2 Timothy
1:7 Good
News Translation
7 For the Spirit that God has given us
does not make us timid; instead, his Spirit fills us with power, love, and
self-control.
We were on our way to teach at Ikizu in Tanzania. We had
been waiting in Zambia for ten weeks for a work permit to enter Tanzania.
Finally, we got word that the work permit had been issued, and I could pick it
up in Livingstone. Not accustomed to the ways of Africa, I took just enough
money for the train to and from Livingstone.
I went into the consul’s office and handed the consul our
passports and requested the permit. He took them and said, “Come back at 4:00,
and I’ll give them to you!” I encouraged him briefly to do it now, to no avail.
I wandered around the small town of Livingstone all day and
showed up at the consul’s office at 3:45—they closed at 4:00. He looked at me
and said, “I’m sorry. I can’t get it today! You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
I had flaming red hair in those days and was tempted to give him piece of my
mind. But the Spirit urged me to practice self-control.
One straight-backed chair stood over against a wall. I
walked over to it and sat down. I looked around the large nearly empty room.
The consul’s old wooden desk occupied the back-center of the room and this
chair along one side—nothing else.
At 3:55 a South African Truck driver walked in and asked for
his permit to enter Zambia. The consul rifled through a small pile of papers
stacked neatly on the left side of his desk. He pulled out one of them, looked at
it, and announced, “I’m sorry, it’s not ready yet; come in tomorrow!”
The driver remonstrated with him. “I have been told this for
two weeks now. The materials I have are needed up north!” But the consul
dismissed him.
I understood. He was waiting for a bribe. I had no bribe. I
barely had enough money to buy a train ticket back to Monze. I sat there
quietly. I knew that the recent colonial regime had made people wait
interminably. The consul was merely doing what he had undoubtedly seen done in
the past.
I prayed silently and sat upright. The consul sat upright,
too. He did nothing. He evidently was aware of me, but he did not look my way.
I was amazed and thankful that he hadn’t chased me out. After 4:30—and well
past closing time, the consul, picked up his phone, dialed, and in due course
said, “What is that number for Clarke?” I heard no reply. “Thank you!” He
reached down into the neat pile and drew out our passports. He opened each one,
wrote down a number, and stamped each a couple times. Looking at me, he smiled,
“Here are your passports!”
I stood up, walked unhurriedly across the room, and took the
proffered passports. “Thank you very much, sir!” I said—and meant it. With
passports in hand, I walked straight out the door without a backward glance,
fearing lest he might change his mind and call me back.
Thank You, Lord, for giving me the power, love, and
self-control I needed at that time. And thanks for changing the consul’s heart!
No comments:
Post a Comment