I sometimes led, or joined, some work teams from the church I was pastoring, going to places like Bolivia, Paraguay, and Honduras. Almost always, we had some veteran workers on these teams who would counsel “go with the flow and flop with the mop.” It simply meant things didn’t always go according to plan, so you learn to adjust. That’s difficult for a perfectionist such as I; especially when it involves teaching and preaching. I like for things to flow the right way and have often felt like the “flop” in the mop. I’ve also had to learn to rest in God’s sufficiency and ability—way, way beyond my limited attempts at ministry. I’ve learned that “God,” as Dr. Kinlaw would say, “was there way before me and would be there way after me.” But it’s a wonderful blessing when one senses that God has brought us into an important part of what He is doing, as inefficient as we may feel sometimes. Such was the case on my recent trip to Bolivia.
I was invited to speak at a youth retreat for the World Gospel Church, in the Tarija district of Bolivia, about two hours flight from Santa Cruz. I had just finished helping my brother, Jim, corral, weigh, and load about 150 bulls onto trucks for market. It was a long, hot, tedious job. Brahma bulls are stubborn and jumpy. He started this ranch a few years ago and it is beginning to pay off in funding for the Bolivia Evangelical University, where he serves. Now I was headed to the youth retreat, and I thought to myself, “I wonder if young people can be as stubborn and jumpy as Brahma bulls?” I was ready! The first night would be a great PowerPoint presentation I had prepared. They said it would be no problem. The projector and screen would be up and running. Not so. Our transportation got us there late, the music went on forever, and the transition from the music group’s use of the projector and my use, I realized, wasn’t going to happen. I was scrambling in my head, “Lord, what do I bring?” The night was long and the young people, like the bulls, just stared at me. I gave a brief thought on “Crossing Bridges,” noting that, interestingly, both in Spanish and English, the word “Crossing” (“Cruzando,” in Spanish) had the word “cross” in it, and that with all the bridges one must cross, the cross of Christ was the most important, and one I prayed they would cross. I felt like I had stumbled on it and stumbled in it. But God!
The next evening, I so felt God’s gracious help (and the use of the projector), as I spoke to God’s design for our lives—as made in His image and His likeness. Young people moved to an altar with seriousness and sincerity. Afterwards, as I stood at the back, a beautiful young lady came up to me with tears in her eyes and extended her hand, wanting to thank me for the message. She looked at me and said, “I want you to know I crossed the bridge!” I too felt like I had crossed {“type”:”block”,”srcClientIds”:[“ce212bc0-be8b-4ab6-8969-c427e7a39f1b”],”srcRootClientId”:””}another bridge—the bridge of God’s sufficiency in my insufficiency. He was there way before me and would continue to be with her way after me, but it was a joy to have some part in His plan. I like that!