My Kenyan Stalker

My dad preached at the Oswego RPC this morning, so my mom and I went, and I brought my photo album from Uganda to share with them. We had wonderful fellowship at the Plummer's house (and amazing food - she used to run her own Italian restaurant!). A lot of people asked me why I was interested specifically in East Africa. I gave them vague responses about my involvement with Project Okello at Grove City, a group which raises awareness about the use of child soldiers in East Africa. But WHY was I drawn to Okello in the first place?

During my senior year of high school I took several community college classes. I overheard someone say the library had four floors, so one day I decided to take the elevator up to the very top. There was no one there. I looked around and found myself a desk which made me completely invisible to anyone who might come in, and got cracking on my reading.

I hear the elevator ding. I ignore it. Then an African man with a thick accent turns the corner, walks straight toward me and says, "The Lord told me to talk to you. Can I sit down?" This is weird, I think, but I invite him to sit.

Now, let me clarify. Up to this point the extent of my exposure to Africa were the images of starving kids with flies on their faces you see on Save the Children commercials. Africa (and the Third World in general) was completely off my radar screen.

This man introduces himself as Ernest, a Kenyan refugee. Some of his family had been killed there; he and his brother managed to save enough money to go to community college in Rochester, of all places. We talk about our faith. Then he very bluntly says, "I had a dream that I would meet someone here who would become a missionary to East Africa." Later on he would email me telling me that he had prophesied about my work in Africa. Now, being Reformed, I took all this with a grain of salt. And he certainly had ulterior motives - he basically proposed to me that very day, and every other time we passed in the hallways. He really became a stalker and I spent my last few months there hiding in hallways and sneaking around corners to avoid him.

Nevertheless, whatever really happened that day, God's hand was on our meeting. Ernest's stories opened my eyes for the first time to the realities of the suffering in East Africa, specifically, and a seed was planted. So when I arrived at Grove City College the next year and wandered around the IM room during the Organizational Fair, Project Okello caught my eye. If I hadn't talked to Ernest, I wouldn't have given Okello a second glance. If I hadn't joined Okello, I wouldn't have learned so many lessons about the unbelievable power of prayer, and I wouldn't have learned about Uganda, and I wouldn't have gone to Karamoja, and right now I'd probably be a librarian, with not even a thought for missions work. So, God's hand was mightily at work every step of the way. Consider your conversations! They just might be the seed of real change in someone's life!