When I was informed that my team would be doing ministry on an island my mind went a little wild. Images of white sandy beaches started reeling through and crystal clear waters, sleeping between two palm trees in my hammock… the good life.
My shallow desires were to be able to finally come to a place where I could enjoy my ministry but I was only thinking circumstantially. Me in my small, fleshly mind thought if my circumstances were good I would be happy and be able to spread the gospel way more joyfully.
The funny thing was that my idea of an island was quickly swept away by the trashed filled waters that lined the black sand shore (if you could really even call it a shore). Trash and chickens were scattered throughout the sandy streets (which were not streets in the way you might imagine, consisting of only sand and dirt… no pavement) and homes were poorly constructed consisting of wood planks, tin roofs and some cardboard here and there to make up for the holes. Some homes were made of concrete but only for those wealthy enough.
Humbly out host, Simon, explained that the island was known to be the place in Abidjan where rejects and unwanted, those giving up on life would go to live after giving up hope of any sort of a better life. He kindly informed us that though He knew this was far from the accommodations we were used to, He would make sure we had everything we needed and that we would be taken care of with the best of what he had.
He welcomed us into his home (which was constructed from concrete) which consisted of a community area with a table, chairs, cushioned chairs and a television, a kitchen and three bedrooms. The seven of us were given our own room with four bunk beds and a bathroom. It was quite the small space for all seven of us, especially with the heat and humidity we were not yet accustomed to. We did not have running water and would have to fetch water from a well to flush the toilet and take bucket showers (filling a bucket with water and using a cup to dump the water on your body). It was a month where my team and I had to come to the Lord and choose to not let our physical circumstances affect the outcome of our month.
As I reflect on my experience month four, I can recognize God blessings being poured out on me graciously throughout the month, making what was known to be a place for the lost, to be a place where I was found. A place full of rejection became a place where I learned to abide in the Lord. A place lacking in hope and love became the place where I found hope in believing that man could love, that I could love and that I could let others love who I was.
The joy that the devil had tried to suppress within me began bubbling up inside of me, little by little as I began to trust in the goodness of my father. I was so focused on everything that my Father was revealing to me that I rarely thought about the heat or the lack of running water. God began to open my eyes to those around me and I began to trust in loving again.
Now let my tell you, if you ever struggle with accepting love from others or finding joy in your heart… go to Africa.
Actually though, Africa is not the answer. Jesus Christ is the answer. Africa was just where I finally let the guy in.
But to make a case for God here… He knew. He knew I wasn’t letting him in, he knew I was holding him at an arm’s length; he knew I was scared to trust him. And so you know what he did? He stuck me in Africa on an island with living and breathing examples of who he is. For a month I was surrounded and worked with five men that relentlessly pursued the Lord. But it wasn’t their pursuit of the Lord that struck me, it was the way they loved me.
God in his goodness showed me that if I can trust some African men I had never really known, how much more could I trust the love of Christ. God’s hand was all over my month in Cote d’Ivore and the more I saw how much God loved me the happier I became.
Love seeped out of every corner, every cranny in that little house. Simon had tried installing a ceiling fan for us to help with the heat and never stopped trying for the entirety of the month. His daughter Meiamo stole my heart and let me see myself for who I was as a child… filled with joy and laughter. Josephat showed me to trust in the love of the Lord and loved me like a sister. The women showed me how beautiful it is to be a submissive wife and love their husbands well by supporting them, lifting them up, respecting them. The people of the island showed me that I am a giver of life because I have Jesus Christ inside of me. I preached for the first time on that island and the fire that was stirred within my soul… the privilege that it was to speak truth into the lives of the lost.
(from the left: Marceal, Richard, Simon, Kone, Katy, Augustine and Josephat)
(Meiamo and I)
(My inspirational women/the submissive wives who do have names I just can’t spell, pronounce or remember them… God knows though lol)
It was on that island that God gave me a new perspective. The voices of the devil started to dwindle and I began finding who I am. I am someone who is loved by others and I am someone who loves others. I am someone who is forgiven and will not dwell on the mistakes of my past. I am someone who was deemed worthy the night Jesus Christ died on the cross and so I will spread the love he has shown me everywhere I go. I am someone who listens to voices of truth and will not be deceived by the lies of the devil.
I am someone who the Lord delights in and just to seal that promise the Lord blessed me with a new name on my little island. It is a name the locals call the girls who were born on Mondays but to me it means so much more.
They called me Akissi, and it was a way the Lord showed me that those people, the joy they had, the healing I had found, the love I had received, all of it was like a little kiss from up above.
I am forever thankful for my little African island.
-Akissi
