La Dolce Veda: Ministers and Africans

What a funny title. And yet, really, there is no other title that I can use. For this was the weekend I became a Stephen Minister, and also the weekend the Congo team (of which my husband is a part) held their fundraising lunch at church.

It began at 5:45 on Friday evening. As I drove to my last weekend of training for Stephen Ministries, I found myself getting a little emotional. I wondered if, after this weekend, things would be different. There are (were) 12 of us in training. We've become rather close over these last 4 months. We've had meals together, role-played, laughed, cried, shared stories, and asked questions. We have become a team. A team of willing followers of Christ, who are ready to listen, share, and minister to those whom God brings into our lives. We do not take this lightly. We're concerned we may fail the very ones we seek to help. However, I believe that our hearts are right before God. And I also believe that He will use us in a mighty way.

And so, after another long day on Saturday of our last 8 1/2 hours of training, with tears in our eyes, we said our goodbyes. Until Sunday morning, that was. However, my day did not end at 5:00 that Saturday. No, my day was to continue on for a few more hours. My husband needed me. He was setting up for a huge lunch to be held the next day after church. The entire congregation (all 200 of us) was invited. Three African families (from our church body) had volunteered to cook all the foods from their native countries, and all we (the team and their willing and very hard-working spouses) had to do was set up tables and chop, chop, chop. Late that afternoon, I walked into our little church kitchen and rolled up my sleeves. With a headache, sore feet, and an aching back, I began to chop cabbage. Some of you know me--I am a type A personality and quite the crazy person. I am organized and fast. I see the job/problem, and I get the job done.

Chop, chop. However, that is not the African way — as was so kindly pointed out to me. No, their way is to visit, to talk, to slice, and with every slice/chop, a prayer is said for the person who will be eating that dish. What? Slice and pray? Why will that take hours! My brain almost exploded. I remained calm, though — OK, calm for me. And I sliced and chopped and talked until I thought my back would break from standing and talking and slicing and chopping; however, I learned about Africa and its ways of doing things. And I made new friends. I did it for my husband, his team, and my new African friends. And I tried hard not to think about my food processor sitting in my pantry at home. Really, I did try.

Later that night as we sat at dinner with friends (a very late dinner I might add) we laughed at my naivety. And the next day, I'm glad that we had that laugh. But first, back to Stephen Ministries.
When I got to church Sunday morning, all ready to be commissioned as a trained Stephen Minister, I noticed that I was nervous. I began to pray that God would calm my anxiety. I wanted to really enjoy the service. And He did calm me down, a calmness settled over me, and I was fine, I didn't even cry as our pastor prayed over us. It was a solemn and somewhat formal service. A reminder of the seriousness of what we are about to undertake, it was wonderful.

Right after the sermon, I scooted out to help my husband with the lunch. The tables were all set, the decorations were in place, the African women were setting out the food, the men were grilling, and there was loads of excitement in the air. I wondered and prayed the entire time — how much in donations for this mission trip, this team of 3 — how much would they collect today?

The lunch was fabulous — if I do say so myself. For one thing, the food smelled amazing. I can't pronounce, let alone spell, the many dishes those 3 families prepared, but let me tell you something — they were delicious. There was rice, beans, chicken, and goat. Yes, I just said goat. There were soups and salads, and all types of beautiful fruits. At each table, we set out bookmarks to remind others to pray for this team. During lunch, a video was played, and afterward, the 3 team members spoke concerning their calling to the Congo. I don't know about the others in the room, but my eyes did not remain dry.

After lunch and after everyone had gone home, several of us stayed to clean up. And do you think for one minute that those 3 families from Africa, who worked all week cooking for the Congo team, left and went home? No, they did not. There they were--cleaning, washing dishes, pots, and pans, and making up plates of leftover food for others to take home. They were scrubbing counters and floors, and all the while--just as they do while chopping and slicing--they were talking, visiting, and smiling. I can't help it--I love them. Those sweet ladies whom I now call my friends. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have taught me, through all this, how to relax, enjoy, and savor friendship.

When I got home later that afternoon, I sat down in my chair and cried. I cried the bottled-up tears of a new Stephen Minister. I cried the bottled-up tears of a wife whose husband is about to go on the most exciting mission trip ever. And I thanked God for blessing us with awesome friends — who've donated time, money, skills, and prayer — so that my husband and I could be blessed by God.

It is only April. And already this is the best year of my life. I have seen God work in miraculous ways before, so this is not new to me. However, in saying that — please understand — we've only been going to this little church of ours for about one year now. And yet they have accepted us into their church family, into their hearts, and into their lives. We are two very grateful and thankful people. Yes, this new Stephen Minister, and this man bound for Congo--we are overwhelmed by the goodness of our God. Thank you for praying...