My team had quite the adventure this past weekend. We got a weekend away from Choke and were able to have some fun for a couple of days in a nearby beach town called Bilene. It was a smaller town, with white sandy beaches and a lagoon for swimming, connecting to the Indian Ocean.
Our host, Sybil, had arranged accommodations for us with an innkeeper that she knew personally. The innkeeper didn’t have any rooms for us at the inn, but because of her relationship with Sybil, was willing to let us stay at her house, since she would be out of town.
We traveled there Saturday morning with another team from our squad that is doing ministry nearby. Right away we went to the beach but realized it would be wise to find our inn and get a little settled. When we got to the inn, after about twenty minute walk in the hot sun, the inn keeper’s son wasn’t there, who was the one we were supposed to talk to, but someone else showed us a room. Plans had changed and there actually was a room for us to stay in right at the inn on the beach. So we checked out the room, got ready for the afternoon at the beach, and then walked back to where our squadmates were hanging out.
We had a great time being refreshed by the warm lagoon waters and hot sunshine and working on our chaco tans. [I got a great sunburn that I’m hoping still will turn into a nice tan]. We played and enjoyed a late lunch and then headed back to our inn.
Once we got to the inn, the inn keeper’s son was back and he had some news for us. Turns out there was a misunderstanding about our room and we were still, in fact, going to be staying at his mom’s house. He was going to take us there after he closed up the restaurant. So we hung out and enjoyed the view from the veranda, glad for the reprieve from the sun. The son realized he was going to be longer than he thought, but was going to have two of the women, who worked at the restaurant, take us to the house.
Before we left though, he asked if we could pay the weekend’s rent because he most likely wouldn’t see us the rest of the weekend. We had no problem with that, as he seemed like a trusting guy, and paid him and followed the ladies. We went on another 20 minute trek, this time up a hill that wasn’t as close to the beach as we had heard it was.
We arrived at dusk to our rental. The ladies had a hard time getting into the house with their keys, so we patiently waited, with a few surveyers watching us from the street. Finally, one of the women went around the house and somehow let herself in the house. When we walked in, there was a funny smell and as we walked through the house, realized the mattresses were gone and the place was kind of trashed. I wasn’t feeling too good about the situation, but wasn’t quite sure what we were going to do.
Turns out, the house had been broken into, had a party thrown in it, and robbed before we arrived. But since the inn keeper’s son wasn’t with us, we weren’t really sure what was going to happen. Jenny, my squad leader, was with us and pulled me aside for a quick little chat. Neither one of us felt comfortable staying there, especially since the accommodations we were expecting weren’t even there. So we had to come up with a plan, well more like plan a: step 1 and plan b: step 1. Not really sure where the steps were going to lead.
Jenny quickly got the inn keeper’s son on the phone trying to figure out what to do and communicate with him. We knew we needed to find someplace else to stay. So Jenny headed down the hill, back into town with two others of my teammates, leaving me at the house with 3 other teammates, and the ladies who brought us to the house in the first place.
As I was left to lead the group at the house, fear crept in. I didn’t want to be the one to stay at the house. We were at the top of a hill with not a ton of other houses around. I couldn’t speak or understand the ladies who we were with because of language barriers.
We were waiting for the inn keeper’s son to get to the house and check out the scene. He had said over the phone that he would refund us our money. But in the back of my head, I couldn’t help but fear that this was all part of a scam. That he wouldn’t ever show up or give us back our money.
Then another part of my brain went to fear for being left as it was getting dark. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen Taken one too many times. But my thoughts went to a fear that this was a setup. And we would be taken and forced into who knows what.
My teammates and I had already prayed for God’s hand in it all. But even those prayers seemed lost to me. Nothing was comforting in the times of fear. All I could think of was the worst case scenario and couldn’t bring my thoughts elsewhere.
And that’s when it hit me. Trusting God isn’t my natural instinct. It’s my natural instinct when things are going well. When it’s for a trial that isn’t detrimental to my physical being. But fear? I realized that’s a whole different ballgame.
And it made me sad. Why is fear so crippling to me? Why can’t I just trust the Lord and His provision for it all? And I think I’ve come to know why. It’s something that my cousin Adam said to me right before I left in a text message. He said, “Remember Jesus isn’t safe, but He’s good.”
Bingo. Fear for my safety is the pinpoint. Because God doesn’t promise to keep me safe. He promised to do whatever is good for His glory. So it could mean that I get hurt or things go awry because it’s for His good. Not mine.
And that’s a hard gulp to swallow. Because culture says I must be safe at all times. Whereas God says I must trust Him at all times. And trusting God and His promise of safety aren’t synonymous. But He is good. So even when my fear paralyzes me and I go directly to the worst case scenario, I must learn to trust. To train myself that trusting God must become my natural instinct.
So eventually, after the sun had set, the innkeeper’s son arrived to the house. He inspected the damage, and after a quick conversation, returned our money to me and was very apologetic about the whole thing. We walked down the hill to the rest of our team who was waiting at the lodging they had found.
The lodging ended up working out better than our original place. And it was cheaper. We had a great time relaxing that evening and enjoying the beach for another day.
After all that fear and worry, it was all for nothing. I sure wish I would have been able to praise God and laugh in the moment instead of fearing. Fear sure does have a way of robbing us from so much joy, making me look just as empty as the house we were originally supposed to stay at. And I’m tired of letting the thief win. Especially since Jesus has already won.
