The Market and the Bible

Yesterday was our first Sunday in the country, and it was a perfect day from start to finish. We started the day with what we thought would be a mundane breakfast of eggs, bananas, and toast- but boy were we in for a surprise when a family of monkeys (nearly 20!) arrived at our lodge in the morning. Quickly we realized they were our friends and not enemies, but the innocent façade quickly faded as they began to steal our bananas right from under our noses on our plates. I nearly had a heart attack when I felt a little hand on my leg and looked down to see a furry face swipe my banana- I still can’t believe this is real life! The lodge staff wasn’t nearly as endeared by our monkey friends as we were, so eventually they shooed them away. The monkeys got their bananas though, so I think they still accomplished their main mission! (Pictures to come soon- they are NOT camera shy ;)

After breakfast, we walked into town to go to church. No sooner after stepping around the corner and hearing the singing, I felt a warm flood wash over me and I was overcome with gratitude to be back in this place. I fought the tears as I entered the church, afraid that we (as visitors) might get called to the front. But this time, we slid in the back row to worship with our friends.

And worship we did. While we didn’t know all of the songs, some of the songs were old mountain hymns from back home in Virginia! We sang “Bringing in the Sheaves” which reminded me of my momma, and as we exited the church, we sang “this little light of mine”. There is nothing more powerful and humbling than singing hymns with brothers and sisters from around the world. I am always moved to tears just thinking about it because I just imagine that’s what heaven must be like.

Next, we stopped by the market to pick up a few necessities, like bottled water. Lauren had agreed to carry my wallet in her backpack, so I was only carrying my Bible in my hand. As we walked around the market, I kept noticing one man eye my Bible. We made eye contact, and I smiled, and he offered a genuine smile back. I could see that his face had been severely burned, perhaps when he was young, and I wondered what he may have endured. I wondered what his story was.

I walked over to the man. “Muli bwanji?”, I said, offering my best warm greeting in Chichewa. As we exchanged a bit of small talk, I noticed again that he looked longingly at my Bible.

“Duandani?”, I asked him, which means “what’s your name?”. He grinned and said “Paul!”.

I felt an unmistakable and distinct urge: give him the Bible. But instead, we exchanged some more small talk.

Again, I felt it in my heart. Give him the Bible.

For an awful fleeting second, I thought “I can’t give him this Bible. My sister gave it to me and it means so much to me.” I am so ashamed at my selfishness in that moment of thought.

And again, more strongly, I felt it, and I keenly felt the shame at my hesitation. Give him the Bible.

“Do you have a Bible?”, I asked Paul quietly. “No mam, he said, I’ve never had one.”

I reached out with the tan leather one I had in my hand. “Would you like this one?”

His eyes lit up, but then he shook his head. “No mam,” he said, “I cannot take that one, for that one is yours and you have brought it a long way.” With tears in my eyes, I told him I believed I brought it a long way for him. I told him that my sister gave it to me, and that it was very special to me, but that my sister would be so happy to know that he had it. He was so happy, and he asked me to write down my sister’s name so that he could carve something for her. He told me he would never sell it or lose it, and that when I come back to Malawi again (if I am so lucky, I thought to myself), he would show me the Bible.

Later that afternoon, I passed by the market again, and I saw Paul sitting in that same spot, reading that same Bible. And again, today, I happened to run into Paul. He told me that he had enjoyed reading in the book of John last night.

My new prayer is that I might be as hungry as Paul for truth and the Word. I will never forget that moment. And one thing is for sure- I was supposed to be exactly at that market, with Paul, at that precise moment- because my heart was forever shaped by Paul and his joy.