I have had a great time ministering at the Alive in Christ Church conference in Monrovia with Pastor Daniel. The daytime teaching has been very well received, and a total of fourteen people have received Jesus as their Lord and Saviour in the evening meetings and this morning’s Sunday service. I am in awe of what God is doing.
Yesterday they took me to see where they are building a new headquarters for the church. It is about an hour’s drive from the city, along some roads that they describe as “rough”, but which are not nearly as rough as the goat tracks of some of the East African countries. They have been working on the project for three years, but financial constraints mean that they have so far not made a great deal of progress. But they are holding on in faith to see it completed.
This morning there was some confusion all round. Pastor Daniel had said he would pick me up for the morning service at around 9.30. At exactly 9.30 a black car came in to the convent, and I assumed it was him. When I saw the driver, he wasn’t Daniel, but he looked like one of the young guys from the church, so I thought that Daniel must have sent him. Got into the car. The driver took me to a house, and someone from the house told me to go upstairs. “Um, no, I’m supposed to be speaking at the church. Why am I here and not at the church?”
After a bit of back and forth and calling someone more senior on the phone, it turned out that the driver had picked up the wrong person. Back to the convent. By now it was after 10, and I was a bit concerned that Daniel might have missed me while I was gone, but he turned up not much later so all was well. I don’t know who the first driver was supposed to pick up, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t an old white woman – I think I’m the only one of those around.
Also a bit of confusion with the preaching. All week I have had one hour sessions, and I assumed today would be the same. About 25 minutes into my message Daniel handed me a note, which I couldn’t read without my glasses, and then whispered that it was supposed to be 30 minutes. I wound up quickly as possible and gave the altar call, to which five people responded. I hope five new souls will help them to forgive me for the boo-boo.
After the service we headed back to the convent to pick up my bags – one last trip up those stairs (I should have taken a photo of them, but thought of it too late.) I certainly won’t miss them! Then we drove to Pastor Mac’s home, where I am staying for the next week.