God Affirms a Vision

“The apartment was cold in the morning, around 10 degrees Celsius. I built a fire in the little woodstove provided for us in the sitting room, and then wondered how I would go about finding breakfast. We had arrived in this small North African city a few days ago, and my wife had been ill ever since. Hesitant due to my non-existent language ability yet propelled by the lack of food in our lodgings, I ventured out in search of some daily bread. After winding my way out of the apartment blocks, I wandered through the rubble of an open square, admiring the artistic designs and political messaging graffitied onto the walls. A group of teenagers seemed surprised to see me, and laughingly struck up the best English conversation they could muster. I tried to tell them I was getting food for my sick spouse but was met with that familiar communication stalwart – the smile and nod. Returning a smile and nod of my own, I climbed the stairs and set out towards the center of town. We had travelled to this country – and specifically to the highlands of this country – to discover if our wills matched up with the Lord’s. We are confident that He desires to be known in this totally churchless place, and that He will honour any sacrifices His children make to that end, but as a couple we needed to know whether we could joyfully agree with one another in responding to that desire. Throughout our one-month stay there, I was astonished at the level of peace and certainty that dominated my heart at every turn. As we explored unknown territory, met new people, caught (or failed to catch) public transportation, and got sick, I knew beyond a doubt that the Father had us in His hands… nothing could go truly “wrong.” The ornate minarets of the central mosque towered over the food stalls surrounding it. I approached a vendor just as the call to prayer rang out, hoping against hope that he spoke some English. Deciding not to dishonour the man’s native tongue with what Google Translate just taught me, I butchered a bit of French instead. He looked puzzled, cocked his head to the side and perfectly enunciated, “do you speak English at all?” I assured him I did. When he learned about my wife’s condition, he added a few olives to my order and let me take the clay mini-oven it was cooked in; I would simply return it to him when she was finished eating. With styrofoam box in-hand, I journeyed back home with a full heart. Jesus was sharing His love for this place and its people with us both, and in that moment I knew: it is going to be our pleasure to follow Him there for as long as He so chooses.”

Scroll to Top