Living With “Not Humanly Possible” Courage . . .

Being a believer is manageable in ordinary time, but when darkness threatens to swallow us up, walking the talk becomes more than just a challenging adventure. The experience pulls us into the lonely vortex of a God Moment. Staring down the end of “what is humanly possible,” we come face to face with powerlessness, with our own helplessness, and with the Presence of God. He’s there, where He’s always been, waiting for us to want to live in His Presence and His Power, waiting to be invited to do what we cannot do, waiting to be asked–but we *need* to ask, and to trust the God who sustains and rescues all who call out to Him. These are times when we begin to appreciate the value of surrender. Listen to Paul testifying, in the middle of his last battle, of his God’s faithfulness.

The Lord stayed with me and gave me strength, so that I was able to proclaim the full message for all to hear; and I was rescued from being sentenced to death. And the Lord will rescue me from all evil and take me safely into his heavenly Kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever! Amen. (2 Timothy 4:17-18)

What do your “God Moments” look like?

A friend of mine has had a God Moment recently. She may have a lot more of them before the year is out. She is a missionary in Kenya. Please pray for her, and for Kenya. The country is in a battle between darkness and the Kingdom of God, for the minds and souls of its people.

Here is a recent excerpt from her journal.

Today was one of the scariest days in my life. Or perhaps THE scariest one ever.

Everything seemed peaceful this morning. So much so that my friend called and asked if I’d like to go to town. He knew I needed to draw money. (The lady who helps me has no other source of income. If I don’t pay her, she literally cannot buy food. So I needed to go to the bank.) I agreed to drive.

The road to town was somewhat normal. There were about 3 vehicles still smoldering from unrest 2 days ago. But all the roadblocks were out of the way. Things seemed as normal as it can at this time.

In town, everything seemed truly normal. I went to the bank and did a few other errands, like stocking up on food and buying groceries that would last me a while.

Then I went to the market to wait for the rest of our group. As my colleague and I were sitting in the parking lot, chaos broke out. People were running everywhere. Police came charging down the road. A man ran to my car shouting “MOVE! YOU’VE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE!” But I couldn’t. The rest of the people were in the shop, which had been immediately closed. So we locked the doors and waited.

My friend came running. “Get in the back!” he shouted. I moved over to the passenger seat. But we weren’t going anywhere. The rest of our friends were still in the market.

Slowly, the chaos died down. News came that an opposition MP had been shot right in Eldoret, by a policeman! Then emergency cries started, with people shouting, “Ooooooo-wi!” That’s the way they shout when there’s a crisis. These cries were for people trying to steal street vendors’ goods.

Finally, the rest of our group came. Everyone had LOTS of supplies. We tied one bag of supplies onto the roof of my Land Rover, along with a metal trunk for one girl’s move to school next week, plus two mattresses for the dorm. EVERYONE crammed into the car. I don’t know how, but we did.

We finally managed to get through on the congested cell phone network to our second driver, who had started driving out of town when stuff happened. He returned to get most of the people. We stopped on our way out to fill my tank with diesel.

At Mayine, a little town right outside Eldoret, things looked really BAD. Two trucks were on fire right on the road. “We’ve got to keep going,” my friend said.

We were surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of angry men. My friend had his window down, trying to tell them that we’re Nandis, that we’re good people, that they should let us through. Meanwhile, people were banging against the car, hitting the windows with iron pipes!!!

I literally sat with my arms in the air praying out loud for God to protect us from the evil that surrounded us. As I’m sitting in the passenger seat, people are banging against my window too, shouting for me to give them money. I looked right into the eyes of a man standing in front of my car with a football-sized stone, ready to throw it right at me. I just prayed!!! My friend told one of the guys, “Tell that man not to throw the stone at us.” The guy said, “Hey, don’t hurt the mzungu!”

Men had climbed on top of the car in the meantime and got the bag of supplies and both mattresses.

My friend just started driving again, because you could FEEL the heat from the burning trucks which were about 10 feel from us. Then we heard one rear sliding window break, and next, a rock came through the rear window. There was glass all over, but no-one was hurt. Not even a bit. (If there were people in the back, it would’ve been different!)

My friend went through about 3 more road blocks like that, just telling the guys in Nandi, “What are you doing?? We’re just going home!” When one guy came at the car with a pick axe, my friend said, “Don’t hurt the mwanamke! ” The guy looked at me and said, “Pole!” (Sorry!) But you could just see the evil in people’s eyes. It was scary!

As soon as we could, we got off the main road and took back roads. We must’ve passed through another 20 road blocks easily! There were signs on the road blocks saying things like “STOP. ODM ROAD BLOCK.” But we were in Nandi country, and people knew my friend, so we were let through everywhere. At one place, men came at the car with bows and arrows, and more rocks, of course, and machetes, but my friend just calmly talked us through all those blocks to the point that everyone wanted to shake hands with us in the car!

By the time we were about 5 miles from home, the side window fell out. It had been completely shattered. The rear window just has a big hole in it and is completely shattered, but it’s still in place. There’s not a single other scratch or anything on the car!

I can honestly tell you that I had NEVER been so thankful to pull up to our compound!

I KNOW that I know that I know God protected us. BIG TIME. How else do people bang on your windows with metal bars and only ONE window shatters from the banging, but doesn’t break and allow the guys to loot the car?? (The rear window was different. It was a rock thrown from far. But it didn’t hurt anyone!)

The second car reached home shortly after us, having gone through a lot of stuff but nothing quite like our ordeal. Tonight, I thank God for his protection. I stared evil in the eye today. I hope I never have to go through anything like this again.

I am not planning on going to town again at all until I have to leave for class later in the month. When we’re in the village, we’re safe. But please, please keep praying for God’s protection on us, and on every vehicle.

A Missionary

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