On Monday, we were exactly 1.5 miles away from our hostel.
Why do I know that, you ask? I know this because we were at Sunyani Polytechnic University, which also happens to be our turn-around point when we go running.
It was first-year registration and move-in day at the university and the hostel near the university.
Naturally, 18 American missionaries and their Ghanaian ministry hosts would be walking the premises today as well. Approaching the freshmen clustered and curious on benches, forcing casual (and by casual I mean often awkward) conversation, trapping them in registration lines; it was bound to be a good day.
(Plus, I just love meeting freshmen. So much angst and hope)
And the day was full of fun interactions, but two in particular stuck out to me by the end of the day.
The first was actually my first interaction of the day. I had just started walking with Georgina, one of the youth who come with us to ministry. I saw a girl walking towards me, wearing a head covering. I decided to talk to her.
“Hi, my name’s Brittni!”
“My name is Saratu,” she said. I told her that I was a missionary from America, and that I was on campus to invite people to the campus ministry and church.
I started to laugh a little self-consciously, asking, “So…have you ever been to a Christian church before…?”
“No.” She said with a small laugh. Well, at least we both find this interaction humorous.
“Well if you’re ever curious, you can come! I’d love to see you there. Where are you from?”
She told me a city that I hadn’t heard of. “That’s in the north,” Georgina filled me in. She directed her next words to Saratu, “Are you a Muslim?”
“Yes.”
“That’s okay!” I said quickly, “We’d love to have you. Do you… know about Jesus?”
“He was a prophet.”
Another voice asked a question, “So, what do you think about Jesus?” Suddenly, JJ had appeared. He does that sometimes.
“He was a man, but not the Son of God.”
Her and JJ went back and forth answering and asking more questions about Jesus and sin. “Why would he need to die, though? That doesn’t make sense, how can he be God? God can just forgive us, why would anyone need to die for someone else’s sin?”
“Only God could present a perfect sacrifice, so Jesus died to be that perfect sacrifice for us.”
“But if you say that Jesus died to forgive you, that means you can just keep on sinning, right? You’re forgiven, so you can just sin. That doesn’t make sense.”
“But the forgiveness is a gift, we believe that you have to believe that Jesus paid the price of your sin and accept that gift.” I added.
The conversation went on, full of hard questions from Saratu and hard but loving responses from JJ. I, though, had taken a step back from the conversation, prayed for the conversation, and then was met by a familiar enemy: doubt.
Why can’t I have the right words? Why am I not a better apologist? God, why can’t I hear You, and why won’t You just tell me what I should say to answer her questions?
I wanted so badly to have a rebuttal. I was able to elaborate a couple times, but I would only get a few words in before my response was answered and the conversation was taken towards a new topic the response had brought up. I was interested-so interested-by felt like I had nothing to add or say.
God, I just want the clear pictures and right words to give her. Why am I not helpful right now?
I won’t lie; I was frustrated at myself, and then frustrated at myself for being frustrated at myself. I smile and nodded for the rest of the time.
The conversation ended well, and Saratu gave her contact information to Georgina. I thanked Saratu and told her that we live super close, and that hopefully later in the week we could meet up and talk some more.
As we walked away, I knew I’d been taken out of a good head space. I was still frustrated and discouraged-and then I was even more so because I knew I was being short. We information-bombed a few registration lines, but my heart wasn’t really in it.
We saw two clusters of benches. I headed to one, and JJ went to the other. The five young men there welcomed me and I introduced myself. One of them asked me questions that I needed to answer, or rush get, re-answer for myself that day: “What motivates you to leave your home to come here and tell us about Jesus?” And when I answered, “He’s changed my life, and it’s so good that I want others to hear,” he asked, “What good thing did he do?” And THAT lead me to sharing my testimony!
They were Christians, but they still liked hearing it. After praying for them and their witness on campus, I met back up with JJ, ready to single out unsuspecting freshmen and feeling refreshed.
We saw a young man on a bench and zeroed in. We walked up, introducing ourselves. He let us sit on either side of him. He told us his name was Mohammed, and he said he was from the north. I see what you’re doing here, God.
JJ asked if he was Muslim, and he said he was. I laughed and pointed out that he was wearing a bracelet that said, “proud to be Catholic.” He laughed and shook his head,
“Someone gave this to me, I’m not Catholic.”
We told him that we were Christians, and we asked the same question, “Who do you think Jesus is?”
“He was a prophet.”
We told him that we believe that he’s the Son of God, our Savior, and that he loves us and knows us.
“Can I tell you my story of how I’ve experienced Jesus?” JJ asked. Mohammed said he could. And JJ did, telling Mohammed his testimony and the way Jesus saved him.
“He gave me a new life, I was born again. He came to live inside of me. I have a new life. You can have new life too. Have you ever heard that before?”
Mohammed looked puzzled. “No…” He said slowly, “I’ve never heard anyone say that.”
“Can I read you something from the Bible?”
“Yes, yes.” Mohammed quickly agreed. JJ read to him from Colossians (I want to say from Colossians 2?).
“Paul wrote that,” I explained. “Do you know what Colossians is…do you know who Paul the Apostle is?”
“No,” he said, smiling, “I think I’ve heard the name but I don’t know who he was. Who is Paul?”
I got so excited.
“Oh, great! I’d love to tell you about him…can I tell you who Paul is?” I said, probably too excitedly. Again, Mohammed told me to continue. I told him about Paul and the way Jesus met him, blinded him, and changed his life, about how Paul became a missionary. I told him that Paul wrote letters to the people he’d visited, and that that’s what “Colossians” is. As I was talking, I felt like I stumbled over my words because of how exciting it was to meet someone who had never heard of Paul.
“Wow. I’ve never heard that story before.” He said pensively.
“Yeah, and that’s why we’re here, too. To tell you about Jesus and how he changes lives.”
“Can I write something down for you, Mohammed?” JJ asked. Mohammed nodded and JJ wrote down on a slip of paper the passages in John 6 that talk about Jesus being the Bread of Life, and explained the way we remain in Christ and how his life becomes ours. The piece of paper actually had the verse printed out on it; JJ had written it all down a few days before, and God’s plan for that paper was suddenly evident.
“Do you want to read more about Jesus? Do you want to read it for yourself?”
“Yes.” Mohammed said with another of his shy smiles. I explained to him that “John” is a book of the Bible, circling that part of the address, and that John was a disciple of Jesus.
“Jesus travelled with and taught John. He had 12 friends who were with him, have you heard that?”
“Oh, yes, I heard that 12 men were with him.”
“Yes, they weren’t super special or anything. Some of them were fishermen, even. But Jesus said to them, ‘Come,’ and their lives were never the same when they decided to walk with Jesus.”
“Fishermen? Oh. Hmm.”
“Yeah, and so that’s what the first 4 books in the New Testament are called, the Gospels. They’re from different points of view, but they all knew Jesus,” I explained.
“My favorite is Luke, I think,” I added with a smile, “but John is where you can read about Jesus and how he is the Son of God.”
“Okay!”
“Oh…um, you don’t have a Bible, do you?” I realized that there was probably no good reason why he would have a Bible. A solution came immediately to my mind.
“Do you have a smartphone?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Let me write something down for you then. There’s an app, the Bible App, that you can download if you want to read John.”
JJ showed him what the app looked like on a phone and how to find the book of John. I wrote down the name of the app.
Finally, we asked if we could pray with him, and again, Mohammed encouraged us to. We prayed for him, that God would continue to reveal Himself to him, that Mohammed would come to know Jesus as the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
JJ and I were so STOKED afterwards. We replayed the conversation,
“I’m so glad you told your testimony!”
“Thinking of the Bible app-that was so good!”
“The whole interaction–so cool! He didn’t know who Paul was–and he wanted to know more! JJ, he keot that passage, he let you read to him from Colossians…ahh!”
As we talked about the two interactions with Saratu and Mohammed, something became clear to me.
With Saratu, I had clamored and wanted the right words. I had prayed, gotten frustrated, and then prayed frustrated prayers like, “God, why can’t I hear you? Why won’t you just tell me what to say? Am I not listening? What’s wrong with me? Why am I not being used?” –UGH. With Mohammed, it was so different; I love hearing and telling stories. Telling the story of Paul was exciting and fun for me. That came naturally…and God used that.. He used a passion and ability that I already have–I didn’t need to struggle to be used. I just was, when I let Him meet me where I was at. I didn’t need to try to be a “better” missionary-I don’t need to be a better apologist or have great theological answers. I just needed to show up and be myself, and let God put the puzzle together the way He knows best.
I’ve loved all of the campus evangelism, but this day was probably my favorite. God showed me so starkly the difference between how it feels to try to do something on my own versus how it goes when I let Him use me (and not the other, brick-headed way around). Gosh, He is so good to teach me. Mohammed’s curiosity that turned to hunger was so exciting, and I’m still hoping we can go back and talk to him before we leave on Monday. And if not, him and Saratu will be in my prayers.
Thanks for reading this story from Sunyani! It’s so dear to my heart. If you want, please join me in prayer for Saratu and Mohammed. 🙂
We leave Sunyani SO SOON. I have loved being here, and as excited as I am to be headed to Nepal next week (um, what is life?) my heart is going have a few bits left in this beautiful place.
