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On Tuesday night of this week a work team arrived in Lome from Kalispell, Montana.  They came to tackle some needed maintenance and improvement projects on the campus of the West Africa Advanced School of Theology.  Ninety pastors/students will be coming to study in about three weeks and this team has two weeks to get done what they can.  They have great attitudes, work hard and are on-fire on the job.  We so respect and appreciate the efforts of each one in this group as they give of their time, talents and resources in order that the Biblical-training that occurs here can continue …  and that the impact of that training will only increase throughout West and Central Africa.  Thanks, Team!

Our passports have finally made their way back into our hands!

More than six months ago we started the routine steps of the renewal process for our one-year residency visas.  We did not anticipate any problems and had allowed time for the unforeseen.  Well, the unforeseen was much larger than ever envisioned.  Multiple variables contributed to the delay and in these months we have missed flights, made countless phone calls, waited for days on end at the immigration office, made and scratched lots of plans, consulted with the US Embassy, been stranded out of country without passports and enlisted the help of anyone we could think of.  Nothing seemed to work.

The story has plenty of little details, but the bottom line is that the Lord directed the steps of our colleagues to the right people and slowly they started to trickle out of the visa office.  When we finally held all five passports in our hands – with valid visas in each one – it was with a little bit of disbelief.  We were not sure were ever going to see them again, but like old friends come back for the first time in a long time we were so glad when we did.  Our plane tickets have been changed for the last time and soon will be heading back.  Togo, West Africa, has been a gracious and generous host to us during these months and we will pray for the work and people here as we return to Angola.

Do you like to go the beach? I know it is a strange question to ask in the middle of winter, however since we live not far from the Equator and within sight of the ocean it is something we think about. Our family likes going to the beach and from time to time we load up on towels, umbrellas, sunscreen and sand toys and head out for some fun. Our kids are not yet inclined to do much swimming in the ocean’s waves, but they love to play in the sand.

On our most recent outing the play-construction project of choice was a big hole dug in the sand with a channel leading to the water. The idea was that when the waves came in water would run up the channel and into the hole, creating a warm water pool to play in. Can you see their anticipation when the first wave came in to fill up their pool? Can you imagine their disappointment when that water rushed up the trough, filled the hole, collapsed the side walls and washed the sand back into the ocean? Our children’s planning and work were reduced to nothing by just a few waves.

Does life ever hold a similar theme for you? Plan, work, dream and sweat to build something only to see it washed away by the waves of life. It happens in families. Children go astray. Jobs are lost and careers must be changed. Friendships sour. The future seems to be full of nothing but unfulfilled dreams.  The weight of life can seem to be too much to bear.

“But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.¹” I learned a song this fall from a group of pastors from West Africa. These pastors – who have lived through wars, been persecuted by neighbors in the name of religion, confronted the pure evil of witchcraft and voodoo, and yet all the while preached the Word of Truth with conviction and power – sang these words over and over: “You are the pillar that holds my life, Master Jesus. You are the pillar that holds my life. You are the Most High God. You are the Most High God.” The waves of life have threatened many times to crash in on them, yet their faith has not washed away like the sand of my children’s beach construction project.

Our God does not shift or change from day to day, nor age to age². The joy of the Lord is our strength³ and not one of His promises fail to come to pass⁴. I think that you, also, would have been caught up in the joy with which these pastors sang. The tune was new to me and the simple truth a great reminder – God truly is the pillar that holds my life. He is in control and I will rejoice in Him. How about you?

¹ I Cor. 15:57; ² I Samuel 15:29; ³ Nehemiah 8:10; ⁴ Numbers 23:19

I am impressed by the character and commitment of the men and women I am taking classes with in West Africa.  There are more than one hundred students on the campus at the moment and it is difficult to get to know them all.  However, when opportunity allows and I am able to spend time with a pastor from Ghana or a pastor from Cameroon or different one from the Democratic Republic of Congo, I become all the more convinced that I am speaking with men and women who are the true hope of Africa. 

This morning I met Martin.  He is Burkinabé (from Burkina Faso) and serves as a missionary to Chad, Africa.  He speaks French, English, a small bit of Arabic and probably a dialect or two.  His primary ministry task is teaching current and future pastors in the capital city of N’djamena.  For 3 ½ years he has invested in training Chad’s spiritual leaders and his gentle, sincere, humble demeanor suggests to me that his life and service are having an impact on those who teaches.

We spent a few pleasant moments visiting together and when we continued on our respective ways I was once again encouraged.  The history of modern missions leans heavily to the western, white world; Hudson Taylor, Adoniram Judson, William Cary, Cameron Townsend, Eric Lidell, Amy Carmichael, Gladys Aylward and a host of other outstanding missionaries all fall into this category.  Martin does not, yet he and others like him are courageously and faithfully proclaiming the Truth of the gospel wherever God leads them.

There is a common misconception that in order to be called and used as a missionary you must come from a background that is “just so”.  Not true.  Jesus’ call to “go and make disciples of all nations” extends to all believers; no exceptions.  I am proud of my African brothers and sisters who, like Martin and his family, have answered the call of God to bring hope and life to every corner of this great continent.

I received a note via e-mail reminding me that October is Pastor Appreciation Month.  I remember very well the kind words, cards and gifts that were directed to us in our years of pastoring and those special expressions were always anencouragement.

Danita and I are no longer serving as pastors, but we serve many pastors.  Over the last couple of months we have become aware of a number of tragic situations involving pastors in Central and Western Africa:

• A presbyter (overseeing pastor) in southern Angola was involved in a car accident.  He went to the hospital with chest pains and was released when no cause was discovered.  Still in pain the next day he returned to the hospital and was again sent home without treatment.  The pastor died the following morning.
• In northern Togo a pastor was hit by a vehicle and left unattended by the side of the road.  When he was finally picked up and taken to the hospital they were unable to help him.  The pastor died that night, leaving behind his wife and newborn baby daughter, Anne.
• An Assemblies of God missionary and pastor in the Democratic Republic of Congo died suddenly while in South Africa for a visit.  His large church has planted more than 60 churches in the D.R.C. and is responsible for hundreds of leaders trained and thousands of lives transformed.
• In Burkina Faso a young pastor had just been presented to the leadership for ministry service.  On the way home with his wife he stopped by a roadside market to buy fruit.  He crossed the road, was hit by a motorcycle and was killed instantly.
• In southern Togo a church congregation was attacked during a prayer service.  The pastor and people were beaten by practitioners of witchcraft, who said the church’s prayers were disturbing their ceremony.

This is not an exhaustive list of incidents; only a sampling.  They occurred from two months ago to just last week.  Wives, children and congregations have been left to grieve and go on.  The pastors of Africa need our prayers.

As you honor and recognize your own pastor this month will you also pray for pastors and their families in Africa?  Some are grieving loss; others are facing physical and spiritual challenges; all need our prayers.  God’s grace is sufficient for every situation so let us join together to lift our African brothers and sisters before His throne.  Eternity will tell the impact of our prayers.

Many of the daily considerations of a missionary have at least some connection to culture.  For instance, when told the product will be ready tomorrow does that mean a literal tomorrow or an eventual tomorrow?  My home culture and my host culture see the use of “tomorrow” as having different meanings.  This is only one example out of hundreds; others have to do with food, greetings, language, protocol, topics of conversation and a whole lot more.  At times the mixing of cultures provides challenges that are difficult, but there are other times when a good sense of humor and healthy laugh helps to easily bridge the cultural gap.

Yesterday afternoon provided us one of these fun moments.  This was no planned activity, no ministry involvement and no gospel proclamation.  It was just a fun, unexpected moment that brought smiles and laughter for everyone.

Our children have made friends with several of the kids in the area and yesterday they were playing together outside.  One of our daughters came in after a while, all hot and sweaty, and asked if they could do something different.  Even though leaves are changing color and temperatures are dropping back in our home state, where we are now is heading into the heat of summer and the kids wanted to cool down.  What else could we do but pull our a special bag that had been brought to us so that our girls could introduce their friends to an American summer tradition - water balloons!  Oh, the laughter that ensued as the five kids worked in two languages to toss, catch, and break as many water balloons as they could!  They had such fun drenching each other and getting drenched.  No cultural barriers in that event. 

If that was not fun enough, it got even better.  Several African pastors noticed what was happening in front of our home and two of them came walking by.  They stopped, laughed at what they were seeing and took pictures with their cell phones.  They must have wondered kind of crazy activity the Americans were up to.  Both of them were dressed in slacks and dress shirts but I asked them if they wanted to give it a try.  I did not think they would do it but they excitedly agreed, put their computers, papers and phones aside and picked up a balloon.  I showed them the finer points of tossing and catching and then counted one-two-three-toss! 

You who are experienced water balloon catchers know that to catch the balloon without getting wet you must cup your hands in front of you and gently cushion it as it lands.  Never flinch, never squeeze and never, never catch the balloon above your head!  As pastor number one tossed the balloon into the air, pastor number two flinched and held his hands up high.  When the balloon hit his hands he squeezed and it exploded, soaking him from the cuffs of his long-sleeved dress shirt to the crease of his nicely pressed trousers. 

The pastor stood rather disbelievingly as water dripped from fingers and clothes while the rest of us roared with laughter.  It was too funny! 

Cultural differences can sometimes cause sticky situations, but not this time.  When an American water balloon toss crossed cultures and met with these African pastors it was nothing but FUN!

Today, I am waiting.

Tomorrow, I will probably be waiting.

Yesterday, I waited.

Welcome to our slice of Africa!

Time runs differently here than in western circles and waiting is an unavoidable fact of life.  For example …

• The city in which we live has a near constant snarl of motorcycles, taxis, container-carrying semi-trucks, and cars.  Yesterday I spent hours of wait-time in the car in order to drive a relatively few number of miles. 

• The water was out in our neighborhood recently due to broken pipes.  For two weeks we did without and waited for the pipes to be repaired.

• The power infrastructure of our area could not keep up with the demand.  We waited three months for the power to return.

• The department that issues visas assured us weeks ago that the process would move rapidly.  Two of our scheduled flights have come and gone while we have waited for our passports to return.

This all seems so negative, doesn’t it?  I do not like waiting all that much and excessive delays can cause frustration, discouragement or even anger.  However, one of the Biblical references to waiting gives an entirely different picture than this one.  “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31). 

Waiting like this, in the presence of the Lord, is not disheartening but strengthening.  When I seek Him and allow His purpose to unfold, in His timing, I find myself refreshed and renewed and not the other way around.

You may not be sitting outside of an immigration office in Africa like I am right now waiting for the return of your passport, but perhaps you are feeling the frustration that comes from delays and the unexpected.  Why don’t we both choose to stop for a bit and wait in the presence of the Lord?