We were told to bring things from America that would help get these ministries started. I told my friends and family that if they wanted to donate things, I would take them in my luggage. The oddest thing was donated: A large, HEAVY, old accordion--trimmed in mother-of-pearl. (Uh, sure---that'll fit in a suitcase and won't be heavy at ALL!)
I went to my doctor and got all the shots, malaria pills, etc. that were necessary for the trip. I was packed and ready to go.
On the plane, one of the women in charge came around to each one of us, asking what gifts of the Spirit we most often minister in. Hmmmm. "Teaching." That was all I could think to say. I figured all the other missionaries were teachers so I surely wouldn't be speaking and would be available to pray and assist all the others.
Wrong.
I was soon scheduled to teach a workshop on Spiritual Warfare. Really?? How am I to teach that, exactly? I prayed. (I worried.) I agreed. Our team had been fasting and praying--so I figured I was as ready as ever to address these African women.
Wrong, again.
The malaria medicine I was taking upset my empty stomach, so I ate a banana. I had been bitten by a spider during the night and had a red-line of blood poisoning running up my arm. I was weak and sick. "And our speaker on Spiritual Warfare is Ms. Marcie!"
"Thank you very much," I said, as I took the microphone and started talking about freedom in Christ. Suddenly, the room felt like it was moving. I leaned against the wall behind me and pulled the table closer that was in front of me -- so I was pinned to the wall. I kept talking from my notes.
Next thing I know, I am being carried out of the room like a flour-sack by four Nigerian men who are telling me "Sister Marcie!! The devil is a liar!" Seems they knew more about this than I ! haha (My apologies to the lovely Nigerian gentleman who tolerated me barfing banana on his shoes...) A friend of mine, my Mother-in-the-Lord (Martha Knox--who should have been teaching, anyway!!), finished the seminar for me.
I love God's sense of humor.
At the next meeting, a man said, "Are you the lady with the accordion?" "Yes." "We have a musician who has been praying for an accordion. Does it have pearl trim?" (Are you kidding me right now??)
You see from the photo (below) that the accordion was given to the man who had been praying. I was just the delivery person. Now, the trip began to make more sense. An expensive hand-delivery--but WOW--I just got to see that!
We went to different cities, speaking in churches and groups and I saw worship like I have never seen before.
I didn't rock the nation with my awesomeness (DUH!). I was rocked by theirs. I saw expressions of God's love 'to the one'... as in the experience of delivering the accordion. It was my privilege to love on all those people. I didn't want to speak at meetings; I wanted to touch.
Another night, I was sick in my hotel room and could hear a song playing from down in the alley: Dolly Parton singing "I Will Always Love You". (Really? I am in Africa and I need to hear THIS??)
I went on this trip to be a helper. A delivery person of gifts. An observer. I came home with a full heart--loving a nation that, before that trip, I had never known anything about.
Nigeria. "I Will Always Love You"
"Ask of me, and I will give you the nations as your inheritance, the ends of the earth as your possession." Psalm 2: 8
(Below: Me, teaching... before I fainted and was carried out of the room!)
Love,
Marcie Elliott-Smith
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