responsible irresponsibility: International incidents and divine appointments

The border crossing to Equatorial Guinea is just a few hundred yards away and Gabon’s is three kilometers in the opposite direction. On Monday it was decided that as a team we would go into Guinea and walk to the first city. Turns out, contrary to supposed intergovernmental agreement, the border is ‘closed’ because of economic tensions. (I can only relate what I’m told, much of what I think is conjecture.) ‘However, maybe our host pastor* can use his status to speak with the officials, and for a little money we will be able to cross.’ The border crossing consists of a hut on either side of a small river with one of those barriers in the middle that can be manually raised and lowered to allow vehicles to pass. Okay, two of those barriers, one for each country. And it’s not really a river, but since it’s been raining heavy most days, and that is the low spot there is water flowing there – about twenty feet across and nearly a foot deep in the middle. About 50 yards back on the Cameroonian side are boards stretched across the road with nails driven through which can be pulled out of the way for permitted vehicles (or driven around), but will slow assaulting forces if necessary. There were a couple of enterprising young men there who for a few francs would give piggyback rides across the water for the rare few who wouldn’t wade themselves. They were also willing to pass the tires and other car parts, baskets of fruit, speakers, and other items which appeared to have free access, even when their bearers didn’t. We waited several minutes while the pastor first checked with the Cameroonian officials (no uniforms or obvious identification), then waded to the other side to check with the Guineans (who wore uniforms). He returned awhile later to say that the rest of the group could pass, but no Americans. Okay, we’ll walk to Gabon, but not before we create a stir. While waiting Beth had asked if she could take pictures, to which the obvious answer was ‘no, wait ‘til we are away from the crossing’. (If it’s worth having, it’s worth asking for…) So, when we had moved beyond those assault slowing devices, she was told it would be okay to take pictures. Out came the camera, and out came the police and other ‘officials’, and the crowd of onlookers. After several apologies, yelling, pleas of discretion and empathy, and proof there were no pictures remaining on the camera, an international incident was avoided. Our walk to, and border crossing into Gabon was without incident, and really rather boring. Of course we were much more discreet with the camera. After several minutes we returned to Cameroon and our home away from home, away from home, away from home, away from home.

*The pastor of the church who is hosting us on church property has run this church into the ground and is hoping that we can influence people to come back or bring new people. The theology and leadership are big problems, and since we are non-denominational and don’t represent any church, we are put in an odd position. Beth and I think that a big part of why we are here is that Jonas, through his many discussions with him, may have an influence on the pastor which may bring restoration. Meanwhile our ministry has begun…

We are going out in teams of two or three and making contact with local residents. Some of which we are introduced to, and others we’ve met on our own. Yesterday we were brought to the home of a young couple that another team had met the day before. The woman had seen us in church and asked that Beth, Rebecca, and I (Rebecca left for Garoua this morning) come to meet with her husband, as she felt that we would better be able to relate. After several minutes of witnessing, mostly by Rebecca in French, he accepted Jesus as his savior. Later Beth and I questioned the whole experience, wondering things like; ‘could be that simple, would God work like that in America, or was he just responding to get us out of his home.’ We returned this morning for a follow up and heard a testimony that sounded like a script for an interesting movie: Gang activity, armed robbery, betrayal, bribery of officials, stowing away on a ship to a foreign country, drug running, arrest and imprisonment, and more. It ended with “I said if God brings missionaries to me who do not represent a church tomorrow, I will know it is God speaking to me.” No, he was not trying to get us out of his home (in fact ‘the door is open to us any time’), and it can be that simple, and God can do that anywhere. He is good, and His plans look a lot better than mine.