The heart of Africa

A couple of long flights, followed by heat and dust and the voices of peddlers trying to get my attention, wasn’t exactly what had come to mind when I had thought of a trip to Africa. There was a lot of cultural shock that I had had no intention of encountering. I guess it was God’s way of saying, “Welcome to a mission trip.”

Things started happening so fast, I wondered what had happened to the trip I had so perfectly imagined in my mind. Then, on the first Sunday morning of the trip, I went with my dad and others to a small church service on the outskirts of Ouagadougou. Everywhere I looked there were huts made of mud and dirt, chickens and sheep roaming the streets, and children with big smiles waving and screaming “Nassarra! Nassarra!” which means “white person”.

We entered the small mud building and sat on a wooden bench in the last row as the service began. A man stood at the front leading a song as the drums and clapping of the congregation caught on. It took about five minutes for tears to start forming in my eyes as I felt an emotion I thought would be the last thing I would feel here: jealousy. This was the moment I had been waiting for since we had stepped off the plane – my first glance at the heart of Africa. The beautiful singing of the Ouaga people may not have all been in tune, but their hearts were, and they blended to create the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

On Monday, we met at the main church for a morning of training. The next day, my team headed off to Somgande. The “new church” there was barely three rows of bricks all the way around with a pastor preparing for a Sunday service that had yet to find a congregation. That was where we came in. We separated into groups of twos and threes, each group with a national from the main church, to share our testimonies and explain why we had come – to talk with the people there. Sometimes we spoke and our national translated for us, but most often the national taught the lessons and was in control of the conversation. It was our presence there – the mere fact that we had come – and our prayers that were most important. It didn’t take long for us to realize that God had been building this church long before we got there. It was an amazing experience to witness to these people who were so open to the Word. I can’t describe the joy I felt as I watched these young people go through the Bible lessons.

Yet, the highlight of my day was always the kids. It was an amazing feeling day after day to be greeted by the same crowd of children chanting my name and swamping the vehicles to touch my hand. Their smiles made me forget the poverty all around. These moments with the kids, dancing with them, laughing with them, playing with them, revealed to me the value of simple joy.

This missions trip to Ouagadougou has not only changed my life, but also my view of life. Through this experience I was able to see a whole other part of God’s ministry. I got to go to “Daddy’s workplace”. It may have been a very small part of His ministry that I saw, but I know I experienced it to the fullest. I went to Africa looking for something different, but in the smiles of those children, in the beauty of the voices and in the wonder of the African sunset, I found the same beauty that I’ve seen my whole life. What I found in the heart of Africa was simply a different colour of the same God.

Nadine Crocker and her father Darryl were in Africa March 14–28. Darryl is English ministry pastor at Burnaby (B.C.) Pacific Grace Chinese Church. He has begun the practice of taking each of his children on a missions trip when they turn 16. (See People, MBH, Nov. 15, 2002).