Sitting on a suitcase
It is true that every one of us, is totally, totally at the mercy of God, and are totally dependent upon Him for every breath, every heart-beat, every clear and coherent thought, every moment spent in God, every second of our lives. We are utterly, totally, completely, entirely dependent upon God for every penny, every kind of money, every ounce of strength, the ability to stand, walk, feel, think, move, or even be. There came a day when I had no money at the airport, and needed a ride across the huge city of Lagos, but without the ability to pay, or the knowledge of just how to get to where I was going. So, at the crowded airport, I sat upon my suitcase, and simply and calmly waited for God to come to my assistance. I did not know what to do, having done all, to stand. I had no money to be able to make a phone call, send an email, or to, in any way know how to get the many miles to where I needed to go. Now, please note: These situations are not new to me, as there are many times that we and I have been helpless in the hands of God, not knowing at all, what to do, but, simply, to wait, in a state of anticipation and expectancy.
So, I waited. And, I waited. I watched the people around me, and looked to God as to how I could make myself useful in some way. Presently, a stranger walked up to me, and, in an excited tone, introduced himself as a taxi driver who had given me a ride, some years previously. He remembered me as a man of God, and offered to give me a ride, at no cost to me, to where ever it was that I needed to go. So, off we went, and, together we were able to reason out where it was that I was wishful of going. When we reached our destination, this driver was paid by my host, who then graciously welcomed me, and saw to my every need, until I was able to continue to my next ministry assignment.
Olanusi
We have a great friend in Nigeria named Olanusi. Each member of her family are great friends. Sister Olanusi used to be a Lt. Col with the Nigerian army as a nurse. She carried a lot of authority, and she used it well. They gave up their bedroom and bed so that we could stay at their home in Lagos. Wow! What a privilege. She and her family gently cared for Joshua our son when he became very, very ill from reactions to the Malaria medicine, called Larium. Once, when we needed an escort from the Lagos Airport, Sister Olanusi came with an armed escort. She walked through the barriers and long lines of people, and briskly escorted us through the check-points, with people of uniform smartly and meekly saluting and bowing to her authority.
Olanusi and the daughter who was beaten.
Once, Sister Olanusi's daughter Ebon, then about 17 years old, went for water at the compound well nearby. In such a situation, one joins the queue, so to speak, or gets in line to take one's turn. But there came to the well that day a local bully, who insisted on cutting into the line. Ebon courageously insisted that he wait to take his turn like everyone else. Instead, he bullied his way in front of the line, and slapped Ebon on the face. Ebon came up the stairs and told her mother, the Lt. Col. Sister Olanusi about the incident. Momma gathered her guards and apprehended the bully. His excuse was that he did not know who it was that he had slapped. Sister Olanusi's response to him was, that the next time he decided to slap someone, that he should first inquire as to who it was that he was about to slap. The bully's punishment was equal to his bullying.