The last three days of the conference in Ganta continued to produce a harvest. On Thursday we had the car back, so I taught in the day time session and preached in the evening. That night four people recommitted their lives to Jesus.

Again on Friday I taught at the morning session and preached in the evening. There was a bit of confusion over the altar call – I gave a call for salvation, as I always do these days, but my interpreter turned it into a call for those who were saved but struggling. When I questioned the number that had come out, and whether they were all first-time salvations, he told me what he had done. I was pretty ticked off, but I prayed for those who had come out anyway. Then it turned out that three of them had come to accept Jesus for the first time, so I led them through the salvation prayer.

I also prayed for those who wanted to receive the baptism in the Holy Spirit, and for those who needed healing. At the Saturday morning service, the final one where I was to minister, they asked for testimonies from Friday night and two testified that they had received the Spirit, and two that they had been healed. There may also have been others, as not everyone from Friday night was there on Saturday morning.

After lunch, it was time to come back to Monrovia. The pastor who had been driving us through the week agreed to bring us back, so it was a long (about six hours) but uneventful trip – the only drama was getting caught up in a traffic jam with hundreds of people going to a funeral. As usual, I did my “good baby” thing and slept a large part of the way.

This morning I ministered at Pastor Mac’s church, and one man responded to the altar call to receive Jesus. That takes the total for the first week of April to 17 salvations, 9 recommitments, and at least 2 healings and 2 baptisms in the Holy Spirit.

Tomorrow I have a day off, and will be trying to link in to our board meeting at home through WhatsApp.

I misunderstood about the place where I am staying here. I am staying at Pastor Leanley’s home, and it is not part of the Rehab Centre, but close by it. The Rehab Centre is run by the government, and was originally for the care of those with leprosy, but that was taken over by a German NGO, so now the centre cares for people with TB.

My first session at the conference was the morning session yesterday. I was a bit disappointed – I only had thirty minutes to speak, and my interpreter kept running off and preaching his own message in between mine. I had to stop in the middle and tell him quietly that if he is going to preach his own message then there is absolutely no point in my being there. After that he stuck with interpreting.

However, what disappointment I felt from the morning meeting was more than made up for in the evening. It was not a huge congregation – a couple of dozen plus heaps of kids. I ministered on Bruised Reeds and Smouldering Wicks (Isaiah 42) and took the full hour. When I gave the call for salvation, thirteen people came forward – and when I gave the second call for recommitment, another two came. What a way to start the month!

Today the car that they had booked to take us from the house to the church (around a kilometre) didn’t show up, and much as both Pastor Mac  and Pastor Leanley tried they were not able to contact the guy. When he hadn’t arrived by 12 for the meeting that was supposed to start at 10, we gave up and said we would not do the morning meeting this morning. I am definitely becoming African – I wasn’t at all fazed by it.

Meanwhile, the power was out all day, and my computer was almost bereft of charge, so I sat under a tree with the pastors and chatted. It was great to hear their hearts, and to listen to their concern and challenges. Getting to know them like this is as much what this trip is about as is preaching in their churches and conferences. So even though I missed a session of ministry I felt it was a very productive morning.

There was still the question of getting to the meeting tonight. I said, “If he doesn’t show up I am happy to hop on the back of a motor bike.” The pastors had not been able to contact the guy by 6, so the bike was it. Getting on with my short, stiff, old legs was, to say the least, an interesting exercise, made even more interesting by a long skirt. But once I was on it was fine, and I really enjoyed the ride.

We had a massive storm last night, and I assume that was responsible for the masses of insects that were swarming around the light in the church building tonight. I’m sure I swallowed a couple in the course of my message, and Mac kept coming up and picking them off my back and out of my hair. The challenges were worth it, though – three people recommitted their lives to the Lord.

Today we travelled to Ganta, around 300kms north-east of Monrovia, where I am ministering at a conference for the week.

The plan was that we were going to leave early this morning, as my first meeting here was to be tonight. But, this is Africa.

Pastor Mac’s car is not in good enough condition to make such a long journey, so he had spent quite a bit of time trying to find someone who was willing to lend/hire a car to us for the week. On Saturday he located one that was suitable and available, and organized for them to bring it to us this morning.

Yesterday afternoon that changed. The car’s owner would not be able to bring it to us, but Mac would have to go in to the city (about an hour’s drive away) to collect it and bring it back here. So, no early start as planned. We would go when he came back with the car.

This meant that I had time to pack this morning instead of doing it last night as I had originally planned, then there was the waiting around time. Mac’s wife called me early for lunch, and I thought that was a sign that we were ready to go.

But no. Mac had come back with no car. Apparently the owner had taken it away somewhere over the weekend and it had been damaged, so it was now at the mechanic being repaired.

Mac was concerned that several changes of public transport might be too much for me, but I said, “If that’s what we have to do, that’s what we have to do.” So he went off in search of some kind of transport for the first leg of the trip.

To my delight, he came back with a kik-kik (tuk-tuk, 3-wheeler motor bike with a body built around it.) I love these little things – they are a cute, fun way to get around. I would love to buy one – it could live here and be a source of income for the church when I am not here, and be guaranteed transport when I am here. (I don’t have money to do this, but I like the idea.) So we kik-kiked off to the other side of the city, all the while enjoying a beautiful breeze as we travelled.

On the other side of the city we stopped at a transport depot – dozens of cars going to various places, all vying for customers. Mac found one heading for Ganta, and loaded our luggage. Then we had to wait, because of course the driver would not go with just two passengers, he had to get two more to make the trip worthwhile. There was also some angst between him and the people running the depot over some kind of payment, but I didn’t really grasp what that was all about.

Finally we were off on the four hour trip to Ganta. About an hour into the trip, we pulled over to the side of the road. Flat tyre. The guys hopped out and helped take the wheel with the damaged tyre off, but of course there was no spare. The driver flagged down a motor bike, which already had a passenger, and after a bit of negotiation he became its second passenger, holding the wheel at the back. After about half an hour he returned with the tyre fixed, and we were on our way again.

After a couple more stops for various bits, I realized – I think I’m becoming African! I had absolutely no concern or anxiety about what time we would get here. It’ll happen when it happens. Hakuna matata!

We did finally arrive about 6. The driver dropped us in the city, and we had to wait for the pastor here, Pastor Leanely, to meet us. They came by kik-kik, so then went off to find a car for the short journey to where I am staying. This is a rehab centre which I think is run by the church, and I have a room with ensuite bathroom, so everything I need. They said they wanted me to rest tonight, and I will begin ministry tomorrow.

As mentioned in Friday’s post, yesterday I needed to do some shopping, particularly to get an extra case to carry my excess loot. To do this we had to go into one of the big market areas in the city of Monrovia. This place was absolute chaos! Hundreds – probably thousands – of stalls selling everything you could possibly imagine. In one of the tiny country towns we lived in when I was a child there was a store – the only store in town – that boasted of selling “everything from a needle to an anchor”, and that would be a very fitting motto for this market.

Not only is there this vast number of stalls, but they are packed closely together, with only the slimmest of walkways between them if you want to get to a stall further in to the middle. As it turned out, we were headed for a shop (permanent stall?) and had to pass through a couple of rows of temporary stalls to get there. As I squeezed through one of those tiny walkways, my shoulder brushed the adjacent stall and a whole display of shoes came crashing to the ground. Glares from the stall owner (I don’t blame him.) Ooops, sorry! Thank the Lord it was shoes, not something breakable!

At first when we reached the shop I thought Mac’s wife had brought me to the wrong place – they seemed to be selling electrical appliances. But yes, they had luggage as well. They had a case the size and type I was looking for. I’m sure the price was probably inflated because of my skin colour, but it was an amount I could manage so I walked out with it. Realized later that I should have asked if they had it in a different colour, as my trademark red flowers (for easy recognition of my case at airports) will not show up on black. I will have to find a different way of marking it as mine.

We made our way out of the market, with me being extremely careful to keep my shoulders in as we passed the shoe stall, all the while watched by an unhappy stall holder.

There are a couple of things that I have encountered in West Africa that I have not seen anywhere else, and that I think are to say the least a little strange.

The first is the normal way of taking drinking water. They have bottled water, as do all African countries, but most of the people seem to prefer taking it in these little plastic bags. I would guess there is about 300ml in each bag, and they are sold cold or sometimes frozen, often by street vendors. The idea is to simply nip the corner and suck out the water. Personally I find that water from them tastes strange (probably due to the plastic) and that they are fairly difficult to drink from – and difficult to keep if you don’t want to drink the whole bag at once. I did find, however, that a cold one makes an excellent cold pack to take the sting out of sunburn – which I managed to acquire again yesterday.

Whilst the water bags are weird, there is one West African practice that totally freaks me out. All along the roads are stalls selling petrol in glass one gallon or half-gallon bottles. Yes, you read that right. PETROL! (Gas, to any Americans who happen to be reading this.) It is considerably cheaper than buying from the petrol stations. Mac explained to me that the petrol tanker drivers will often sell off some of their load cheaply to these roadside merchants. The government here also provides vouchers for people to get petrol, and sometimes people need cash more than gas so they sell their vouchers to the merchants. Every time I see one of these stalls I think, This is a disaster just waiting to happen! The government is trying to clamp down on them, but taking a good income source from people who have very little money is never going to be an easy task.

As mentioned in my last post, the Lord had impressed me to minister on healing on Friday night. To be honest, I didn’t feel particularly anointed as I was preaching, I even felt that I was stumbling a bit. There were no responses to the calls for salvation and recommitment, but that wasn’t really surprising as it was basically the same congregation as had been there all week, and so I assumed that any unsaved or backslidden people had responded earlier in the week.

Then I gave the call for those who had not been baptized in the Holy Spirit to come out … and the anointing hit, big time. I was hardly able to stay on my feet, the presence of the Holy Spirit was so strong. One lady started manifesting the moment I laid hands on her, and was set free. I prayed for a few more, who were obviously hit by the tangible presence of God. Another lady started manifesting before I even came near her, and she was also set free. Many others were also powerfully touched by the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Next I called for those who wanted prayer for healing, and the outpouring continued. I have not had feedback of healings received, but I know that pretty much everyone I prayed for received a massive touch from God.

Finally, I called for those in ministry or called to ministry to receive impartation. It felt like I was moving in the glory – I’m having difficulty finding words to describe it.

Earlier in the week I said something in one of my messages about God desiring to reveal His glory when the church comes together, and Pastor Brook said that God had told him before I came that He was going to do that, and that He would confirm it through me. He certainly made good on that promise on Friday night!

This morning (Sunday) I spoke at Pastor Mac’s church. I talked about Unpacking Our Salvation – looking at the various aspects of what Jesus did for us at the Cross. It was the closest to a “salvation message” that I have come in all my preaching here – and the outcome was five new souls into the Kingdom. Praise God! I am in awe of His awesomeness.

Because this is the end of the month, I have had to do my monthly report for our Board meeting which will come up next week. This is the first paragraph of that report:

“In March I have ministered 27 times in 12 different churches and conferences, in 4 different countries. There have been 27 salvations, 8 recommittments, 7 healings that have taken place while I was preaching, and 2 deliverances. I also had the privilege of ordaining Pastor George Kissei from Ghana as an apostle, and prayed for about 15 people for the baptism in the Holy Spirit, many of whom seemed to have received. In all, it has been an amazing month.” I think the last sentence is something of an understatement!

And in my excitement about what God is doing through me, I have failed to mention something He has done for me. Early in the trip I did something weird to my right arm, and for most of the trip I have not been able to raise it above about 45 degrees without strong pain. About a week ago as I was praising the Lord I suddenly realized that I could move my arm through a full range of motion with no pain at all. Praise God!

Finally for this post, the Kenya eTA issue has been sorted – the web site keeps timing out on me, but Adams has been able to go in and sort it all out on my behalf. Again, praise God.

Today is Good Friday, the day we commemorate the death of the Lord Jesus Christ, so I want to begin this post by saying a very big THANK YOU JESUS! Of course we remember His death every day, and I do particularly as I have Communion each morning and night, but it is important to have a special day when we remember the events of that terrible wonderful day when the Sinless One took on the sin of the world.

The ongoing rolling blackouts here seem to have taken on a pattern: power goes off around 6 to 6.30 in the morning, and stays off for most of the day. It makes doing any computer work difficult, as once the computer has lost its charge I have to wait for power to come back on before I can do any more. When I get home I am definitely going to look into one of those power packs that you charge and then can run the computer from for five or six hours.

Of course, the other thing that doesn’t work when the power is out is the fan. As mentioned in my last post, the room here has good air flow, but it still gets quite hot particularly in the afternoon, as it is on the west side of the building. Yesterday I was very grateful for some rain, which cooled things down nicely in the morning. But overall, God is teaching me to praise Him in the challenges, and there is a lot of that going on.

The conference/crusade where I am ministering this week is only small, maybe 20 to 30 people, but there has been a good response. So far one person has received Jesus as Lord and Saviour, seven have recommitted their lives to Him, and four have received healing while I have been ministering. Tonight is the final night, and the Lord has impressed me to minister on healing, and then to lay hands on people for the baptism in the Holy Spirit and then for healing. Excitedly anticipating what He is going to do.

Tomorrow morning I hope to go shopping. I need to buy an additional small bag. All the gifts that these lovely people have given me in the course of this trip have taken me considerably over the 23kg weight that I am allowed for my flight back to Australia. The flight from Liberia to Kenya is not a problem, as I am allowed two bags, but if my case is overweight for Qantas I will be charged $80 per kg for excess baggage. Yikes! So the plan is to get an extra bag and put some of the gifts into it for the trip from here to Kenya, then leave that bag with Mary and Adams, and next time I come try to make sure that I have room for some extra kilos.

Another challenge that has come up – at the  beginning of the year, Kenya announced that it is now visa-free. Fantastic. But a good thing that I checked. Instead of visas, they now require an electronic Travel Authority (eTA) – which as far as I can tell is just a visa under another name. And, of course, the web site where you are supposed to apply for the eTA keeps timing out.

We were without power for over 36 hours, from early Monday morning till late last night (Tuesday). Apparently someone had been using heavy-duty equipment that was too much for the normal system, and overloaded the grid. Rolling power outages are normal here in Liberia, but this was beyond the normal. My computer was almost totally out of charge, and my phone was down to 50%, so I was trying to conserve it as much as possible. Hence this post is a catch-up of the last few days, and general impressions of this country.

Liberia is hot! In fact all the West African countries are considerably hotter than the East African countries. Access to a fan, whilst not absolutely essential, is highly desirable. The problem is, electric fans require electricity (duh!) and as mentioned above rolling power outages – often six to eight hours at a time – are the norm. The convent where I stayed last week had generators, and so claimed that they had 24/7 power, but a few times power went off and there was nobody around who knew how to actually work the generators, so we sweated through the outage. This week I am staying at Pastor Mac’s home, and the room they have given me is great – it has windows on two sides, which gives a great air flow, and if I leave the door open it is even better. Also, it seems to be a little bit cooler here than in the city.

For some reason Liberia doesn’t feel like Africa. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. There are still the multiple African languages, although most people speak English and all my ministry here so far has been done in English. There are still the rough buildings, although the city of Monrovia is quite modern. There is still the traffic chaos. There is still, sadly, the piles of rubbish lining the streets once you get out of the main city area. But somehow it doesn’t feel African.

The food here is spicy, as seems to be the case in most West African countries. Fortunately, I like food that bites back, and Mac’s wife is a very good cook. I particularly like a kind of fish that I have had a couple of times (she told me the name of it, but I have forgotten) – it’s absolutely the most delish fish I have ever tasted. I also love the fried bananas – not the fried banana chips that are available from the roadside sellers (though those are also yummy) but whole fried bananas. Think banana split without the toppings. Major yummo!

Like other West African countries, Liberia has a love affair with ceramic tiles. Almost all floors are tiled (a very sensible option in this climate) – but so are outdoor areas, fences, and I have even seen entire buildings clad with tiles. I’m assuming it is some kind of status symbol.

This week I am ministering every evening at a revival crusade, with the theme The Glory of God. I thought they were going to be outreach meetings, but really it is primarily a conference for the church here. Nonetheless, there was one salvation on Monday night, as well as five recommitments and one healing. Last night there was one healing. God is moving.

Now the power is off again – I assume one of the regular outages – so I need to finish this off while the computer still has power.

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.

This week I am ministering at the conference here in Monrovia, teaching a session each morning (except for today) and preaching at the open session in the evening. As has become my habit, I have been giving an altar call for salvation at each of the evening meetings, and so far there have been five responses, four on Tuesday and one on Wednesday.

I have commented earlier in this blog that I used to rarely give a call for salvation, as I am normally ministering in Christian gatherings, and preaching a message for believers, but I have come to realize that I have probably missed a lot of possible salvations through this. As a meme I saw recently on social media says, “People who go fishing catch more fish than people who don’t go fishing.” So I have determined that wherever there is opportunity I will “go fishing” when I minister.

During the week I was thinking about healing, and specifically the fact that the Lord had promised me healings for this trip, and so far I had not been aware of any healings happening. The Holy Spirit gave me a nudge and reminded me that, just as I didn’t see salvations until I started inviting people to be saved, so I can’t expect to see healings unless I pray for people to be healed. (I have prayed for healing a bit while I have been here in Africa, but not consistently.)

I thought about that and wondered how I could do it at the present conference. The Bishop who is leading the conference is insistent that the evening sessions must end by 8pm, which does not really leave time for laying hands on a bunch of people after the preaching.

Then the Lord reminded me that He had promised that on this trip I would begin to see people being healed while I preach. So before I started last night I asked those who needed physical healing to raise their hands. Quite a few did, and then I told them of the Lord’s promise and asked them to believe for Him to touch their bodies while I was ministering.

After I finished preaching (not on healing) I asked those who had raised their hands earlier to indicate if they had received a touch in their bodies. Four or five put their hands up, and two ladies came out to testify – one had an eye problem that had cleared, and the other tummy pain that had gone.

I am so excited! God has used me for healing in the past – in some cases quite remarkable healings – but this is the first time ever He has done it without me laying hands on people. His promises are “yes and amen”, and I can’t wait to see what He is going to do next.

I have forgotten to mention in my last few posts, the internet here in West Africa has been out for a week. Apparently some undersea cables have been destroyed, and the governments are saying that it will be at least five weeks before they can have it fully restored. As a result, yesterday was the first time I was able to access the internet or my email since it happened. So even though the last few posts are dated according to when events happened, I am actually doing a bulk catch-up post today.

On Monday night, after we had had a very delish dinner/late lunch cooked by Pastor Mac’s wife, they took me to the place where they had organized for me to stay for the week. It turned out to be a private home of one of the church members, who had given up her bedroom for me. That was very kind of her, and I appreciated it, but it was quickly apparent that it was not going to work for me. I was trying to have a prayer/Bible reading time, but every few minutes I had to stop to respond to her question of “Are you ok?” Then in the morning, again when I was trying to have my time with God, she kept coming in to get stuff from the room or to do her bits and pieces. Fair enough, it was her room. But it meant that I was not able to get that private devotional time.

The last straw was that at 4.45am, I had just woken up, I was laying there half naked trying to get cool, and some kid stuck his head in the door to look at me. No, sorry, my bits are for me to see and nobody else. So when Pastor Mac came I told him this is just not working, and said if they could find a cheap place where I can have some privacy I will pay for it.

As a result I am now in a room at a convent. It is more expensive than I would have liked, and up a daunting flight of stairs, but at least it means that I can have the time I need with the Lord in order to be prepared for what is going to be a very busy time of ministry.

This week there is a conference here in Monrovia. I am taking a daytime session and the night session each day, Tuesday to Friday, then I will be speaking at the Sunday service. The theme of the conference is Work While It Is Day, so for the daytime sessions I am teaching on gifts and ministries. The teaching has been very well received, and last night four people responded for salvation, so I was thrilled.

Next week I will be speaking every night at a revival crusade, but that will only be evening meetings. I’m believing for God to move in miracle power at those meetings.

Meanwhile, I’m still barking and hacking up gobs of gunk, but at least the worst of it – the feeling of not being able to breathe and my throat being closed over – has passed.