Kindnesses displayed...

As I near my last day and as the morning of my last day passes, I am amazed how many friends and students stop by, phone or text to wish me well and to pray God's blessings as I leave.

These little kindnesses deposit such a rich blessing into my life. I am continually amazed by the simple kindnesses my friends from Africa show me time and time again. I must admit there is a beauty and a warmth to their highly relational culture… thank you my friends, thank you for all your many kindnesses. Until we meet again… by for now.

The Body of Christ is a blessed thing…

For the past week and a half, I have been sharing the Seminary Guest House with Africans from all across the continent. They are leaders in the IFES (International Fellowship of Evangelical Students). IFES is indigenous college campus ministries akin to Campus Crusade or InterVarsity or Navigators. They are at the seminary for 2 months doing biblical and theological studies together.

It has been such a joy getting to know sister and brothers from Gambia, Botswana, Tanzania, Sudan, Kenya, Uganda and the list goes on. We have laughed and prayed and chatted and share stories and watched the World Cup together and generally encouraged one another as we are all separated from homes and families.

Last night on the eve of my leaving they surprised me. Each night they gather for 30 or so minutes of prayer and encouragement, they have welcomed me into their gatherings as my schedule permitted. And last night as they concluded they asked to pray for me and send me home with their blessings. I was touched by the words they offered by way of encouragement and thanks and blown away by their prayer for me, my ministry and calling, my family and my church. I was so incredibly blessed by their love, passion and prayers.

It has been a special gift getting to know these new friends spread across the landscape of Africa. I conclude this entry with a prayer I prayed for them after I floated back to my room on the wings of their prayers for me:

May the Lord God bless and keep you, may His face and smile be upon you…and be with you protecting, upholding and blessing you as you do His kingdom work. And now to paraphrase Paul in Colossians 1:

I pray for you and ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all spiritual wisdom and understanding. I pray this in order that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and may please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light. Hallelujah may it be so.

The body of Christ is a blessed thing… Thank you Lord for all these new friends!

Only in Nigeria… Gombe travels part 2

Sunday morning I was ready when Jay arrived, I grabbed my gear, checked out and walked to his truck. As Jay turned the key… nothing! Not a whimper, not a click, nada! He got out and fiddled with the battery cables, still nothing.

We seized on the slight incline of the driveway and attempted to push start the truck… nope. We even had another hotel guest try to jump us with Jay's jumper cables… even that failed.

So now on plan C or D we walked out to the street in front of the hotel and hoped for a 'taxi' (a chabba) which in Nigeria is a guy on a motorcycle who takes passengers. I have seen a family of 4 plus the driver on one bike! The funniest thing I have seen is a tie… it is between the driver and passenger balancing and holding a queen-size mattress on their heads as they drive down the road or the driver and passenger balancing and holding a 3-person couch on their heads! No lie!!!

I digress, in moments a chabba arrived and Jay explained where I needed to go we shook hands and off we sped (this bike at least had power) chabba driver in front with me dressed in a suit and tie with Bible in hand seated behind. Fortunately, Jay held on to my suitcase for me.

I even arrived at church on time, a little dirtier than I expected but safe and sound… thank you Lord!

Not your average biker!

Over the 4^th of July weekend while my family was celebrating with fireworks and parties, I was on an preaching adventure to Gombe State. In my last post I shared how wonderful the big big man was to me when I traveled to his home region. Now I want to share of my other adventures.

After settling into my hotel and eating lunch my former student returned to pick me up and take me on a tour of his town. He arrived on his small motorcycle and off we putted. The bike didn't have much power and my friend seemed particularly timid in driving it. Maybe he was being extra cautious with me as a passenger???

Following our 30-minute driving tour we stopped by this house and church so I could get the lay of the land for tomorrow's preaching and meet his family. They are lovely. His wife was quite busy, she owns and runs the only grinding machine in the area so all the women come to her to have their beans ground into meal/porridge. This little cottage industry helps the family since they are paid with a small portion of the grinding.

While we were visiting the machine stopped working and my friend and his wife tinkered with this and that and got it started again. After another few minutes it stopped again. The diagnosed problem was the sparkplug. My friend disappeared and then reappeared with a new one and it was up and running in no time!

Time came for me to leave for my hotel, and as we climbed on the motorcycle my friend said we will stop to get a new spark plug in town? I was confused. It took numerous cranks to get the bike started, when I realized that he had swapped out his bike's sparkplug and put it in the grinding machine… putting the faulty one in the bike!

Well we had quite a ride, the bike even had less power than before. The slightest "hill" or any slowing for any turn caused the bike to severely sputter. As we entered the main round-about of town -a traffic circle which in the US might be two lanes wide but had 3-4 lanes zipping around it in Gombe, the bike died! Right there in the middle of the circle! YIKES. After 3-4 cranks and cars whizzing past so close that my pant legs waved in their breeze it was clear that it was not starting. Being the only white person I had scene I took full advantage of my uniqueness -people staring at me as they passed- and I stepped out into the traffic and acted as a "stop sign" so we could get out of the circle!

My friend proceeded to shake his bike discovering that not only did he have a bum sparkplug but he was out of gas!!! Pushing the pike a couple hundred feet he bought a liter of gas and maybe 15 cranks later we were riding again… but not far. Around the next bend in the very busy road we stalled out again. Being in a blind spot in the road due to the curve we popped the bike onto the sidewalk where a kind Samaritan stopped to help. He removed the sparkplug and tried to clean it. I don't think it worked because after 15 or so minutes and a few Naira as a thank you we were pushing it again… to where I have no idea?

Refusing to give up my friend stopped after 10 minutes of pushing and on the 3^rd crank it roared to life (only kidding it sputtered to life). Eventually we needed to make a left and sure as shooting as he pulled back on the accelerator with two lanes of cars driving right at us it stalled once again… by God grace we coasted through to the other side of the intersection. However a car, following us in the turn came within millimeters of hitting us as he swerved to get past us and out of the oncoming lanes. I know my pant legs brushed the car as it avoided us.

Un daunted, my friend cranked the bike again and after less than a handful of cranks we putted off to the home of a missionary friend he wanted me to meet. (Not bad it only took 80 minutes for a 10-minute drive!)

Jay the missionary drove me to my hotel (thank you Lord) and took my friend home. The bike will be fixed another day. And the best news, Jay offered to pick me up in the morning and drive me to the church…

A big big man- part 3

Last weekend I made a preaching excursion to Gombe State about 3 hours from Jos. I had many African adventures, but those hopefully will be for another blog post.

The big big man I have mentioned previously is also from Gombe State and when he learned that I would be traveling to his state, he wanted to bless me, so he arranged for my overnight accommodations… putting me up in a new hotel with AC and TV! He also arranged for all my meals. What a gift. And when we arrived in Gombe by commercial motor car the big big man personally came to pick us up and bring me to the hotel.

I learned too that since it was a new hotel, he personally went and viewed the rooms and checked on the services before booking my room.

What an incredibly wonderful gift from a man I barely know.

Unfortunately he had to leave after taking me to the hotel because he had official business in another part of the state that his job necessitated his presence.

He even arranged for an associate to check on me after worship on Sunday to make sure that everything had been okay… what I kind gesture.

A big big man, with a big big heart for God and God's church… My life is richer for meeting him.

A trash mentality

I still cannot get used to the just-toss-your-trash-on-the-ground mentality I see all around me here in Jos. A student opens a package of crackers to munch on during break and when he finishes he tosses the wrapper out the class window. Another does the same with an empty plastic water bag. I don't get it.

The classic occurred when they installed a satellite dish at the guesthouse where I am staying. Workers left the cardboard carton, packaging and various sundry papers and pieces of wire strewn across the guesthouse front yard. It rained that night soaking everything. I was flabbergast that they considered their job completed with all this trash lying everywhere. It was the toss-your-trash-on-the-ground mentality on steroids! I see it everywhere I go in and around Jos.

There are few refuse bins and I have seen no garbage trucks to collect trash. If trash is disposed of, it is by creating piles and burning it… the acidic smoke burns the eyes… cough, cough, cough!

To the Seminary's credit, they have refuse bins placed around campus and someone came by the following day to pick up the trash left by the satellite-dish installers. And on the local TV the other night there has a big story that Lagos has purchased a number large garbage collection trucks to deal with the refuse issue in the city…  maybe the mentality is changing?! I surely hope so.

It’s a small world after all… it’s a small, small world

Years ago when our two oldest children were tots we went to Disney World. The favorite ride for our kids was "It's a small world." There were times when we got off one boat and walked to the head of the line and got in another to go around again. By the end of the 3-days the song was stuck in my head!

Little did I know then, how true the song's message really is…

Here I am in Jos, Nigeria, thousands of miles from home.  Jos has no international tourist draw… and is a 4-hour drive from the nearest international airport. It is not a place many people come to.

The other night I attended a dinner of international missionaries in Jos. There were probably 50 people from a number of mission agencies in the west. Part of the program was to encourage connection so before we could eat we had to speak with at least 2 others we didn't know. Not hard for me, I didn't know anyone. The first woman I spoke with was from England teaching orphans and setting up a training center for the children to supplement the local school which is inconsistent at best. The next person was a young mom with an infant daughter. As we shared our stories we were both stunned to learn that we had lived in the same town, Mason, Ohio at the same time. Although we never met in Mason, here we were talking about the town, our churches and all kinds of connections… go figure ¼ of the way around the world and we lived in the same town in the US.

      Then on the desert line I met a woman from the CRC (Christian Reformed Church of Canada). Again we shared our stories and knowing 1 or 2 CRC pastors I tossed out the name of a friend who serves on a ministry team with me for a renewal ministry. It is a small world; my friend was a classmate of this missionary woman's husband in seminary 15 or so years ago. We chatted up a storm before the evening ended.

Driving home that night I thought yes it is a small world, and getting smaller I venture to say. And connections within Christ's body make the world even smaller.

It is a small world after all…