Hello YWAM Port of Peace Family, I miss Haiti more than “dearly” or any words that I could really put on this screen i’m writing on and you’re reading from. Let’s get right into it.
What is obedience?
Something drilled in us from childhood so that we grow up and become disciplined people? Sure.
A word a large percentage of the church doesn’t care to hear in the context of following God? maybe.
For me obedience is a constant pain in the backside, and the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Why on Earth would someone that loves me so much put me through hard things… like leaving the nation that stole my heart and taught it a new rhythm to beat to? The nation that left me bleeding it’s culture and love everywhere I go. I’m not sure I was ever sutured up or whether my heart was put back in the proper place.
When I came to Mongolia last summer, the place God told me about from my bedroom in Haiti in the spring of 2021, I was completely appalled and offended that everyone had the audacity to not be Haitian. People here aren’t very vocal, if you’ve ever been to Haiti you know that it’s loud, beautifully loud, in your face loud, no ability to talk to your friend right in front of you at the restaurant loud. Mongolia is quiet, serene. I was also annoyed that my mouth and tongue had to configure themselves in a new way in order to fit in again. This time verbs needed to be conjugated… oof. I know that none of this explanation is incredibly linear nor am I giving you much setting and timing for clarity. I just know that you guys know I don’t live in Haiti anymore. She never left me though. I live in Mongolia now, still with YWAM. Still in love with Jesus and his crazy standards and his upside down kingdom. I’ve seen Mongolian kids that were once hellbent on suicide become heavenwardly joyful. I’ve seen bitter people crying hot soupy tears of gladness and forgiveness.
Today I met an 88 year old woman who used to be deeply buddhist but had an encounter with Jesus many years ago amidst a wild revelation when some people came bearing The Gospel at her home. She listened all those years ago as these Christians talked about Jesus and what He did for us, and in that moment it clicked, she suddenly knew in hindsight that it was Him protecting her all her life, Him gently guiding her steps. After that she burned all her Buddhist books and started radically living for Him. Today she is a Bible school graduate who makes dumpling tea for the homeless and for alcoholics, and has Bible verses stuck on her window for passersby to see. She has bowed legs and constant headaches, and as we prayed for her and listened to her talk through her few teeth remaining, she shared that she’s ready to go home to Jesus in the most matter of fact way. Before going to see and meet her I was scared of praying for such an old lady with so many health problems as I have a doubt complex on healings (He’s working on me), but when we got there nothing had anything to do with me. It was just a really old, really obedient, really faithful woman doing what she can for her community. She didn’t have to move to the other side of the globe to make an impact or to be a missionary… she just read her bible and spit acts through the gap in her teeth, held the lowest up with her wrinkled hands, mended broken hearts with her wit and strength. She never had any kids of her own and though I only sat with her for 30 minutes, I’m one of her holy kids now. She handed me down an inheritance in the form of cookies and chocolate (Mongolian hospitality), and in the happiest “Hallelujah!”, I’ve ever heard. I never even got her name, but you’ll see her in heaven and I will too… she’ll be tricked out with medals and a big crown, no dental crowns needed, beaming up at Abba.
I just want to be like her. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m laying in between two of my students on the floor of a random church in the Gobi desert. I just want to be counted as faithful, I just want to be obedient and see more people fall in line behind His glorious leadership. Most of all I just wanted to see another side of His face.
Sincerely Jackson, yon pitit BonDye.
