For those of you who read the blog about our annual report at our organization’s conference (the report that Micah “wrote” and we read in front of the group), you may have been urged to pray for us with regard to joy. Those of you who prayed as such, we sincerely thank you and now ask you to celebrate with us God’s quick response. For truly, the prodigal joy has returned into our hearts. Rejoice with us as I share this chapter in the story of God’s faithfulness.
After all the delays in setting up the official church partnerships, the renewal of our work permit and some temporary unrest in our home area among the Gmz, we finally returned to Gesas last week Thursday, April 7th. Wanting to jump into work on Friday, wisdom got the better of me and I instead took the long weekend to pray, plan and write letters of invitation to six Gmz guys whom I have worked with in the past. The invitation basically said that we would be in Gesas for only two and a half weeks, but that I wanted to jump into full time translation during that time. I said I would be in the new translation office at the back of the church building Monday through Friday from 8:30am-noon and the door would be open for them to join me.
Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. After all the discouraging delays, I was preparing myself for four long hours of a thumb-twiddling Monday morning (since I can’t do Bible translation without them). Plus, the Gmz culture is not time-based and these guys certainly are not used to a five-day-a-week desk job. In addition, I had written the letters in my best attempt at the Gmz language, somewhat as a test and practice for their reading and comprehension skills (which are of course useful in translation). Did my message even get communicated properly? Time would tell. Sunday afternoon, I took a couple hours to organize the new translation office, which had previously just been a storage room for grain. As I pushed the 100 kilogram (that’s, 220 lbs each) sacks of grain into one corner of the room, I prayed for strength and sharpness of mind for all those involved in the translation. As I swept out the spilled grain, dust, and piles of bat and rat feces, I prayed for clean hearts and humility toward each other, the text of Scripture and the Spirit’s leading. As I fixed the padlock on the door, I prayed that God would not allow our adversary to enter and further delay nor derail the process. If there was one thing I have learned in the discouraging months leading up to this, it was that I AM NOT AT ALL IN CONTROL! If, in fact, Scripture is EVER translated into the Gmz language of Metekel Zone, it will not be my doing, but rather because the Spirit of God allowed it to be done. And so, on the eve of its birth, this project was committed into the rightful hands of the One ultimately in control.
I woke up early Monday morning and attempted to suppress my excitement with pessimism, the combination of which only left me with nervousness. I tried to eat some breakfast, but found no room for food in among the butterflies busily fluttering around in there. As the big hand started its decent into the eighth hour of this new day, I slowly began gathering my things together: my work computer with an extra battery (there is no power in the translation office yet), the computer mouse, white board, markers… I nonchalantly took an opportunity to peek out our front window up toward the translation office. Nobody yet. Bibles (Amharic, English and Greek), voice recorder, water and 7 cups (which are actually empty yogurt containers)… I glanced up again. Nobody. “Ridiculous,” I thought to myself, “Who would show up for work 30 minutes early, especially in this culture?” Knowing that the office was void of any furniture I headed out to our back porch to grab a plastic table. As I passed by our bedroom, I glanced through the doorway up at the clock on the wall – 8:10. I continued out the front door and after placing the table on the ground, I slowly dusted its surface. Another hopeful glance up the hill toward the translation office and then back inside to collect some chairs. Grabbing my first load of chairs, I boomeranged a glance off the bedroom wall clock and scolded myself, “You still have fifteen minutes before you have any right to be discouraged!” But all thoughts of discouragement faded as my ears picked up the growing sound of voices…familiar voices. Exiting the front door, I looked up the hill to see five of the six guys I had invited headed straight toward my house, joking and laughing with each other. At that moment, the butterflies of nervousness escaped to who knows where and the joyless drought my life had been experiencing for some time began to feel its first sprinkles from above. “Praise God!” I thought, “Not only did my letter communicate, and not only did these guys come, but they came EARLY…ready to get started on what I whole-heartedly believe will be a life changing journey for us all!”
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