Why are we even here?
For the last 5 days, that question has plagued me and many of my teammates.
To help you understand my suddenly existential thought process, I want you to first imagine Africa. What’s the first thing you think of? What’s the first image that comes to mind when you think of a mission work in Africa?
I’ll be honest; I had expectations. I know that Adventures has a way of telling you to not come to the World Race with any expectations, but I did. I’ve seen pictures and read blogs and Kisses from Katie.
We arrived in Abidjan, the economic capital city of Cote d’Ivoire, after 58 long hours of travel. Six of those hours were spent in Dubai, where we grabbed some taxis to see the Burj Khalifa. With the time changes, random adventures, and airplane pseudo-sleep, I had little on my mind when I arrived besides my own exhaustion. We quickly learned about “Africa time” and at the end of that arrival day, we’d taken multiple vans, mini busses, and taxis before getting to our home for the month.
Team Kaleidoscope (who you can meet in this wonderful intro video! Thanks JJ for the footage and motion sickness: https://youtu.be/9dgJJDqXPLU) is living and doing ministry with another team, Worthy Warriors, this month, and while we have an incredible place to stay and a friendly neighborhood full of curious parents and children that are absolutely obsessed with Esther, we quickly realized we did not have a “set” ministry. This excited us, because we’d heard the lectures at Training Camp and Launch: Anything can become ministry. Minister to teammates. Make something (Kingdom) out of your month.
As the days went on, however, we also realized that we had no information…about anything. We spent our second day on “house arrest,” as we joked, because we’d ventured out for food on our first day and been apprehended by someone from the church we were apparently doing ministry with and they’d been very concerned. We’d gone relatively far and the local language is French—which I can speak very slowly and with the vocabulary of a 5-year-old—and we are also new to the area and had put our complete trust in a stranger to lead us to the supermarket, so they were definitely justified to ask us to not leave our house.
I liked playing with the neighborhood kids, and I liked having fellowship and ministering to my teammates, but an annoying voice kept playing in my mind: What are we even doing? As the week progressed, confusion marked our days; we didn’t know what was supposed to be happening at all. Did we have a ministry contact? Who is our contact? Are we allowed to leave this house? One evening, we weren’t even sure if we were staying at the house and packed up our things, and then found out we were staying and unpacked (and here I’d thought those pack/unpack drills at Training Camp were unrealistic…)
On Saturday, we finally had a set plan for the day: we would go to a church service at the church we would be partnering with. The service, which was translated, was for the church’s young adults and focused on relationships built on Christ. Afterwards, we met the young people of the church and met with the English Church pastor that we’d be working with. It was exciting to share our passions with him as he brainstormed ways we could be used.
The next morning we returned for the church service, but what I encountered was unexpected. The bigger part of the church—the French-speaking part—had T.V.s and cameramen, a giant sound system, and an incredible worship team. It was unlike anything I’d experienced in church before. And the church is beautiful; tile and marble and without walls—it’s like an open-air pavilion. Remember what I said about expectations for Africa? Mine were completely wrecked.
After church, the young people and the pastors were meeting again to discuss what they had for us—I was told that in truth, they hadn’t really expected us and didn’t know what to do with 13 missionaries. They were trying to come up with a program for us, and the exasperating feeling of confusion again weighed on me. The decision was made to just spend Monday having a worship, prayer, and testimony session that would help us surrender these weeks to God.
I left church on Sunday trying to wrap my head around the same question: Why are we here? It was hard to imagine how we could serve a church that has so many resources and is so grounded. I’d glimpsed the disparity in the distribution of wealth in Abidjan—should our ministry lie there? In the church? In our neighborhood? I still had so many questions.
I tell you all of this background so that maybe God’s goodness today would shine extra bright; it’s hard to explain how incredible today was without telling you why it felt so good compared to days of confusion and frustration.
Today, we had the session of worship, prayer and testimony. I couldn’t contain my grin when the worship leader said something along the lines of, “When we worship, we dance!” and our church family got in a cha-cha line of sorts and we danced and praised to the music. We had a message about zealous young people of the Bible who truly knew God’s heart and so obeyed Him—and by doing so, changed the destiny of those around them. There was FIRE in that message. For the testimony time, the pastor asked for testimonies of what made us want to be missionaries and come to Cote d’Ivoire. I didn’t know this, but there are also 3 missionaries from Ghana here this week, too. We heard from the young Ghanaian missionaries that are with an organization that goes from Ghana to other parts of Africa to evangelize and speak truth to the teenage populations of communities. JJ spoke from our team, telling the group that Heaven is our home, so that’s why we leave our earthly homes—to bring others home, too. And Kelsey from the Worthy Warriors team spoke about the vision of ministry that we are pursuing while on the Race: leading missional lives. We heard one more story from one of the church’s young adults about how he had come to know Christ as his savior.
The pastor returned to the stage and thanked both missionary groups and the young man. He pointed out that we all thought that mission work was important enough to leave our homes and comforts for—we left the US, and the others had left Ghana—and that we knew the saving power of Jesus. He then pointed out the brand-new mall that has just opened next door to the church: Abidjan Mall.
“There’s people in there”, he said, “that don’t know Jesus. You just said that missions can be anywhere: in your office, home, or another country. Well, there’s a mall right there.”
He handed us each 2 invitations to the church’s “40 days of Spiritual Refreshment” service that will take place soon, a service that is aimed to cement the church’s habits in worship, prayer, reading (the entire New Testament!), listening, memorization, and fasting.
“I’m giving you a mission challenge. You’re going to Abidjan Mall for 30 minutes. Tell two people about Jesus and invite them to these services. French-speakers, partner with an English-speaker.”
I sat there, somewhat stunned. I mean, this is why I’m here. I looked around, and saw similarly surprised looks on the faces of the Ivorian young adults. There were shy smiles, giggles, and widened eyes.
“You have 30 minutes!” The pastor encouraged us as he shooed us out of the church. We streamed out of the church next door, and I felt excited and nervous all at once.
My partner, Deborah, and I got to the mall and prayed. God, who do you want us to meet?
Deborah pointed out a group of 4 teenaged girls at a table. We approached them, and Deborah asked in French in we could sit with them. I saw the hesitation on their faces and a muttering about Jesus, but they let us sit. Deborah said they understood English, so I jumped in.
I started to tell them why I was here as a missionary, about why I left a life and a place that I loved. As I told them that I believed that I was grown so well in Juneau so that I could bear fruit for others, like them, I felt like God wanted me to just tell them that He loves them. Kind of a basic message, God. But whatever.
So I did. I told them that God made them and loves them and knows them, that nothing they do could ever change that. That He’d long ago decided loving them and knowing them was worth the highest price, and Jesus died to pay that price—that is how much they are loved. At this point, one of the girls started to cry, but I knew I hadn’t upset her—I believe the Holy Spirit was moving in her.
I told them that nothing can separate them from the love of God that is in Christ. I asked them if they had Bibles, and they said they did, so I told them where I’d learned that I can’t be separated from God’s love and why I had that hope: Romans 8:38-39. I shared that that was my favorite verse and invited them to the upcoming services to learn more about it. I learned their names and meant it when I said I hoped I would see them on Sunday. I wanted so badly to stay with them longer!
When we all reconvened at the church, demeanors were visibly changed. Faces that had been shy or hurried were lit up, and different pairs of Racers and Ivorians shared their mall experiences with the group. There was such excitement as we shared; some had talked to Indian people, others to Muslims, and others to locals. The opportunity to share Jesus with so many had lit a tangible spark among us; I could feel the lightness and excitement.
Even when we returned back to the house, we couldn’t stop talking about it. A group that had rode home with our pastor said that he was so greatly encouraged by this spontaneous challenge that he had mused about making something more out of this mall outreach idea. For now, we still don’t know 😉
But hey, what else is new? What we DO know is that tomorrow, we will be going to a part of the city where there are many people facing homelessness (JJ sparked this idea!) and on Saturday, we’ll go to another city to evangelize (STOOOOOKED)!
As I sat in my hammock and looked out at my neighborhood this evening, I thought about how confused I’d felt until today. I thought about the joy our Ivorian brothers and sisters had in sharing the Gospel and their response to the “mission challenge.” I thought about the changed demeanors. Would they have done this challenge if we weren’t here? I didn’t know. A thought crossed my mind: Maybe this month, we’re iron sharpening iron. Maybe we’re simply fanning sparks that will roar into missional lives.
I know I needed the surrender that today brought. Despite the fact that this week, we didn’t know what to do, and our host church didn’t exactly know what to do with us, God had bigger and better plans for us all. Ministry hasn’t looked at all like what I thought it might be like, and I’m sure God will continue to smash any box I try to put Him in.
Father, you are God and I am not. I don’t need to know what you’re doing here. Your plans and Your love for this city are so much greater than any that I could muster. Thank you for bringing Kingdom out of confusion.
If you would be praying for our outreach on Tuesday, Saturday, and for all the seeds planted today, that would be AWESOME! Thank you!
RANDOM OTHER THINGS I’VE LEARNED
How to clear a dinner table full of Racers: Scream, “MALARIA!” Watch as Racers scramble out of their seats as they suddenly remember that taking malaria medication is a daily discipline.
Also, scenarios from Training Camp CAN happen. All within 3 days. You may share a bed with 3 teammates. Your taxi driver WILL leave you and the taxi running on the side of the road in Dubai. You WILL unpack and pack and then unpack your backpack.
