Kneeling at the altar I saw a vision of a hammered blue gate, bolted and locked to solid brown walls that would not budge. I shook the handle, but the gate held. Locked.
Seeing the metal frame before us as a blockade I asked the Lord to unlock the gate so that we might reach the people beyond. I looked up and watched as a dove descended and landed, not on the lock, but on the top hinge of the gate. As the dove landed the gate hinge gave way and it swung noiselessly against the lock revealing a dark-faced man clothed in flowing white clothes.
My immediate response, still moving through the emotions of the last broken down gate in Northeastern Africa, was to scan the man’s body for weapons, but the dove flew between us revealing he was unarmed. He was seeking the Savior. As we stood together, next to the unhinged gate, I watched as the man upturned his head and arms and began to worship Jesus the Messiah! What joy burst through my heart! I watched as a fire descended into his chest and as He opened his mouth in praise a tongue of fire came out that became so large it rose over the nation of Senegal! Amazed I watched as several smaller tongues of fire began to kindle over the city of Dakar.
(Journal Entry from January 19, 2014)
Seven years ago, I began to sketch on canvases for the first time. As part of our recovery process from our painful exit from Northeastern Africa I was trying to explore creative outlets, new ways of worshiping and healing.
After seeing a vision while worshiping at the altar of a church I quickly began to sketch what I’d seen and, with the trepidation and excitement of an amateur, set out to interpret it through brush and paint. I wanted to see beyond the gate, beyond the block, beyond the trauma. Each brushstroke was an intercession, a cry for the unreached peoples of Senegal. I prayed I would see that man in my vision face to face. I dreamed I would walk the sand streets of Dakar and see the gospel passed through his life into souls of men, women and children across Senegal.
As I painted and prayed I could hear Simeon’s prophetic words as he held the baby Jesus, “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you may now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all nations: a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel,” (Luke 2.29-32).
For seven years, from the home in Manassas provided by Chapel Springs Church where I painted it to Dakar, that small canvas prayer has gone with us. From the guesthouse in Colobane where we first arrived and bought a dog to our first home in Guediawaye where we set a new rhythm for family life. From our kids school in Hann
Mariste to my little office in Pattes D’oie, that painting has served as a constant reminder of why we came to Senegal. Its intercession echoed along the bustlings roads of Parcelles Assainies and busy markets of Waxane Nimzatt, reverberating through the deep population in Pikine and Thiaroye; everywhere we turned a gentle call set against a blue sky to believe men, women and children will meet with Jesus.
As is so often the case, life rushes ahead of us. We get lost in the jumble of people wrestling their way through life. You busy yourself with being present in the most important relationships, set up boundaries to safeguard your family, and allow time to speed past in a blur. Dreams and visions become engrained like muscle memory and questions we once thought were so important fade in the rearview mirror of time. When I looked at that painting I stopped asking who that man was and kept interceding for the lost around him.
A Life Inspired
A few weeks ago, my dear friend Benoit came to Dakar. I got to guide him into ministry, first as a teacher at the Bible school and then as a mentor as we planted a new church with a small group of believers left stranded in the wake of a pastor’s moral and spiritual failure. After a year and a half the fellowship of believers had walked through healing and Benoit was ready to be their pastor.
Now, he is the pastor and director of a school in the middle of Senegal. The distance has been heart breaking but I’ve been so proud to see how he and Sophie along with their growing family have sought to take the gospel to the men, women and children around them.
During his visit I shared with him what I felt God was speaking to my heart, that the vision which brought us here to Senegal, was of him. I took that painting off my wall, the painting of him that I’d painted two years before I met him, and gave it to him.
As we sat together, praying and encouraging one another his stories inspired me. I asked his permission to share a few of them with you.
When the nation was hit by coronavirus it was impossible to reach out in their new city. People couldn’t come to church and he couldn’t go to homes to share the gospel. He prayed and one day, while resting and listening to the radio, he thought to call them and see if they would let him have time on the air. They not only gave him time, but gave it to him for free. Multiple times a week his Bible studies are broadcast across the region.
When he started other Christians and even missionaries told him not to share about Jesus. Speak about the stories of the Old Testament, don’t anger people with stories of Jesus. In his gentle way, Benoit responded, “I was not sent here by Abraham or Joseph. I was sent here by Jesus. I will share his story.” That’s when people started to respond.
A Peul nomad brought his demon possessed wife the religious leaders and witchdoctors couldn’t heal. She’d came into their home in a comatose state, rigid and in a trance. Freed in the name of Jesus she walked out in her own strength. The man now calls from his wanderings with his herd and is on his journey toward Christ.
A local imam began rebuking Benoit on his radio show. That was until he began to listen to it. He started to say, this religion of the Christians is truly from God. He started calling Benoit. Now they are talking about Jesus together.
As Benoit sat in our living room he shared how the imam wants to read the Bible but he can only read arabic script. In my office, there were only two books left in Arabic remaining from our time in the Sahara, Glad News! God Loves You My Muslim Friend and my Arabic Bible. I brought them down from the top shelf and gave them to him to lead his searching friend home.
A Life on Purpose
Through the seasons of our lives it is easy to become battle-hardened, to dig down into a trench and claim a space for our calling. But this isn’t the way of Jesus. He calls us to Himself. As we draw near to Jesus, he empowers us and sends out among the orphan, the widow and the stranger. We are not commissioned to build missile silos of apologetic faith ready to decimate and conquer. We are blessed to a blessing, to serve the wounded and the searching as wounded healers who know the way home.
I pray that you would open your eyes to see and your ears to hear what Jesus is saying over your life today. What new vision or new dream does He want to set before you? A new path that brings him glory rather than an old way that has become comfortable and worn. Would you invite the Spirit of Jesus to speak to your soul anew? You may be surprised by what He says.
“May the Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.” (Numbers 6.24-26)
