Where Lord do you want me? How many times had I asked that question? After this past week God has answered numerous prayers and spoken clearly as to His path for this stage of my life. After a year of praying and communicating over the assignment possibilities in both Ikotos ( rural Sudan ) and Torit I finally had the chance to see in person the Ikotos area and community.
As with any journey anywhere into Sudan the time was exciting, confusing and slightly unnerving. Ikotos is a small, market centered community that has a small but growing Africa Inland Church mission’s school for the local Sudanese community. As the school is associated with the African Inland Church, many of the local pastors were strongly pushing for another Kuwanja ( Arabic for white person ) to be the teacher, or head teacher at the school. As I have been looking at returning into Africa, and knowing my skills as a teacher, Ikotos was heavy on my heart and mind. Much of my prayer life the past year focused on whether the Lord was asking me to join a rural community again in Africa and help start and run this school.
On the 15th of November we flew into Ikotos. We took a small, chartered missionary plane and left Torit. The flight itself was short in duration and allowed me to view the whole of the countryside. Much of this area of the very South Sudan had, at one time, been completely run by the Lord’s Resistance Army of Northern Uganda. So much of the Southern Sudan has been engulfed in two separate and terrible conflicts. The LRA and the Civil War. Many large hills and mountains dotted the area and the beauty of the colors will hopefully be clear in the photos. It was a short, but beautiful flight.
Ikotos is a small town set into the local mountains. We arrived and I stayed in the Tukul hut of Meghan Baird, an AIM short term teacher in Ikotos. Meghan, along with Kelly Miller and Linda Byler, were subjected to my male presence for the better half of four days. And all are still alive and well as I write this letter from Torit. As a guy I had been wrestling with the Lord as to my presence still as a missionary in the Sudan. Torit was home, but I also needed peace in my heart over visiting Ikotos and seeing the school. It was a very unexpected, and to an extent, humiliating confrontation with a power wanting Sudanese security official in Ikotos that reminded me of Christ like humility.
On Saturday, Linda, Kelly, Meghan and I walked to the local, small police district headquarters in Ikotos. We brought our identification papers, the ladies their passports and me the photocopies. The man sat us down, smiled often, then began writing out the passport information in a little, old fashioned notepad book.
No problem, he writes, we smile, we go…on into the day. However, after he wrote down the passport numbers he then looked at the one young man in the audience, me, and his turned red. “ You my friend, where is your passport!”
Passport! I’m thinking, “ My passport, we’ll you got the photocopy right there man, what do you mean?” It was not dawning on me, with all my personal and interpersonal skills ( spiritual gifts anyone ) that he was ticked! But I had done nothing ‘wrong’ so I was struggling with why this man’s blood pressure was becoming clearly evident through his scalp. Along with us the Ikotos head AIC Pastor, Tobiolo came to escort us. Thank the Lord for that development. Soon, the angry Ikotos security official was speaking in Arabic with the local, Ikotos pastor; Reverend Tobiolo is a very Godly man, well respected in Ikotos and was there speaking now on my behalf. The Sudanese police chief finally relented and allowed the three women to go back to the huts and collect my passport.
My emotions. I apologized profusely, was genuinely sorry that now there was a strained relationship in the local area between the police and missionaries. He tried repeatedly to humiliate me, in front of the other four people, and then gave grunted permission for the women to go. “ My friend, if you are lying to me….”
His threats all followed this train of communication. When the ladies left reverend Tobiolo asked for his permission to hear me. For ten minutes I finally expressed everything that he seemed to be accumulating for eight weeks of time in Africa.
“ I am sorry,” I said. “ But I did nothing intentionally wrong, and have also spent one year, praying for the Sudan, praying for HOW the Lord will use me to help rebuild this country! Your country! I have left my family, my schools, my house, my car, everything I knew.!” I continued like this for about five to six minutes and instead of digging myself a hole I seemed to come across finally as a person. I quickly shared my entire life, ( basically ) emphasizing the Lord’s guiding me into the Sudan, my heart for his people and the sacrifice to just come. His eyes looked everywhere but at mine, he at times pointed his pen at my face but always kept quiet. It wasn’t anger, but genuine hurt I felt.
Twenty minutes later the ladies returned, with the passport. The police man took the passport, reopened the book and wrote down the exact same information he had written out earlier. He was surprised to find that I wasn’t eighteen years old!
His entire thinking was that I was not even twenty year old, just a young, punk from the America that needed a good kicking in Sudanese respect. Now. As our Father works this is how the story ended. After writing out the passport information, I started joking with the police officer. Within a few minutes the following things happened: He started to smile, he began laughing, he took my hand and we walked outside together, hand in hand! In Africa culture, men hold hands as comrades and friends, personal touch between men in this way is a strong symbol for friendship. We parted as respected friends. Only God could answer those sweaty, mental prayers for help. Lord willingly, I may again see him.
For how long I had been praying for Ikotos. Now, to be here in person, to meet the local people, pastor, and now headteacher…and to miss the ministry in Torit. That was everything. The local Africa Inland Church leaders strongly pushed Phil Byler to send me, on command almost, to Ikotos. After visiting the area, I am so thankful for God placing me into the heart of the Torit school system, community, and missionary family here. Also, Meghan Baird is doing a wonderful job at the school, learning the Arabic and blending into the community in great ways. The Lord clearly showed that my new ministry and location is the city of Torit. Not the rural, secluded
Finally, I feel confident that the Lord is moving me on. And not only that, but God used the confrontation with the police man, to allow Linda and I to talk, really talk. I was upset, and still unsettled personally from all of the travel and newness and ‘freedom’ everything. That was the greatest blessing of the whole trip. To now be in true fellowship and friendship with the AIM Co-ordinator.
The Bylers and I will be staying together in Torit. Partnering together in Torit. And now, this is finally a home and family to me. God definitely worked ALL these things out for good. It just took patience, praying, roughing up and some small humility pills taking.
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