Well, I had this real spiritual blog written to let you know how God was speaking to me but my computer was stolen and the document I had been writing was taken along with it. There will be a spiritual message to this but indulge me while I tell you of the Zambian episode of “COPS”.
Imagine that the song “Bad Boys Bad Boys….wha cha gonna do…” is playing in the background.
Last week I attended a CHAZ (Church Health Association of Zambia) annual conference. CHAZ is an organization of churches that manage healthcare facilities and the organization works to help raise money for projects, particularly, HIV/AIDS, TB and Malaria. Administrators, doctors and nurses attend the annual conference. I attended as an educational opportunity to learn more about CHAZ’s involvement with the church and what resources/programs the Pilgrim Wesleyan Church was not using at this time.
It was a wonderful conference. It was very informative and was considered an important event in Zambia. Zambia recognizes the influence that CHAZ and the churches have on the future of the nation. The current president of Zambia, Levy Mwanawasa, delivered the keynote address and the first president of Zambia, Kenneth Kaunda, delivered the closing address. It was an honor to be in attendance.
Unfortunately, the first day I lost my backpack. This backpack has been with me every day since I left the United States. It usually has my computer, passport, international drivers license, and current paper files I am working with. This day it also had 2, 000,000 kwacha ($500) and my Ipod.
I had been very careful and carried it with me constantly throughout the day. In the afternoon I felt a little more comfortable with the attendees (several Catholic sisters and priests, hospital administrators and professionals) and when we broke for afternoon tea I left the bag under my chair. Now, I know….several of you are saying how could you do that? Well, I’m sitting in the front and center of the room, not close to doors or windows and my bag is under my chair. Other ladies’ bags are in their chairs and they walked away. I was gone maybe 5 minutes. Please understand I was more comfortable but not completely trusting. When I returned to my chair the bag was gone. That quickly! Obviously, someone was watching me and targeted me specifically. No one else was affected and there were much easier targets.
My initial reaction was one of disbelief. Maybe it was just moved under another chair as people moved around. The sisters I was sitting with looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Why was I walking around the room looking under everyone’s seat? Some thought that I never had it or maybe I had left it in my room (I was not staying at the hotel). I have a picture taken by one of the photographers there where the backpack is thrown over my shoulder. It was definitely there!
The emcee of the conference made an announcement once security had been notified. There were guards posted at the door to watch the attendees leave the room. The security guards at the parking gate searched vehicles as they left and the hotel managers interviewed their staff. The bag was nowhere to be found.
Next step is to contact the police. Now, in Zambia there is no 911. If you need assistance you must travel (by foot or vehicle) to the nearest police station. One of the CHAZ personnel offered to drive me. I wish I had a picture! It was a portable building we use for temporary construction sites. When I approached the window, there were no police officers in the building but two men were sitting outside in plastic lawn chairs talking. They stood and I wanted to laugh out loud. I haven’t seen the movie “Men in Black” but I’ve seen the previews and they could have been the actors. They both wore black suits and sunglasses. It was around 4pm and the sun was not bright.
At first, they didn’t seem to be too concerned but as we continued to talk and they realized that this happened at the conference the president had attended earlier…… “Maybe we should check it out? Oh, by the way, can you give us a ride to the site of the crime?”
This is where the music started in my head. Bad boys..bad boys…. There were 6 of us crammed in a small vehicle as we headed for the hotel. Since police were in the car we could go through red lights and break any other traffic laws. I asked for a blue light or a siren but they didn’t have either.
The police officers surveyed the crime scene. They looked under chairs, in the restrooms, the kitchen and spoke with the front desk. The desk clerk informed them that someone had left the conference for 15-20 minutes and had asked them to hold a black bag. They retrieved it once the commotion from the theft had settled. They found out the room numbers of anyone who had left bags to be held at the front desk and we proceeded to these room. Because we didn’t have a search warrant, we asked each guest if we could see any bags they had in the room. Everyone cooperated and the backpack was not found.
We drove the police officers back to the station. I left my contact number with them and was told to return the next day to receive a copy of the police report. Everything to this point had been handwritten. There was no automation.
The next day at the conference I learned that several groups of people had gathered to pray for the return of my bag. Everyone seemed to think that one of the photographers had taken it. The CHAZ officials assured me that this was the first time that anything like this had ever happened at one of their meetings.
Now, this is where the spiritual stuff starts…..
As the first president of Zambia began to speak I felt an overwhelming desire to pray for the person who had taken my bag. My prayer was not for them to be caught but that they would be convicted (in their heart) of their wrongdoing. I asked that they realize the importance of the documents. Just take the computer and money. Leave the documents somewhere obvious so that I wouldn’t have to replace everything! I felt strongly that the person responsible was in the room at that very moment. I didn’t hear much of what the ex-president had to say.
While still praying, knowing that all things happen for a purpose, I began to examine why God would allow such a thing to take place. He knew the time I had put into proposals and reports that were on that computer. He knew the $500 was meant for the renovation of the Zimba Mission Hospital laboratory. He knew how long it would take to get a new passport. He knew how much that computer meant to me…..
That computer was my best friend. It comforted me in the evenings. When I was alone it provided me with entertainment…movies, games and music. I would spend many evening hours listening to my Christian music while I played spider solitaire. Sometimes I would watch a few episodes of MASH or a movie I had seen before. That computer went everywhere I went. When I left it at home, it was locked in a file cabinet. If it traveled with me it was on my back. That computer had become too important!
Now, don’t get me wrong. I still worship God and spend time in study and prayer like a good missionary should but the real question was….could I spend more time studying the Word and listening to God? Was I more dependent on the computer than I was on God for comfort? Could I survive without the computer? I must admit I had a similar problem with television while in the states. The computer had become a substitute.
I began to examine my activities, my heart and myself. God began to reveal ways my loss was glorifying him and the truth from Romans 8:28 was affirmed…”And we know that all things work together for good …”
- I met a man from CHAZ who will be helpful in advancing my ministry in Zimba.
- My siblings have joined together to replace my computer.
- Friends, both Christian and non-Christian are praying for the circumstance and me.
- I will spend more time in “soul-care”.
- My passport can be picked up at the American Embassy on Friday.
These are all good things….
