Planting Seeds

Relaxing in the comfort of a London Cab in Nairobi, we were watching the city lights drift behind as we traveled our final few kilometers to the airport: the end of my annual 90 days in Kenya. This year was so different. My wallet stolen on the flight over, complex people problems, selection of 5 new children for the boy’s Home, struggling financial development, driving challenges in the “bush” were just a few. My 14 year old nephew, Jay, had shared it all. We both sat quietly in reflection until the swerving, squealing tires.
I screamed, “This guy is CRAZY!” Accustomed to the developing world’s public transportation, my usual acute sensitivity to reckless drivers was dulled by the proximity to the airport. The swerving. The curb.
Jay in the seeming distance stated quietly, “We’re gonna roll”.
As if in slow motion, I saw the ceiling of the cab approach my head. “I could die. – No, don’t pass out, you have Jay.” I told myself as the roll completed to the roof and the vehicle continued to skid along the roadside.
Quiet. Dark. “Jay, you OK?” hoping for response. A quiet, in control voice responded, “Yup, should we get out?”
“Is there a way?” my grateful, apprehensive heart responded.
“Yup”, and he led the way. His youthful eyes had spotted a break in the shattered rear windshield. Slight pressure and it gave way leaving a gaping crawl hole. We passed through the fountain of gas pouring from the newly filled tank onto the damp grass and reached safety. Our friend and guide exited the front seat a few minutes later and police captured our escaping driver.
I marvel we are alive. God is so good! It is not my time to go home yet. We are out, alive and with no significant injuries.
“We have to fly.” I told police officers. Incredulous and wonderful, they collected luggage, escorted us to the airport, followed us to take statements, sent airport nursing staff to be sure we were fit to fly and wished us a safe flight. Bumps, bruises and a bit of chest pain, but we did fly.
Settling into our seats, the thoughts begin. Jay dares to say, “Gee, Aunt Beverly, that was sort of fun.”
How does God work in our lives? Earlier, on the way to Nairobi without any foreshadowing, the conversation turned to near death experiences. We shared our near brushes and changed the subject to lunch. Then driving down Haile Selassie on the way to the airport, the conversation drifted to the brevity of life and prompted my standard conversation feeler, “Well, you can be sure you know where you are going when you die.” The conversation died.
The talk of death…the accident. An accident? Fate? Coincidence? Perhaps, but..
My brother is a prominent scientist, an atheist. My niece and nephew have been raised to be loving, generous, kind, honest, sensitive children with no God but nature. My faith strong, but on caution, (I remember my own journey only too well) I desire to love my brother, and his family, to appreciate them for the wonderful special people God made them and be ready to speak when the Spirit prompts and provides open doors and fertile soil.
I shared three wonderful months with my nephew. We lived, worked, slept, got dirty, laughed, shared, grew and even went to church together. Isn’t it like God to bring words and acts together at the last minute?
No, my nephew did not accept Christ as his personal savior. But the ground was made ready and the seed firmly planted.
My trust in God’s ability to move and act in our world to meet His will and answer our prayers, often in unusual ways, was yet again assured. Not only does He have me in His hand, but my nephew, my brother, his family, the boys in our Home, the Home’s financial support struggles, my unemployment, you, your family, your struggles, indeed the Whole World in His Hands. I can be content to plant seeds, knowing God will provide the time and people to water and another to harvest.

1 Corinthians 3:6