village. When Raymond Bush returned the following year, he found three hundred and sixty-four new Christians wanting to be baptized, all through the witness of one young boy.
What a lot of sin, darkness, and dirt had been carried out of that corner of Africa, by one Dust Pan in the hands of Jesus!
EDIT: This account is taken from Missionary Stories with the Millers, by Mildred A. Martin, chapter 24. "Historical Note: Raymond L. Bush was an American missionary to South Africa in the early 1900's. The story of the boy named Dust Pan is recorded in his autobiograph, Thinking Africa."
I eat only 1 "real" meal a day, earlier in the day, i.e. not supper. I’m hypoglycemic, so I need to get plenty of protein. Any carbs I eat at that meal are whole/multi-grains. For example, I just had an egg wrap for lunch with tomato slices and plenty of fresh spinach on it. (Turkey dogs are my variation on this theme, also with tomatoes, spinach, & a whole grain wrap.) For breakfast I ate an Aldi protein bar (I've never had a better protein bar!) 'cause I don't want to have much before I go to the Y. Now I'm snacking on celery sticks and drinking black decaf with cardamom, perked in my grammy's percolator. I'll have a bowl of Kashi (Aldi has a version of this, too) and won't even eat in the same room as the rest of the family since that would only make me miserable ... not to mention break my diet. If I get munchy, I'll pop a bag of light popcorn or grab unsalted almonds to have with some more of my yummy coffee. If I get a craving for something sweet, I eat an apple or some other fresh fruit and/or enjoy some herb tea with Stevia. If the family eats something for supper that I will allow myself to eat (doesn’t happen often), I’ll make up a plate of it for the next day’s breakfast. Just before I go to bed, I eat a low-fat cheese stick to get me through the night. (It has successfully prevented the "witching hour" syndrome!)
