What are the odds?

Yesterday, we decided to “try out” the Baptist church around the corner. We’ve had the “pleasure” of following all the services from our living room. Guess why they call those things LOUD speakers? Anyway, the girls didn’t want to go to an African church, because they think that they last too long, are loud and boring. But we had heard that the service would be in English and French. So, the girls put on their new dresses, and off we went. As the first “yovo” of the day, we were escorted to the front, sort of on display. Of course, it is a sign of honour (but it doesn’t always feel like a perk). After a while I started wrestling with God. So far the service had only been in Ewe (local language) and French, and it was very, very loud. I asked God to help me praise him, because there was nothing conducive to worship for me. I could already see that I was going have to endure this torture, hoping that it wouldn’t take too long.

All in a sudden my whole attitude changed. From one minute to the other I knew that God was in control of my life and that being at this church was no accident. In fact, it was exactly where God wanted us to be. I knew God had heard my prayer.
What had changed? While we were singing, a casually dressed man and boy walked in. As they passed, the man waved. I did a double-take. No, that couldn’t be. It was Amboise, the director of our language school in France. His wife had been Roger’s teacher the first term and our girls, and all of us, became really good friends with them. It was so astonishing. I mean we knew he was originally from Togo and still had family here, but he hadn’t been at home for 12 years and we had no idea that they were coming to visit. It was just too unreal. In a city of around 800,000 with many churches, he walked into the same one we had decided to attend that Sunday! What are the odds.

It gets more amazing. The lady sitting next to me asked, in French of course, what we were all talking so excitedly about among ourselves. I said that the man and his son who had just walked past were friends and we were amazed to see them. She asked me what the man’s name was. I said Teko (family name). She said, “My name is Teko as well, he is my brother.” Was I floored. No wonder he came to this church as his sister and brother-in-law go there, too. They live not far from us. It was all too much. It was hard to concentrate after that.

It was just too much to take in. I said afterward that it’s a small world, but I like better what the sister said, “We have a big God”. It’s too true. “Our God is a great big God. And He holds us in His hand.” (or as Sydney used to sing, “And He holds on Sydney’s hand”)

By the way, another “yovo” couple came in that morning, which also had to sit in the front. He was the guest speaker. He introduced himself as a teacher at a Baptist university in Texas. In fact they came from Marshall, Texas; just 17 miles where I went to high school! Another one of those co-incidences a-la-God!
By the way, the message was in English and French after all.