I had Pastor G. on my heart the whole day.
Not really sure why except that I knew I was supposed to pray for him and his family. This particular brother was experiencing some difficulties in his church as well as in his family. As I prayed the thought kept coming to me: "you need to help him financially." Normally, I'm reluctant to help African pastors directly only because I don't want to be considered the new found source for funding. I have found that direct contributions have ruined many a good relationship. Rather, I usually find an intermediary. And work through the system in place on the ground.
This was different though. There was an urgency to what I was feeling in my heart. I knew I had to do something and do it now.
As I pondered how to do it, the impression came strongly, "$300." I reeled. This was a lot of money for me, let alone for an African pastor living in one of the poorest countries on planet earth. I decided to talk myself out of it. "No, it can't be $300. That's way too much money. He would see me as a cash cow from here on out." I laughed at the ridiculous nature of my thought. "$300. Yeah right."
The thought came even stronger. "$300. Give it to him tonight at Bible school and in US cash."
"What? Tonight?"
How would I be able to give him $300 with so many other students around. And why US cash? I never gave people US cash. This would be even more problematic than handing them local currency. I continued my preparations for the course I was teaching that night to the Bible school students.
As the time approached to teach, I went into my office and found 3 one hundred dollar bills. I silently prayed, "Lord you will have to show me how to get alone with this brother." Handing out money, any money, but especially that kind of money, to just one person in a classroom of pastors could destroy relationships, foster jealousy, create the wrong impressions, etc..
The schedule called for a 3 hour block course. I made it through the first half and then gave the students a break. I went into another class room to clear my head from French theological terms. In walked Pastor G. and his wife, also a student: "Missionaire?"
"Yes."
He wanted to talk. Something was clearly bothering him and he needed encouragement.
"Umm.. before you say anything I need to give you something," I fumbled for words.
"I know this is highly unusual, but.... well.... I've been praying for you and feel like I'm supposed to give you this."
I handed him the envelope.
"What is it?" he asked in astonishment.
"A little contribution." I whispered trying not to attract attention.
"What kind of a contribution?" he pressed.
"Tell him," I felt in my heart.
"It's $300."
He exploded into tears. And I mean exploded. His wife began weeping too. They took my hand and started praising God in loud voices. It was sheer glory pandemonium. After some time, he opened up his little notebook that he used for taking notes. He pointed to a certain entry on a particular page. It read, "$300 in US cash."
"What is this?" I asked.
"We have been praying and fasting telling God that if He really wants us to stay in ministry and keep serving Him we have to have $300 in US cash to pay an outstanding bill. We asked him to have it by a certain date otherwise we would resign."
"Today?" I asked.
"Today."
We cried together. It was one of the most tangible answers to prayer and obedience that I have ever witnessed. We are still close friends to this day. He stayed in the ministry and has a thriving church from which he has planted several others.
Obedience to His voice, even when it seems unorthodox or crazy, is always rewarded. While it is true that we aren't responsible for results, sometimes He shows us the results of our obedience on this side of heaven. On that final day He will show us ALL of the results of our obedience. There will be so many tears of joy and thanksgiving that we will wonder why we ever hesitated.
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