Night time falls upon us and we shuffle outside. Sitting in the dark on swings and old tires. Shadows silhouetted against a backdrop of cows and fences. The humidity inside the church building is too much. We talk and laugh. Is this what life was like before all the distractions? People spending time together outside until odd hours. Community and deeper relationships?
Outside stars shimmer down upon the little ragtag band of homes. A small grouping of farms and homesteads. No one really has running water. A little grocery store is a little over a mile walk away.
Life is simpler. The Goats outside constantly yelling for Ed. I don?t know who the heck this guy is, but the goats love him.
It is here in Swaziland, a kingdom of inconvenience, we are living among the people. The American comforts of temperature control, clean water, a bathroom, a shower, are exotic notions. It harkens back to a time long ago. Before all the modern notions and ways of keeping life sanitary and comfortable.
One night a lightning storm passed over us. I was sitting in my tent reading a comic about Thor. I?ve had prouder moments. The lights flickered. I snickered. Then the lightning hit the building. The power went out and an awesome show of the power and display of God started to happen. We rose in the darkness. The cement floor slick with the water pouring in from our tin roof. Around us the earth-splitting noise of thunder cracked. I felt so small. The roof sounded as if the very storm would tear it away from us.
So this is what it?s like. To have no control. To know that the universe and weather are much greater than oneself. Without the modern inventions of lightning rods and safety devices, the unbridled rage of a passing storm could literally mean death. Lightning began striking the building again and the power box started smoking. Sparks flying out. Eric got slightly electrocuted. Oh Eric. So conductive.
In that moment, all six of us gathered together and began to pray. The storm hovered over us for a longtime. All through the night the building filled with water and rattled in the wind. The lightning eventually moved on to greater fields and the occasional cow to electrocute.
I am amazed at the power of God. I think somewhere in the Action Movies and Electronic distractions, safety and convenience, the simple power of a lightning storm is lost. An unassailable force of nature. We forget how small and mortal we really are. That life is real and at any moment a storm could sweep in and destroy everything. We are always at the very mercy of God.
Brad asked the question. ?Is this storm from God??
I wasn?t sure. I mean Satan is the prince and the power of the air. And the storm was doing a nice job trying to kill us.
?Maybe we won?t ever find out why we had this storm. Maybe we will. I hope we do before we leave Swaziland.? Mused one of them.
Psalm 27 has been on my heart this month. How God is the source of my light, my very stronghold, whom shall we fear? If God is who we take refuge in, we need not be afraid of so many things. Except maybe God Himself. Fearing Him is the beginning of wisdom. The stunning beauty of life, sunsets, squirrels, kisses. It all shows this masterful artist who created a beautiful poetic work of art for life.
Yet there is a scarier side to that. God is utterly powerful. Able to conquer kingdoms and destroy strongholds.
I think in the haze of daily life it is easy to try and block God out. To make Him seem a distant notion.
The next day we awoke. Our food spoiled. We had to pack our tents and clear out the building for a church service. Exhausted and weary. When several asian people walked into the building. I asked them were they were from.
Taiwan.
For those who don?t know, I was a missionary there for two years. I get homesick for the place. The Taiwanese spoke in broken english and Mandarin and told us they were christians. After the storm they had decided to attend church that morning but the church they went to wasn?t having a service. Then they saw a man walking the road with a bible and he turned out to Pastor this church we stayed in. So the Taiwanese went to our church in the middle of nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. There are only like 27 Million Taiwanese people. It's not easy to find them.
As we spoke they excitedly invited all of us over for lunch. That day we feasted like kings amidst the house of kind christians. Instead of peanut butter and jelly we ate meat and rice. We talked for hours with the Taiwanese, sang songs, and prayed.
I know in the messiness of life little moments like that lose value. Yet when you are unshowered, tired, and constantly assaulted by the uncomfortable. It meant the world. It meant so much that God would personally and divinely send people from Taiwan to meet us. Invite us in. And take care of us after the storm.
I think in the end it doesn?t matter if the storm was from a good or a bad source. What matters is who we trusted in during the storm. What matters is believing that God has a reason and a purpose for those moments in life that the entire world seems to be crumbling and falling apart.
Us men meet outside at night on the swings once more. It?s amazing the joy and peace that is expressed here. In America, someone messing up an order at McDonalds can spoil the whole mood. Yet here with dirty roads and giant spiders, we all celebrate. God is good and richly providing daily food. Comfort after storms. And in ways few can understand. Sometimes living in the dingy, poor, and forsaken places of the world is the most enjoyable thing I know.
