Water Is Life

By Winston Crutchfield

Water.
We drink it. We bathe in it.
We wash our clothes in it.
We need it to grow crops.

We take it for granted, yet for 1.1 billion people in the world clean water is a luxury. Unclean water threatens the lives of billions of people every day, but most of us don’t know what life without clean water would be like. Something as simple as a public water fountain is an oddity to many people. We buy clean water in a bottle for $1 and that same dollar could give a person clean water for an entire year!

John Wilkerson, the Jesus Geek, dedicated his 2009 podcasting season to Podcasting For Water, raising funds to provide clean water to people who desperately need it.

This volume includes original fiction from Deborah Caligiuri, Laura Thompson, Kelsey Felder, and Justin Lowmaster. David Crutchfield contributes an all-new Gargoyle story, and Winston Crutchfield takes us to the Atomic Earth. These modern writers are joined by classic works and essays on the importance and history of clean water.

Water Is Life is a Critical Press Benefit book. With every purchase, Critical Press Media makes a donation to Living Water International. Critical Press Media is not affiliated with Living Water International.

Help us help others.
Give water, and give life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Critical Press Media
• Release date: Jul 19, 2014

Winston Crutchfield

Winston is the publisher at Critical Press Media (which sounds better than "freelance writer"), where he builds websites, prints books, and provides other digital archiving and media production services. He lives on the banks of the Ohio River with his wife, two kids, and one cat. The cat has a pet kitten of her own.

Book preview

WATER IS LIFE

A Critical Press Media Benefit Book

edited and compiled by Winston Crutchfield

INTRODUCTION

by John Wilkerson

When Winston asked me to write an introduction for this book I really didn't know what to say. I've never written an introduction for a book. I've never had anyone inspired to write a book because of something I did or said. It's an odd and humbling feeling to know that you've so profoundly impacted someone that they felt the need to not only support you but come alongside you and help you.

In December 2008, my pastor mentioned the Advent Conspiracy (http://www.adventconspiracy.com) project in church. I went home that day, watched the videos and was immediately moved to do something about the water crisis in the world. If they could partner with Living Water International (http://www.water.cc) then so could I.

I cooked up a plan, set a goal and started sending emails to Living Water International and fellow podcasters. I have to admit, this little fund-raising project started off very slow and given the state of our economy then (and now) I would have been happy raising $100 much less the $2,200 raised by the end of November 2009. In fact, if things go the way I expect, we'll raise over $3,000 by year-end not including the proceeds that come from this book.

Without water people cannot live, eat or have any kind of progressive culture. Throughout history, empires have been won and lost over water. All throughout the Gospels, Jesus was around water. He understood the significance of water in the lives of people. He preached near it, was baptized in it and even walked on it. Paul describes the Word of God as water that's able to cleanse our minds and souls. I knew something had to be done about the crisis in our world.

The fact that 800 million people live without clean water is a tragedy. The fact that the problem could be so easily and economically solved and yet still there are people dying daily due to water-borne illnesses is a failure on the part of the Church to rise up and provide a cup of water to those who desperately need it. We spend billions of dollars a year on Christian Entertainment and yet people are dying. Where is our sense of urgency? I'm guilty of it too.

Podcasting for Water is a way for me to give back, to take a look at where I spend my hard-earned dollars and make a difference in the lives of others. Hopefully, the little I've been able to raise through this project will inspire and encourage others to seek out ways they can impact the world in a practical and spiritual way.

John Wilkerson is a blogger and podcaster on the subjects of technology and home schooling.

The Missionary

by Deborah Caligiuri

The cool breeze felt refreshing after the stuffy airplane. Marina could hardly remember that it was summer back home in Pennsylvania; in Malawi, Africa, across the equator, it felt like fall.

The group of young people and their three leaders navigated through the small airport and climbed into vans to head to the church where they would be staying. Marina tried to see everything at once, drinking in landscape vaguely reminiscent of home. Gently bulging mountains rose from an otherwise flat terrain. What little grass she could see was brown, but for the most part the ground was covered in red dirt. Tall trees lent the only color to the very red-brown tones all around. The large, blue sky seemed the perfect canvas for the whole picture.

Rina, look! She has a basket on her head. They really do that. It’s not just on TV. A slim, blond girl with excited, blue eyes directed Marina to the sight.

Look, Lilly, the houses. They look like something on TV too. They’re just little shacks. She’s got a basket on her head and a baby on her back. Marina stopped talking at the sight of the dark-skinned mother, her seventeen-year-old heart pounding louder than the van’s noisy engine. Sitting back, Marina watched her teammates through exhausted eyes that refused to close for fear of missing something. Chatting amongst themselves, most of the other girls were quick to point out oddities or the primitive nature of the country. Marina’s heart saw only beauty and people whom God cherished. Saddened but not surprised, Marina focused solely on the surroundings slowly disappearing behind their van. A group of children huddled together, playing some game or other in the dirt.

With a quiet gasp, Marina instinctively turned to share the sight with someone, anyone. Two of the boys were asleep, and her eyes fell on Samson. Very tall and quiet, Samson held himself a little distant from everyone but was the first to offer service when needed. Samson held her gaze for a moment, and Marina knew his heart was in the same place as hers. They smiled wearily at each other.

Hey, Ashley, when do we start building the orphanage?

The youngest of the three leaders turned from the front seat with a tired smile for Marina. It’s already been started, but we start our work on it on Monday. I know you probably feel a little lost from traveling for two days, but today is Saturday. Tomorrow we go to church and get over jet lag. Homesick yet, Rina?

I miss my family, but I’m not really homesick.

I’m already tired of wearing dresses, moaned another girl on the team.

Marina nearly made a snippy comment back, but she held her tongue. Wearing dresses showed respect for the country and its culture. For many years it had been a matter of local law and even now was the accepted practice of the people. Besides, Marina loved how girly she felt in dresses and skirts.

What are they wearing? A boy named Thomas wrinkled his forehead in curiosity.

It looks like yards of fabric wrapped around and tucked in tight.

That is what it is. The native translator confirmed with a friendly nod. She gave them the name of the clothing, but Marina knew it would take time for her to remember it. Marina had never been good at learning languages, including her own. Chichewa had a beautiful sound, but it was completely intimidating to try to imitate.

For two hours they traveled the empty, narrow road in Malawi until they reached their destination of Lilongwe, the capital city. Their hosting church had a facility large enough to bunk the six boys, one male leader, fourteen girls, and two female leaders.

The further away from the airport, the less Marina could see of the mountains that had greeted her. Now they were only visible as faded portraits against the flat, brown canvas. Buildings were beginning to look like buildings and not shacks. Marina easily recognized the church as a church. On the outside, it wasn’t so terribly different from her church back home. Though everything was still very primitive for a group of teenagers accustomed to every possible convenience at their fingertips.

As soon as the van door opened after a very long day of travel, the primal nature of the country confronted them directly. Most of the group needed to find a bathroom. It didn’t look like a normal bathroom, but the function was almost all there. Even in the winter, one of the adults advised them, there is no hot water. It’s cold showers all year round, if you care to shower with absolutely no privacy whatsoever under what might or might not be clean water – when it works at all. Eyebrows up, Marina decided it would be bucket baths for her for the next six weeks. Shaving legs? Well, only time would tell on that one. Her three skirts and one dress were all long, so….

Her first glimpse of the long concrete room with two rows of bunk beds instantly brought to mind the old war movies she loved to watch with her father back home. Her heart raced a little more with excitement. There wasn’t much settling in to do. Each member had a large, duffel bag, and that was it. Marina hung back a little while the other girls all chose bunks and bunkmates. She finally saw an open bunk above Suli and made her way there. The mattress was a very thin woven mat tied tightly to the sides of the bed, and Marina silently prayed she wouldn’t break the ropes and fall on Suli some night as she slept.

Rina, you’re not assigned to it, but will you help with KP tonight?

Of course, Glory. I’ll be happy to. Do you need me right now? I’m ready. Marina loved her soft-spoken female leader from the moment she met the full-figured brunette.

Glory handed Marina a heavy bag and led her toward the door, stopping at another girl’s bunk. Dina, the kitchen is in the next room. Go out this door to your right and into the next room. You’ll see us.

Okay, Glory. I’m coming.

Marina stepped outside where the sun was considering going down for the evening. They walked a ways down the sidewalk to the next room. It was one long building with all the entrances and exits on the outside. To her left was a large open area, what she would have labeled a field at home, but it was all dirt. There were two lonely trees not even close to each other. A few local children were playing with a ball in the field. One boy looked curiously at the white people. He’s never seen a white person before, Marina thought; she smiled and waved as she followed Glory.

The kitchen was really just an area with some counter space, a primitive sink, and something that looked like it might be a refrigerator, possibly. The only cooking appliance was an electric camping stove with two small burners that the team had brought with them. Its purpose was largely to heat the water so they could purify it with the tablets they had brought from the United States. Drinking the local water was dangerous enough for the natives and even more so for the pampered immune systems of Americans. Samson was already waiting for Glory when they stepped inside the room. Dina and Samson were assigned KP, but the leader felt they may need another hand since they were just settling in.

Okay. Rina, unload this bag and give Samson the two big pots. Samson, please fill those with water, and we’ll get them boiling as soon as we can.

The man leading the team entered the kitchen with a smile. Glory, the fire is going strong for you to cook.

Thanks, Daniel.

Samson and Marina looked at each other then began looking around the room for a fire or a place to cook. Glory smiled and walked to the far end of the kitchen to a half-wall made of brick at the end of the countertop. The teammates followed her out of sheer curiosity. The brick wall was open on top, and they looked down into an empty iron rectangle. Glory explained, Outside, there is a hole in the wall where a fire heats this vat. This is where I will bake bread and cook simple meals while we are here. We brought most of our food in cans or other sealed packages, but we will need to prepare a few things here.

Excited, Marina wanted to help in every aspect of her journey. May I help some time, Glory?

I’m sure you will.

Dina joined them, and the four people worked hard setting up the meager kitchen for their stay and putting together food for twenty-one people. Samson had the heaviest work with the water. Many, many pots of water had to be purified for not only drinking but also cleaning the dishes after dinner and storing in the ‘fridge’ for use in the days to come. Marina thought briefly that Samson made it look easy lifting pot after pot of water, and these were no small pots. He was tall and lean and quiet.

Finally, the work was done for the moment, and the team sat on benches to eat in the large empty room at which one end was the kitchen. It was unusually quiet through dinner. Days of travel, anticipation, and weeks of training were finally exhausting the eager group of missionaries. After dinner, Marina helped Glory set up two bins of water, one with bleach and one without, for the team to clean their dishes. Once the dishes were clean and the team was settled again, Daniel brought out his guitar for a quiet time of worship before bed.

At long last, Marina lay on her thin mat in her familiar sleeping bag having only her Bible for a pillow. Night was the hardest time to be away from home, not because she missed the creature comforts of America, but because that’s when she longed for her family. She was living an entirely different life from theirs; it felt very strange. During her two weeks of training, God had given her a particular verse in answer to her pleas for peace at night. Zephaniah 3:17 "The Lord