Addictions in the Muslim world
I dug my toes into the warm sand as I
sat on the beach watching and listening. I was watching Matt swim
and enjoying the scenery. Small fishing boats anchored in the shallow
water near the beach. The sun was slowly sinking in the distance,
creating a picturesque scene on the horizon. I was listening to the
tale of a Muslim man who I had just met. He was pouring his heart
out. He and his brother had been in England for a period of time.
Whilst there, his brother had picked up a serious drug addiction. The
addiction travelled back with him all the way to the small island of
Zanzibar where we were now sitting. The addiction haunted him and his
family and created much sorrow and heartache.
They did not know where to turn at this point. The man had come to the beach to reflect upon this at the same time I sat there. I listened to his story and asked him, “Could I pray for your brother?” The man earnestly replied, “Yes, please do.” Right there, on the beach we prayed together. Islam can not anything for someone who hits rock bottom. Christ meets people right where they are at.
They did not know where to turn at this point. The man had come to the beach to reflect upon this at the same time I sat there. I listened to his story and asked him, “Could I pray for your brother?” The man earnestly replied, “Yes, please do.” Right there, on the beach we prayed together. Islam can not anything for someone who hits rock bottom. Christ meets people right where they are at.
Preaching to fellow Muslims
Earlier in the day we had jumped on a
random bus. Our mission was people, so it did not matter where we
went. The bus was full of people, and they most likely were going to
places where there were more people. “Take us to the end.” I said
to the driver. He seemed both amused and confused by our request,
but he complied. We were dropped in a rural area. We wandered around
looking for people to share our good news with. We met people, but
it seemed none of them spoke English. We handed out Swahili tracts
whilst someone went to find a translator. When the “translator”
was brought to us we soon realized that his English was a little
better than our Swahili. “Can you read the tract to the others?”
I asked him. He began to read the tract with great passion and
fervency. He sounded like he was preaching! We were surprised, a
muslim man was preaching the gospel in Swahili to his fellow muslims!
Another Muslim gets saved
On another adventure Matt & his
translator ended up in a small shop where they sat down for a coke.
The outdoor furniture they sat on was no ordinary furniture. It was
made of old tires! A tire chair, a tire couch, and tire tables! Matt
shared the gospel with the man sitting in the tire chair next to him.
“The Holy Spirit led us here, to speak to you.” The man listened
intently and received Christ.
The stories go on and on. They are the
moments we treasure as we reflect on our trip. Yes, we went swimming
in exotic places, visited prison island, sampled amazing foods,
traipsed through curios markets etc. We did all those things, but
this is what we treasure. We have lost count of the stories, but God
hasn't. We stopped counting the number of Muslims and others that got saved. They are recorded in eternity. I will try to post some of the
best pictures this week. God bless, p. Adam & Melinda, Micah,
Noah & Aliza!