Near the end of our time in Ethiopia, Julie and I found ourselves out in a small village in the home of a young couple. We had been invited for coffee, but it became clear very quickly that an entire meal was being prepared. We were greeted warmly and ushered into their living room. We took our places on cushions arranged on the floor around the wall of the room.
Over a marvelous feast, we listened to stories of God's activity and faithfulness.
Over a marvelous feast, we listened to stories of God's activity and faithfulness.
I can't use the names of these two new friends, or even share the specific location of our visit. As believers in a dangerous environment, this man and his wife have endured a great deal of suffering. Ethiopia is officially an "open" society when it comes to the sharing of the faith, but there is still immense pressure from those who hold power in the towns and villages.
One at a time, our new friends told their stories. Growing up in a specific faith background, the man somehow heard about Jesus and was drawn to the message of the gospel. He told us about the intense judgment of his family, periods of rejection, and the grievous persecution of his father. For some reason, he found a way to hold fast to his new faith - despite the pressure of his family. Now, many years later, several other family members have come to faith in Jesus as well. As his story continued, we heard details about time in jail. When I asked him (through our translator) if he would say that he had suffered for Jesus, he paused for a long time. Finally he answered my question, but he completely reshaped what I had asked. Instead of talking about suffering, he talked about the joy Jesus gives him and the privilege it is to belong to Jesus. It sounded like one of the stories from The Insanity of God.
Then it was time for his wife to tell her story. She grew up in a different faith background. Again, somehow, she heard about Jesus and she gave her life to him. Of course, there was the requisite rejection from her family and her faithfulness in staying true to the commitment that she had made. More recently, she has suffered tremendous pressure from the community as she continues to run a school for dozens of children there. Because she does not hold to the faith of the majority, she is seen as a threat and is opposed at every turn. With a gentle smile, she spoke only of the joy of living with Jesus and she pointed repeatedly to his provision and care. When asked about her suffering, she too shifted the question and refused to acknowledge that there was anything unusual or extraordinary about the hard things in her life.
The stories that our new friends told were so matter of fact. They saw nothing at all unusual in what that were sharing. But Julie and I felt that we were hearing a story from the Book of Acts in the New Testament. We were hearing about faith in Jesus in its earliest stages - faith that was pure and strong and true. And it touched us deeply.
We weren't intending to stay very long, but the telling of the stories made a quick departure impossible. As our time drew to a close, I was asked to pray for this young couple. They very deliberately listed five specific requests.
First, they asked that God would enable them to live truthful lives. That was the actual word that they used: truthful. I think they were saying that they wanted their lives to match their faith. Second, they asked that God would give them a child. They have been married for about three years. In their culture, a child would be a clear indication of God's blessing. Third, they asked that we pray for the school. The school has been forced out of many locations, and they are seeking a permanent setting for that ministry to children. Fourth, they asked that we pray for them as they share their faith. Fifth, they wanted us to pray that God would help them to be faithful.
I stood and I prayed. It was a holy time. And I'm quite sure that God was there . . . listening intently to the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts. In that moment, prayer was no formality. Instead, it was personal and real and alive. In that moment, prayer was essential.
Now, a couple of weeks later, I'm still grappling with their five prayer requests. I notice what they asked for - and I notice what never crossed their minds to ask. And I am humbled by this man and this woman who care most about being faithful with this work that God has placed in their hands.
I find it hard sometimes to live with that kind of focus and clarity. So, when things get muddled in my heart and mind, I'll be thinking about my two new friends in a little village in Ethiopia. They seem to have a clear sense of what matters most.
One at a time, our new friends told their stories. Growing up in a specific faith background, the man somehow heard about Jesus and was drawn to the message of the gospel. He told us about the intense judgment of his family, periods of rejection, and the grievous persecution of his father. For some reason, he found a way to hold fast to his new faith - despite the pressure of his family. Now, many years later, several other family members have come to faith in Jesus as well. As his story continued, we heard details about time in jail. When I asked him (through our translator) if he would say that he had suffered for Jesus, he paused for a long time. Finally he answered my question, but he completely reshaped what I had asked. Instead of talking about suffering, he talked about the joy Jesus gives him and the privilege it is to belong to Jesus. It sounded like one of the stories from The Insanity of God.
Then it was time for his wife to tell her story. She grew up in a different faith background. Again, somehow, she heard about Jesus and she gave her life to him. Of course, there was the requisite rejection from her family and her faithfulness in staying true to the commitment that she had made. More recently, she has suffered tremendous pressure from the community as she continues to run a school for dozens of children there. Because she does not hold to the faith of the majority, she is seen as a threat and is opposed at every turn. With a gentle smile, she spoke only of the joy of living with Jesus and she pointed repeatedly to his provision and care. When asked about her suffering, she too shifted the question and refused to acknowledge that there was anything unusual or extraordinary about the hard things in her life.
The stories that our new friends told were so matter of fact. They saw nothing at all unusual in what that were sharing. But Julie and I felt that we were hearing a story from the Book of Acts in the New Testament. We were hearing about faith in Jesus in its earliest stages - faith that was pure and strong and true. And it touched us deeply.
We weren't intending to stay very long, but the telling of the stories made a quick departure impossible. As our time drew to a close, I was asked to pray for this young couple. They very deliberately listed five specific requests.
First, they asked that God would enable them to live truthful lives. That was the actual word that they used: truthful. I think they were saying that they wanted their lives to match their faith. Second, they asked that God would give them a child. They have been married for about three years. In their culture, a child would be a clear indication of God's blessing. Third, they asked that we pray for the school. The school has been forced out of many locations, and they are seeking a permanent setting for that ministry to children. Fourth, they asked that we pray for them as they share their faith. Fifth, they wanted us to pray that God would help them to be faithful.
I stood and I prayed. It was a holy time. And I'm quite sure that God was there . . . listening intently to the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts. In that moment, prayer was no formality. Instead, it was personal and real and alive. In that moment, prayer was essential.
Now, a couple of weeks later, I'm still grappling with their five prayer requests. I notice what they asked for - and I notice what never crossed their minds to ask. And I am humbled by this man and this woman who care most about being faithful with this work that God has placed in their hands.
I find it hard sometimes to live with that kind of focus and clarity. So, when things get muddled in my heart and mind, I'll be thinking about my two new friends in a little village in Ethiopia. They seem to have a clear sense of what matters most.