Gideon and Guinea part 2

Debra told me in the most gracious and loving way yesterday that my blogs are incoherent. I think "rushed" is the word she used. Well yeah. I write these things at 6 in the morning. If they don't make sense, it's okay to furrow your brows and nod politely like they're the most profound thing you've ever read. ;)

I wrote a couple days ago about the patience God has in giving sign after sign to Gideon. I feel like that a lot: God has to get my attention in some novel new way every time He wants to work through me. What really amazes me is that 27 years later, He's still playing along, still giving me little miracles to confirm my faith. Here's the latest....

I was on a crowded train station in downtown Chicago last Tuesday. I was so distracted by a musician that I accidentally got on the wrong train. Inside the crowded car, I heard a voice remarking on my flag-patched backpack: “Are those all the countries you’ve been to? Have you been to Guinea?” I turned to see a young African man sitting behind me. He explained that he grew up in Guinea so I proceeded to pull out my best Pulaar from my 2-month visit in 2009 to ask if he spoke the language. We chatted about the Fouta, mafe tiga, and local a Guinean restaurant. He grew up in Dalaba up in the hill country. It's the most beautiful place on God's green earth, by the way.

When he heard about my time in nearby Kankalabe, he said he knew some folks there. He dropped the name of an American family and I cooly replied that they were the ones I had stayed with in the village! Even more amazing, his adopted mother was a missionary in Dalaba.

At that point I said, "Wait! What's your name?"

"Hajji!" he replied. I had indeed met his mother! She had told me all about her son living in Chicago and asked that I get in touch with him. I think I may have his contact info lying around the house somewhere!

I gave him my card and we agreed to meet up for Guinean food one of these days. At that point, I realized I was in China town… definitely not where I planned to go. I had to get off and switch trains.

It makes me wonder about things. God keeps bringing the Fulbe into my life even in Chicago. You may recall that months before coming to Guinea I randomly met a man from Kankalabe whose family I befriended while I was there. From that one contact came several good Guinean contacts who I still hear from.

Now I’m in global disciple building ministry and my heart is to impact the Africa (and especially the Sahel) by training African believers to effectively disciple others toward maturity and christlikeness. I’m still unsure how I can do this among the muslim Fulani, but there I was on a train, in the middle of a divine appointment being offered a relationship with one of the world's only Fulani believers. I think that’s cool and I can only imagine what the Lord has in mind.

That makes at least three divine appointments surrounding the Fulani. The other was when my mentor gave me a paper written by a missionary to the Fulani who beautifully embodied my philosophy of ministry AND just HAPPENED to be the father of my housemate. That connection led to a long-standing relationship with this man, and ultimately to my 2009 internship in Guinea. Is there any doubt that God has an ongoing purpose for my life regarding this semi-nomadic African tribe? 

What's the Lord up to here?

Psalm 31

I like to skip tough bible verses; especially when I'm sipping hot coffee and I want to feel good about the world. I thought I shouldn't skip this one: "Into your hands I commend your spirit..." It's one of Jesus' famous dying words. It's also buried in David's Psalm 31. Like Jesus' "Why have you forsaken me," this declaration has a rich context in the psalm that gives deep insight into his passion. Whenever Jesus makes these punctuated utterances from the cross, he's quoting from a well-known source. In modern times, if you walked by Jesus and he muttered, "you gotta serve somebody," you'd catch the Dylan reference and know what he's talking about.

I'm not sure if he means to quote the whole of Psalm 31. It would make sense: a cry for help from a man surrounded by foes. But it bothers me that history (the passion) seems much bleaker that poetry (the psalm). Let me explain. David goes on to say, "you have not handed me over to the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place." ...see I've always loved that "spacious place" imagery. It tells me that someday, I won't be in debt, I won't struggle to love my wife, and I'll find rich meaning and purpose in all I do. I won't to worry about my enemy. I'll live... well... the good life.

The cross doesn't seem like the good life. It doesn't seem like much of a spacious place. And yes, it certainly appears that God DID hand him over to his enemies. Maybe Jesus thought the deliverance was still coming, that a thousand angels would sweep him off the cross. But no... he was predicting his death and resurrection all along. Maybe when he realized Psalm 31 wasn't the best Psalm to quote, he flipped through his mental itunes library and found that one about "forsaking". I don't know.

I'm late for work so I'll cut to the chase:
1. The psalm says "enemy" (singular). In a sense Jesus was delivered from and thwarted the great enemy the Devil and Death, the toughest tool in his tool bag. Through a clever espionage Jesus slipped right out of Satan's trap and realized a richer, more spacious existence through resurrection.
2. The cross can embody the promise. The mission won't always feel like a "spacious place". This is where finally I take issue with my well-meaning friend's declaration that "God's plan is good and we will like it!" Maybe Jesus was committed to the ultimate beauty and healing of the cross. But there is no way in hell that he liked it. So I'll need to just get over some things because the joy and beauty of God is better than my dreamy definitions of the good life... Let me just chew on that for a bit.

Gideon and Guinea part 1

Don't worry. In case you don't believe that I'll actually deliver your enemies into your hands, take your servant to the edge of the camp. When you overhear their conversations about you, you'll find the confidence you need to attack.

Why on earth would God be so patient with humans? Why would He be so patient with me? Even though I know the story of Gideon beginning to end, I still imagine that impossibly tiny force rushing full of divine assurances and naivete into the enemy camp and to their death and thinking in my crusty way, "Well ain't that life!" Maybe that's because in spite of real live miracles in my life, I still wake up each morning waiting for the other foot to fall. It's not that I don't have proof that God has a good plan for me. It's just that it doesn't SEEM possible that a life of claimed promises could exist, at least for someone like me.

But God really is patient with me. Because every time I cross my proverbial arms at God's promises, He either waits me out until my curiosity gets the better of me or He says, "Alright, you want assurances? Check this out!" ....stay tuned for the funny way He got my attention last week... ;)