the gift of Gab

"I'm getting the word frantic for someone in the room," she said.

Oh sure, that could be anyone. Whose life isn't frantic these days?

"Frantic and a complete lack of peace. Somehow it's connected to allergies. This person may not have even put these two together yet."

How could she possibly know that? I'd been trying to put up such a brave front - showing the world I had it all together. I was trying to show I knew what I was doing, full of confidence. Inside, I was falling apart. And physically, I was in more pain that I could remember being in for a very long time - maybe ever. So much pain. Some days my eyes were hot with tears that I was trying to hide. The pain on the outside matched the intensity of the pain on the inside. It had been getting progressively worse for weeks.

"Frantic....allergies."

How could she know? I know she has the gift of knowledge, but still. How could she know that?

I tried to become invisible in my chair. No one could know. People I knew were in the room. What would they think? Would they feel sorry for me in my weakness? Would they mock me for it? Believe it was real?

"Come forward. Let us pray for you. Let us pray for peace in your heart and healing in your body."

I've requested prayer for healing for my body more times than I can count. What was the use? How would this be any different? I willed myself to be glued into my chair.

"Come forward. If you have pain we want to pray for you."

My body left the chair. I felt compelled. It certainly wasn't of my own volition.

"How can we pray for you?" her husband asked.

"I'm the frantic one," I whispered as the tears began to fall. "I've had an illness for the past 37 years. It's very closely tied in to diet and could easily be viewed as allergies. And I'm so tired of it. I'm just so tired."

As she began to pray for the peace I longed for, I felt the warmth of her hands coursing through me. She prayed for peace and spiritual healing as well as physical healing. And she continued to hold me as she prayed.

I went back to my seat. Tears continued down my cheeks. I was still in pain. Maybe this would turn out to be like all the other experiences. Had anything changed?

Afterward I was speaking with the woman who had prayed over me and I noticed my headache starting to abate. I was smiling as I spoke.

The next morning I awoke pain free and with a light heart! The light-heartedness and peace lasted all day. Praise God!! Some pain is back, but not as bad as before. I know that God is working in my heart and in my body. I don't know if this is the final answer, but I know I have God's peace for what lies ahead. And I choose to believe that He is healing me: now, tomorrow, and always.

Glory be to Him alone!

Posted by Gabi at 6:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I first met Kennedy after another long day in the city where I had once again been unsuccessful in most of my endeavors. And I was in a foul mood.

I was on my way home and peeved that I had to make yet another stop. Why couldn't there be fast food drive-thrus like the "civilized" country I had come from? As I gathered my purse, cell phone, and list, Kennedy approached my car. I had already shooed away the men selling socket wrenches, DVDs and talk time. I didn't have time to deal with this kid too. I'd always managed to dodge him before. This time though, he was there before I even got out of the car.

"Madam, ground nuts?" he asked in a nearly inaudible voice.

"No, I don't want any."

"Only 5000, madam." I did the math in my head. That was about a buck for what looked like 3-4 pounds of peanuts.

"No, I don't want any," I repeated a bit more sternly.

"Madam. Please." He said it with such a sad, pathetic look on his face.

"No, I'm allergic to ground nuts." That wasn't really true. Just intolerant, not allergic. And I don't really like them anyway. Thinking I was safe, I stormed off into the Castle Supermarket.

It was nearly dark when I reemerged loaded down with groceries. In a country where the average worker earns 10,000 ZMK per day, I'm sure I had just spent 100,000 ZMK ($20) without a second thought.

I had already reversed my car out of the parking space when he showed up at my open window.

"Please, madam, I need money to buy notebooks for school."

I groaned inwardly, but something tugged at my heart. Was it his raggedy clothes? Was it the fact that it was nearly dark and he was still trying to sell me something? Or was it the defeated look in his eyes? Maybe it was the former teacher in me.

Whatever the reason, I pulled out a 5,000 ZMK note. I told him I still didn't want any ground nuts and made him promise me he would only use it to buy notebooks. I saw him bounding into the store as I drove away, skeptically believing that he would probably use it for sweets or a fizzy drink instead.

Last evening, I was refueling my vehicle at the BP station next to Castle. I was going through the normal routine with the vendors and beggars. "No, I don't want any DVDs. No, I don't want any socket wrenches, drill bits, umbrellas, socks, or talk time."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a boy with a bag of ground nuts. It was the same kid. Was I really going to have to tell him again that I'm "allergic" to peanuts?

Instead, he surprised me. "Madam," he said in a strong clear voice, "I just wanted to thank you. You gave me 5,000 to buy notebooks for school."

"And did you?"

"Oh, yes, Madam," he smiled a big beautiful and heartfelt smile.

It turns out that Kennedy is in grade 7 and is thirteen years old. He didn't ask for anything else. He simply said, "Thank you."

His graciousness and his gratefulness have touched me to the core. I am so blessed, yet how often do I stop simply to say "Thank you," and expect nothing more? How often do I take for granted the things I do have and complain when I don't have all I want (not what I need)?

Lord, may I never take for granted the many unearned and undeserved blessings you have given me. May I never become so hardened that I "forget" those who have so little.

Posted by Gabi at 11:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

OK, this is really more of an electronics lesson, but also a PSA.

Do not plug a 110V surge protector into a 220V outlet.

It explodes.

Everything else attached to that outlet shuts down and the fuse requires replacing.

Posted by Gabi at 1:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Running errands in town is terribly time-consuming and often very frustrating. I'll use last Thursday and Friday as an example.
Our director Bryan made reservations to fly back to Arizona for a brief visit. Airline reservations cannot be made on the internet in much of Africa. My understanding is that it is due to the high number of fraudulent uses of credit cards. So after finally getting ahold of someone in the British Airways office and securing a reservation, I had to go out to pay for it at a local bank. Only 2 branches in Lusaka accept those payments (of course, they're on the other side of town). On Thursday morning, Bryan's wife wanted to pay with a credit card, but they only accept cash. On Thursday afternoon, I went to one of those branches with US Dollars. I stood in line for 15-20 minutes, filled out the deposit form (with 5 carbon copies), handed over my $100 bills and found out that they did not have the $26 in change that I would require. They told me I could go to the other branch which was very nearby.
I stood in line again for another 20 minutes. Filled out another deposit slip (5 carbon copies again), and handed over my $100 bills. They did have the change. But one of my bills had a small tear in it so they wouldn't accept it. I tried to reason with the teller. No. I asked to speak to the manager and went round and round with her. The response was still no. She explained that they would have to sell it for a lower value on the foreign exchange market. I tried to reason, I argued, but all to no avail. After more than an hour of trying to pay for the ticket, I went home empty handed.
The next morning, I picked up Bryan and we went back to the bank with a new $100 bill. After another 20 minutes, we had finally paid for the ticket. The teller said he would fax the deposit slip to the airlines which would confirm the reservation. I got a call the following Tuesday from the airline requesting that I fax them a copy of the receipt. Things simply move at a different pace here and expectations of customers are much different than those in the US. I'll get used to it.

Feel free to pray for me.

Posted by Gabi at 11:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)