Elisha
A Saturday Story… Thank you for your support of First Light.
I was told we would leave for the morning worship service at 8 AM. I had been asked to be a guest speaker in the small church that met on the third floor of a commercial building that sits along one of the many busy streets of the twin cities of a South Asian country. A store for baby clothing occupies the first floor, a commercial business the second, and several churches share the space on the third floor, coordinating their services throughout the Lord’s Day so that one begins shortly after the other concludes. This particular congregation holds the slot for the first service of the day.
My host requested an Uber ride, and as I have come to expect, we didn’t depart from their home until 8:30. Nothing runs on time here. It is the way life works and because it is expected, no one is upset by or fazed by tardiness.
Our driver was Elisha. It was being pronounced “Alysha,” which I found confusing since he was a young man and to me, that sounds like a girl's name. My host realized my confusion and explained that in their language our Elisha sounds like Alysha. Once he figured out who we were (Christians) and where we were going (church), he revealed that he too was a believer.
Elisha had strayed from God. His father, a pastor in a small village somewhere, had prayed for him. He fell from a tree and was not expected to live. I didn’t catch the circumstances that put him in a tree or what caused him to fall, but God saved his life. He was trying to get himself back on track spiritually. He was seeking God’s will for his life.
Elisha decided to cancel the next rides he had scheduled. When we got to the church he parked and came with us. He worshipped with us. Listened as I preached the gospel in the story of the Good Samaritan. He drove us to a second church service we were scheduled to attend as guests. Worshipped again. Listened to another sermon. We got him connected with a pastor of a small house church, someone who could work with him, disciple him, and help him find his way.
He said when I come back to his country to please come to his home village and visit his father’s church. We prayed over him. He went on his way.
Man makes his plans and God orders his way. I’ve slowly come to realize that delays and detours that seem to upset or derail our well-laid-out plans may be God’s way of getting us in a position to do something more important than accomplishing our goals.
