Do you see me in this photograph? Of course not! I make it a habit not frequent rooms with needles;

except when in dire need, which was  yesterday.

I knew it needed to happen, I needed to get my yellow card stamped. And they don’t stamp a Yellow Fever immunization card without first sticking it to you, literally! I was neither “happy”, nor do I feel “healthy” today.

I am proud to say, however, that my yellow card is officially stamped. Rwanda, I am on my way!

On second thought, I should have asked Ms. Doe to lend me hers.

If you would like to reward my bravery, donate here!

When is the last time you’ve had the joy of encountering the point of a needle? Comment below with your story.

It was then that the unexpected came. After Bishop Kolini had finished, I stood back. There were so many wanting to meet him. But Ken saw us and motioned for us forward. I was hopefully apprehensive.

Before I could squeak out anything but “hi”, I was wrapped in a giant, teddy bear hug from the right as I awkwardly attempted to shake his hand with my left. I knew I was welcome in his presence. He liked having me there.

Let’s go back a few minutes, to the last of Bishop’s sharing… In anticipation of the possibility of meeting the bishop I had wracked my brain for a question to ask. I wanted to have an actual conversation, not just exchange greetings. If I were honest, I’d say Father must have dropped the question into my mind. He knew exactly what was about to take place.

“You said that at one point you had been asking God ten questions. I wouldn’t presume to ask you what those questions were, but I would like to know:

What questions would you,

as our Bishop,

like us to be asking God?”

That was my question. Pretty good, huh? I thought so. But he didn’t actually answer it (and you won’t hear me complaining!).

Bishop took my hands in his and looked genuinely into my eyes as he spoke.

Words of life, words of hope, words of vision from Father into the depths of me.

…

“In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord…And he touched my mouth…And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’ Then I said, ‘Here am I! Send me.’ ”
…

It was a chronicle of the season I’ve been walking in for months (and evidently will continue to walk in the days to come). It was a glimpse at the horizon of my destiny. Amidst the grieving of this season of life, God Almighty has opened my eyes to see Him. He is cleansing and releasing the voice He placed in me. And He will send me with a story to tell.

It was, what I thought to be, an ordinary Wednesday. It was anything but ordinary. This particular day would prove to hold a defining moment for me. It was the day I met Archbishop Emanuel Kolini, an anointed man of God, incredibly tender-hearted and immensely strong. He traveled from his home in Rwanda to be with us, a ragged people, gathered under the wing of the Anglican Mission.

Bishop Kolini spoke of suffering, wealth, joy and idols in his beautiful Rwandan accent. I was hungry for the wisdom that seemed to emanate from him like dripping honey. At one point he expressed his heart of utter surrender to God, saying,

“I will go through valleys and up

mountains to obey you.

Beyond them there is joy.”

I knew these weren’t just words, they were words of knowing. Bishop Kolini admonished us to live in a posture that brings us to cry out,

“Lord, when I am enjoying

wealth

let me not abandon you!”

He spoke of the idols of American culture: sexuality, the intellect, and our heart of stone.  I took in his words like they were air. He spoke such refreshing truth, drawing our eyes to the face of God. But it was only the beginning.