November 2013 Newsletter

The realization that I’d left the chicken in the trunk overnight came at the same time as the overpowering rush of odors when I opened the car door.  I hastily cleaned out the mess, assuring my roommate that I’d find a home for the chicken later that day.  She, however, was excited about keeping it for eggs, despite my reasoning that it would be easier to walk one block to the nearest mini-store, one of thousands which are found in small shacks every other block in the city, and to pay the 20 cents per egg.  My assent is what led us to attempt to herd the chicken (which had escaped later that same day) back through our gate.  Unfortunately, we’d just picked up pizza, and were running around the street still holding the pizza boxes, while the chicken continuously got the better of us.  It was, I’m sure, quite a sight for the neighbors, who all ended up joining us in our efforts, the only reason that we finally succeeded.  As the chicken ran back through the gate, someone asked, “Are you going to make a soup?” to which I replied, “No, we’re keeping it for the eggs.”  Which only makes the whole neighbor-drawing, chicken-chasing episode more embarrassing, because that evening we discovered it was male.  The next day when I came home and discovered the chicken again strolling down the street, I merely bid it farewell.

Anyone else probably would’ve fought a little harder, chickens being so rare here (most families can afford to eat them only on holidays), which makes the gift of a chicken from someone I’d met just a few hours earlier even more touching.  I’d visited a children’s camp where I used the five colors on a special soccer ball to share the Gospel, and the other teachers at the camp were so excited to hear the Gospel presented so clearly that they had decided to give me the chicken.  They also begged me to train them, something that makes the fact that I so often look foolish here in Burkina Faso (while doing things like chasing chickens) pale in comparison to the opportunities I have to share and help others to share the Gospel.

Unfortunately the reality of life means that more often than not these opportunities are missed.  Most of our teacher trainees have not been able to start clubs for kids.  But God shows me that He is still working and still using my efforts.  At one training, a girl came from several hours away to participate.  After a few days of hearing some of the stories in my classes, she asked, “Wait, did you come to my village seven years ago?”  She proceeded to recount the Bible lesson my team had given on a short-term missions trip in 2006 when she’d been a child and told me this is what had inspired her to be a teacher.  At times like these I can’t wait to see which of the children in my clubs now will have their own clubs some day or will be receiving mischievous chickens from the teachers they’ve trained.  With some of them it’s hard to imagine, but I know God has big, exciting, beautiful plans for them, all to be revealed in His perfect time.