United Baptist started their revival week this morning, which means long prayer sessions, multiple chances to give offerings, and more than anything lots of dancing and praising Jesus! I must say that I’m glad I have pretty good rhythm because here once the music starts the entire congregation bounces to the beat and yells out their praise: one giant godly mosh pit. It was difficult to understand the guest pastor this morning because of his thick accent on top of speaking very fast (and loud!) but I picked up that he was speaking about following God despite being unworthy of His standards.
The rain still hasn’t let up so we walked home in the sprinkles and enjoyed another delicious meal from Baba before heading to the Clinic for support group meeting. Today was testimony day so a few people got up and shared the journey they have been on since being diagnosed with HIV. Everyone gave thanks to God reminding us all that it is not by their own strength or even the ARV drugs that get them through each day. The most amazing part of the entire service was when a guest speaker was introduced to give his story. Bob is a tall graying white man from Santa Barbara who by looking at him would never be suspected of carrying such an unforgivable disease. His story completely blew me away:
Bob was diagnosed with AIDS in 1985 when little was known about the condition and superstitions were running rampant. When the doctors told him the news he knew his life was about to change. He was advised to keep it confidential. Worse than realizing he would soon be a social outcast in the posh society he lived in was the terror of solving how he had contracted it: Bob had cheated on his wife...three years earlier. He had carried the disease for three years before coming to the hospital with some unexplainable aches and pains. At this point in his life he had a wife who didn’t know of his actions of 1982, two young daughters, and a comfortable lifestyle. He told a few people close to him about his recent discovery and had to confess to his wife what had happened. Bob was dying and there was not much time left. But God is good. Bob’s wife was tested and found to be clean, something that is almost unheard of. She forgave him of what he had done and promised that she would stand by his side. He broke the news to his daughters a few years later and they jumped in to help. What was the greatest miracle is that five years went by and he was still alive. Bob knew that God had let him hold on a little longer to do the thing that terrified him the most: share his story with others. His health started to fail him by 1990 and his family started getting ready for his passing. About this time medical science had just come out with the first drugs and Bob was a test patient. Another miracle--they worked. Flash forward to 2008 and Bob has three grandchildren, the same loving family, and renewed strength. He believes God works through mistakes, even deadly ones, so he now goes around the world to encourage support groups and remind them to keep going. It is his calling. 26 years living positively.
When he finished Bob got 21 fist-throwing “Bouzas!” the highest respect a group of Nigerians will give. He also made a blonde cry.
It was a pivotal moment in history: A group of people who are labeled as hopeless in the world’s eyes, who have watched their family die, most waiting for their own turn to fade away, were given the chance to realize they could someday hold their grandchildren. THAT is a miracle.
Jump up and throw your fist in the air! Bouza! Baba God, Bouza!
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