Callie (in striped shirt) and I (in white shirt) with the women at one of the churches in Mozambique (Ingreja Alianca de Mocambique) |
I remember the day I met her.
Her reputation preceded her: a prophetic
woman who was married to Keir, a graceful lady that bore a no-nonsense approach
to evangelism. She believed that if a
Christian testified what God had done for them it would be easy for others to
listen - I believed the same thing.
Her name was Callie and I called her Snow
White behind her back. It wasn’t just
because she looked like the Disney princess, with shocking black hair, creamy
white skin and red lips that were always smiling. It was also because she was such a supportive
force for her husband, gently supporting him as he went to claim the pearls
of great price in the mission field. Callie
had a dreamy grace that made me want to be like her. She also liked me, which makes it easy to be
friends with someone.
We met on a trip into Mozambique, in a
village just north of Maputo. The local
pastors were organizing a big tent revival and asked Keir and his team to come
and host an “outreach”. We visited the
churches on the Sunday before the weekend, our team meeting the pastors and
their wives before we started working together.
I was surprised that Keir and Callie asked Mario and I to accompany them
to the church we went to, but we gladly went.
“We may be asked to go fetch bread,” Callie
whispered to me just outside the church building. It must have been a thousand degrees Fahrenheit
and I was already dripping in sweat.
“Where is the bakery?” I asked, crystals of
perspiration already sliding off my face.
“I hope it is not far,” Callie said, smiling mischievously.
We both giggled, like sisters.
Was I that obvious? I didn't want
to walk far in that heat and I knew it fall to the women to schlep the whole load
of bread back to the church for the after-service.
We found the bakery, mercifully only a few
hundred meters down the road. The baker
was expecting us and already had a few plastic bags ready for us to take
away. I was grateful, but sticky when we
arrived back at the church.
“Why aren’t you sweating?” I finally asked
Callie, who seemed embarrassed by the question.
“Believe me, I am,” she answered.
“I can’t tell,” I said. The observation made Callie laugh. “I’m sure not used to this heat.” I would have fanned myself if I had a free
hand. I was still used to being in
Africa.
The trip was groundbreaking for Mario and
I. It was the first trip we had with Keir and Callie and we were greatly impressed by their marriage and their desire to serve God together. They seemed inseparable, but I l later found out
that Callie and Keir were no strangers to separation. During a time of conversation that evening, Keir and
Callie told us their story. Their words spilled out like diamonds as we
listened. They had spent the early years
of their marriage with Keir in the army and then later years with him on the road
and Callie home with the kids. Keir was
a man that was famous for his crusades, evangelizing tirelessly with teams,
going in and out of Sub-Saharan Africa.
“You seem so close,” I confessed to her
later. “You don’t seem bitter about all
the separation you had to go through…” I
wanted my marriage to Mario be selfless, but I didn’t think we could be the
kind of couple that still filled with intimacy and tenderness, like theirs
seemed to be.
“We are close,” she told me. “But it is because God has caused that. I’ve supported Keir in this ministry and God
has given me the grace to be without him when he’s gone.”
“I don’t know if I could do it,” I
said.
Callie only smiled. “Well, has God asked you to?”
I thought about the question long and
hard. I was a little relieved that the
answer was no. God never asked me to
surrender Mario to long, solitary trips or be on long trips without me. I was glad that He hadn’t, I hated separation.
The Mozambique trip was not our only trip
together; it wasn’t our only ministry together.
I loved ministry with Keir and Callie – it was so honest, so
refreshing.
One of the reasons I love it is because
Callie is one of the most unique mentors I have in my life. She doesn’t try to teach, she just naturally
imparts love and wisdom just by being herself.
I love who she is because of the love she has for others, and for
me. I also love the way she teaches
me.
The Bible says “A word fitly spoken
is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.” (Proverbs 25:11). For our mentors, this is true. They have a way of teaching that doesn't feel
like we’re being taught, only that we are being befriended.
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