The Y family

By Pastor Steve Nute

 

The smell of those shish kebabs bobs was delightful; the taste was better than the smell. Karen had succeeded in doing gourmet for us. She had even toiled to peel cukes and carrots so we could eat our first raw veggies in two weeks.

After dinner, we sat and watched a National Geographic video, “The Land of the Tigers”, that Tom had gotten in Onitsha. With our eyes comfortably settled below window level, and our speech just plain old American, we escaped for a time the pressure and aloneness of Nigeria.

I will always remember this time with Tom and Karen Y and their two perpetual motion sons, Landon and Jonathan. They went out of their way to make our time there and enjoyable one. 

Tom had come to Nigeria a few years before to participate in a crusade ministry such as we were involved in now. Traveling back to America, he must have forgotten the hard times and had a vision of the overpowering need. As a result, this amazing man brought his wife and two sons to serve for two years as Instructor and Principal at International Bible Academy.

The heat, oppressive at all times, was enough to make the most alert mind droop. But somehow Tom kept his hermeneutics class not only awake, but interested. 

As I sat there and listened to his method of interpretation, I confess that my heart was filled with gratitude to our Father for sending this man. The concept, which I believe to be correct, of an historical, grammatical, contextual and logical approach to scripture, was new to these students. I could see that, were he to be enabled to stay, his work would have far reaching impact on the Academy and its mission in the land.

Next to Tom’s much needed gift of teaching is Karen’s unobtrusive witness to her neighbors. She and the boys have set out to show Jesus Christ in their village. One older man came to their door before we left and presented Karen with some yams. He smiled and said, “We like you in this village, your children play with our children.”

Tom also preaches when time permits. I was privileged to hear a message that had been taped for television and was impressed. Doc was rather impressed at his knowledge and handling of the scripture as well. 

The struggles involved in adjusting to a culture totally alien to their own would weigh the Y’s down, but I pray that God will allow them to continue to adjust.

Think of having to relearn everything you know about housework. Begin by daily trips to the market if you want beef, spend hours beating the dirt out of your clothes by hand, and you’ve only begun. Preparing meals is a time consuming task, especially if you used to have a cuisinart. Everything is done by hand and tedious care is needed to get the rice free from foreign objects. 

Think about having to forego hamburgers, chips and real pizza for two years. Reflect on French fries being a rarity. Imagine not being able to ever eat bacon. Think of no tacos, burritos, real steaks, fresh salads or ice cream. That is only a small bit of the deprivation of these folks.

The real hardship comes with faulty communication, poor phone systems, random power and very little contact with other Americans. The difficulties may be pressing and no one there can understand your plight. No one can know why you never feel clean, or free, or able to enjoy privacy. 

But Tom and Karen have someone who cares, besides loving friends and family. They have a direct connection to with the Lord Jesus. It is on Him they lean and of Him they teach. Tom and Karen, carry on. Lean on Him and never look back. God bless you.

“She’ll cry,” I said as Doc phoned from our room in the hotel Sheraton to order Karen a pizza. Sure enough, I was right, she did cry as we all sat there and watched as room service wheeled in a reasonable facsimile of that favorite American treat. 

Doc had decided that he wanted to “treat us all to Sheraton”. That Wednesday night will long be remembered as Tom and Karen felt clean for the first time in months. It will be remembered, too for the American type cuisine they could eat. But most of all, it will be remembered because it was our last night with them, and a good friendship would take a different position. 

Also that night will be remembered because on CNN in Lagos, Nigeria, we all sat and watched as our country concluded the Gulf War. The timing was great. The Y’s could go back to Awka knowing the war was done. They could go back rested and refreshed by Doc’s kindness. And they could go back with a piece of our hearts, lives and prayers.

God, please bless Tom and Karen and their two young sons. Do your best to draw them close to yourself and cause them to be fruitful as they serve you. Please, Lord, encourage them and keep them safe as they do a great work there for you. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

*Afterword… This family came home from Nigeria, were refreshed and then went to Albania just prior to the strife there. They were there and faithful. Now they are stateside for a time doing what they have always done, serving well. (also a 3rd child has come along)

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Interlude RAIN

As the humidity crept ever upward, keeping step with a soaring temperature, Ephraim told us what we already had guessed. Rain would come tonight.

We stood on the edge of the railed porch and watched a few large drops disturb the powder dry compound dust. Then we watched in wonder as literally tons of water poured out of that African sky.

I have weathered many storms in my day, and even have waked up to a tornado. Believe me, the torrents of rain that fell that night equaled anything from my past experience.

I guess that I might have preferred a gentle, soaking rain that would magically carpet the parched earth with fresh greenery. I really thought that Africa was going to be washed into the distant sea that night. But the one who made the rain also made it suited to the terrain, and the next day, freshly scrubbed banana trees and newly washed mangoes shone brightly from well watered berths.

It only rained two times like that while we were there, but Ephraim told us that the rainy season was on its way, and this would be a daily occurrence.

Rain crosses my mind once more as I sit in my well lighted office with my copious supply of books, working phone, *electric typewriter and pictures of my bride. Rain crossed my mind because God has so richly blessed me and mine that I cannot help but sing that old Hymn, “Showers of Blessing”.

God, thank you for the way you rain on us. Thank you for those mercy drops and those blessings. Lord, may we take that rain and dig channels to irrigate the rest of your fields. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

* How far we have come from the day I wrote that to now. Several computers later I can send this halfway round the world in less time than it takes to tell.