a surrender - 56

(Continuing "a surrender", chapter seven, "freely have you received, freely give") 

Sara, a friend I had met online, picked us up from the library and we enjoyed being with her family for almost a week. The day after we left them, she wrote to tell us that her four-year-old daughter had seemed worried about us. “I want dem to stay all night, ‘cuz I yuv dem,” she told Sara. “If dey det a baby boy or dirl dey will need a house.” But when Sara told her that God would provide a house for us when we needed one, she seemed satisfied. “Dod a’ways helps us,” she said. 

Two days later we were in a library and a man struck up a conversation with Heather. He introduced himself as a pastor, an African, from Cameroon. When Heather told him that her great-grandparents were missionaries there years ago, he got excited and began asking more about our walk. Soon we were at his house, sharing cassava dipped in a soup made from chicken and spices and greens. Quite good. And he was very impressed that Heather knew how to eat it and dug right in with her fingers. The pastor offered to drive us down the road a ways. But then, as we described our next planned visit to a rural community known for their work with international refugees, he decided he wanted to take us all the way and see the place for himself.

We were warmly welcomed and ate with the community and their summer volunteers. They were also welcoming some new refugees arriving from Burma that day. In the evening, we visited the houses of some other families staying there, from Chad and Burundi. I thought they wouldn’t appreciate a crowd appearing at their door, but they seemed quite pleased and welcomed everyone in. Then the singing started, traditional African songs in their native language, with everyone clapping along and sing-ing and ululation for applause.

Just before we left, the pastor stood up to say a few words and pray. He spoke in French so someone could translate to the African dialect, while Heather translated into English. He was very impressed by his experience here. I remember him saying before he drove away, “This is how it should be.”

Continued...