We have come to the end of the journal that I kept beginning with our return to Zimbabwe in 1983. I suppose there are many reasons that I stopped writing; I could blame lack of motivation, laziness, just being too caught up in the fast-paced details of life. I suspect that the underlying reason was a certain disillusionment with how events were playing out.
By this time, I had a well-established construct in my mind of what was supposed to happen. After all, we had jumped through all the hoops to gain credibility for our African mission. Upon arrival in 1983, we had no prospects for success based on education, training, finances or contacts. All we had was $1000 and the assurance of one Zimbabwean 23 year old (Amos Moyo) that we would find personal and governmental acceptance, even in light of our participation in the former Rhodesian security forces. But, in the short time since arriving in 1983, we had ample ministry success by evangelical standards and had every reason to believe that we would find American enthusiasm for a properly financed ministry during our visit home.
Well, we were well received and managed to scrape together a manageable level of dependable support during our four months in the States, but I still seemed to lose interest in recording the daily details. We arrived in Houston on 18 September 1984. The next two weeks spent with Pegi’s family were agonizing. Her mother seemed to be sinking into new depths of her hatred of me. Needless to say, it was uncomfortable.
The only happy times during our two weeks in Houston were related to our “chance” meeting with John Osteen, pastor of Lakewood Church. He arranged a meeting with Bill Dearman, the head of his missions ministry who suggested they might be interested in supporting us. [They began financial support 18 months later.] We also reconnected with our old friends, Ken and Jill Duckman, whom I had known from my early Jesus Freak days in Madison. Ken was also Jewish and I met him just as he was himself beginning to get interested in Jesus. They had also joined me in Houston at Berachah, remained friends with us throughout the time that we were disowned by Col. Thieme and his sycophants, and were now regular supporters of our African adventure.
Our ministry account now had $1,200 in it. Our Louisville “home” church had finally begun to deliver on their original promise of support. We decided that we would fly to Louisville on October 2nd. After spending time with supporters in Louisville, we planned to travel to New Hampshire, Toronto, Florida and finally to Atlanta to visit supporters before returning to Africa.
My next journal entry is a diagonal line with the comment, “I decided not to keep a journal while we were in the USA.” The next entry is 29 January, 1985 with our arrival in Johannesburg, South Africa. Entries continue until 12 February with a month hiatus until 16 March 1985, the last entry.
Certainly, a lot happened between March, 1985 and May, 1987 when we left Zimbabwe for the last time. In fact, that two year period was the seeming highpoint of our lives. It included the vindication of our approach to ministry, the foundation of a school of ministry for pastors together with Tom Deuschle of Rhema, Africa Evangelical Fellowship and several other ministries, as well as the birth of Abigail.
Why no journal? My last entry related a nightmare that centered on a subconscious sense of failure. Everything looked great. Subconsciously, I knew something was seriously wrong. It turned out that it was more than “something”--there were many things wrong. Sensing that, I just couldn’t write. I couldn’t give expression to my thoughts in writing. In many ways, I didn’t want to start writing and admit that things were not “as advertised”!
Looking back on this a quarter-century later, I see the significance of that crazy dream. I have appended it here:
16 March 1985
I have missed writing now for a month and there is much to relate, but I was awakened this morning by a terrible dream . . . I was in New York and picked up by Ken Duckman at the airport.
He was buying four apples, but only had a grocery store credit card for Houston and no cash on him. I gave him $20 and said he could repay me with a check. We then got in each of our cars to drive to my place in New York.
While on the freeway, he passed me and I thought, “He knows New York better and will lead the way.” Then I fell behind him in the traffic. I was driving a large old model green Buick just like the rust-bucket my father had been driving when last I saw him in Louisville. And, like my father’s old car, mine began to overheat and malfunction. I pulled to the side of the road sobbing that this car couldn’t break down! It was all I had. Suddenly, I was in a “flop house” alone, crying in misery for the failure of my life.
--I awoke and told Pegi. She said it sounded as if I was overcome by the thought that I might be a failure like my father--my deepest fear.
Of course, I wasn’t failing on the surface. In fact, it seemed as if things were going our way--finally! I was beginning to sense the disassembly of the world-construct that would take place over the next 15 years. The new millennium would find me on a very different path for my wandering. That new path would not be the Christian one that I had followed since 1970. So, the next chapters will take us through the most dramatic and exciting events of our lives:
- 1985 - surprising success for our work in Zimbabwe
- 1986 - birth of Abigail
- 1987 - resettlement in the USA
- 1989 - success and dissatisfaction in business
- 1991 - passing of my mother, enrollment in graduate theological studies
- 1992 - passing of my father
- 1994 - begin Ph.D. studies in World Religions
- 1997 - dissertation, graduation and move to teach in Singapore
- 1999 - return to USA, move to Chicago to pursue teaching/writing
- 2000 - publication of Messianic Jewish Congregations, dismissal of Christianity and return to a Jewish lifestyle and spirituality
- 2007 - Call me Grandpa: the birth of my grandson, Aiden Levi Wasserman
- 2008 - Rage Against Age - rediscovery of my love for classic rock
- 2009 - back to teaching World Religions
So, as you can see, there is a lot to discuss. I hope you will keep up with me as I continue to wander down the path. I have no idea where it will all go, but look forward to the journey.
Next: A Triumphal Return
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