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Home Happened

Home Happened

Well, our voyage from Niger to Oklahoma was… not boring. Here are the highlights; there are several. The context of this story begins with me having been sick the previous several days. At around 1 am, our taxi friend dropped us off at the airport. At around 1:10 am, I found myself in a losing discussion with a very kind but very firm manager. He couldn’t find our tickets in his all-knowing computer system. Apparently, someone somewhere in the internet universe had taken my money but hadn’t issued tickets. I swayed with frustration and salmonella. Pulling out my phone, I feverishly searched for confirmation numbers in my e-mails, but nothing solved the problem. Finally, as the minutes ticked away, I pulled out my credit card so that I could buy two new tickets. I had no confidence that the transaction would work because my card is very fragile. I began preparing Mikey for the likelihood that we weren’t getting on the plane. However, the $2,400 payment did process, and on we went.

We arrived at our hotel in Egypt, and after waving at the Pyramids, I accessed my bank account online. The charge for the new tickets was not there. It never appeared. You know, in the grand scheme of things, Jeremy and Mikey missing their flight or paying extra probably would not have registered on the list of world tragedies. But God cares about the details of our lives. And certainly, God would still be God if I had been forced to purchase extra tickets, but God did take care the situation for us, and we are thankful.

The saga continues. We arrived in Washington D.C., and, of course, I was randomly chosen by a demonic computer system to be subjected to an extra layer of federal screening. Incidentally, the officer seemed genuinely empathetic that I and, by extension, Mikey were picked. A supervisor locked my passport in a plastic box, handed it back to me, and said in a serious tone, “See this red line on the floor? Follow it and don’t deviate to the left or the right, and someone will find you.” So, into the bowels of the airport we marched, not deviating to the right or to the left. We found a waiting area and waited, and waited. Eventually, a genial, rotund man called me to his booth where we had a pleasant loquacious discussion about my life. That was wonderful and all, but we missed our connecting flight and spent eight extra hours in our nation’s dear capital.  

As I write this, we have been in Oklahoma for about five weeks, and the time for our return to Niger is quickly approaching. We are preparing to leave home for our other home. Both Mikey and I have similar feelings concerning the term home. In a perfect world, we’d be content in both places, but humans just aren’t easily satisfied. When we’re in Niger, we long for the family, food, and conveniences of home, the United States. When we’re in Oklahoma, we yearn for the people, school classes, and church services that have grown to be so important in our lives at home, Niger.

Christians wait impatiently for the coming of home, spiritual eternity. It’s difficult to be content during the waiting, and in a way, perhaps it’s best we don’t become too content. Christ calls restless believers to urgently invest the message of salvation in the individuals who populate our lives. The hope is that we and those around us will one day be present at home together.


Here is the link to a video about audio Bibles.

The three young women are being baptized. I taught their baptism class for our church. The lady on the end has taught them in youth Sunday school.
Graduation ceremony at Sahel Academy, where I teach and where Mikey attends
This is Mikey’s annual picture at the airport in front of the dinosaur bones. In its desert regions, Niger possesses huge stores of ancient bones and fossils.
This was taken from our hotel balcony in Egypt.
Sailing on the Nile
A mosque near the Nile