Broken Hearts and Open Doors

Just got back from a monthly dinner at my church. The incidental part was that we had yummy ice cream and I sang with Billy to lead God's people in worship.

The amazing part was the missionaries that spoke to us about a recent trip to Rwanda.

A young woman from our church named Tammy went with e3 Ministries in June. So, tonight, she got a chance to show a DVD with pictures and video clips, as well as to talk about the trip and the ministry that they did and that they experienced.

Her recurring theme was, "that just made my heart melt." Whether it was the passionate nationals who were praying for her to have a son (they were shocked that she was married without kids, and didn't really understand that it was by choice) or the young African boy who took such joy in daily carrying her backpack down the mountain, Tammy was overwhelmed with gratitude to the people who showed her God's love so deeply.

And then, the full-time mission workers spoke.  Parts of their talk were statistics.  Heart-breaking, gut wrenching statistics - the number of households run by 11-year-olds, the number of orphans, the number of deaths.  And also amazing, God glorifying statistics - the number of converts and church plants.

One thing that I thought was a riot was what this missionary told us the purpose of American trips was.  It was not so we could waltz in there and tell news that no African knew; it was so that we could provide opportunities and avenues for nationals to share the gospel in places they can't get into on their own.

Apparently, white skin is welcome anywhere.  So, often, the Americans act just as a way to open the door for the Africans to have a platform to speak from.  Africans are ready and raring to get the gospel to their countrymen.  And we can help them just by being white.

Of course, after hearing from these missionaries, my heart is re-broken for the little boys that I met in Jamaica 3 years ago.  I'm praying tonight for Glenton Smith, Lynval Campbell and Jerome Davis.