In 1997, we took the family out for a day to get away. As we drove we saw the cross at the top of a small mountain in West Africa, so we pulled over and hiked up to the the top of the steep hill. On top was a small "A" frame church with heavy carved wooden doors weathered by years of torrential rain and scorching African sun. We pushed the wooden doors open and stepped in to see that it was barren except for an alter stationed at the front. It was made from a single 6 inch thick piece of rough sawed African lumber about 4 feet wide. The small chapel was obviously not used, and it never was really used as a "church", we were later informed.However, so the story goes, the small chapel was built by a German Pilgrim. Many years ago he had come to West Africa in pilgrimage seeking the will of God about something. This German pilgrim, moved by what insight or work God had done in him while living and praying and studying in solitude on this hill, built this small place of worship and erected the cross for all to see miles in any direction. We could have seen 15 miles in every direction, except for the dust coming down from the dust storms of the Sahara Desert drifting down from the North.
It was one of the most touching places I have ever been. It moved me! I think I knew, in part, what questioning desires might have been in the heart of that pilgrim man. I realized the difference between him & I was simply that we sought answers & direction from God differently. Anyway, on the top of that hill, I made a connection with a German pilgrim whom I did not know, and a Father God whom I did know, in prayer.
When I finally pulled myself out of the place after praying in there, I made another immediate connection with yet another pilgrim. I came out and walked around back of the small Chapel to see Lynn sitting on the low stone wall that surrounded this place. She was watching the kids run and play. I stopped and looked at her with a heavy heart full of realization as I took this picture of her there. I was overcome by the realization that my dear sweet Lynn is a pilgrim, of the greatest kind, too.
This gracious, beautiful, and godly young woman (Click photo to enlarge) has made clearer to me the meaning of grace than any preacher I have ever heard. Why she did, I don't know; but she has followed me at my side to some of the dampest and driest corners of this earth. She has ministered by my side to hordes of kids in rain forest villages, and alone, when I was out in forest churches for days and days on end. Lynn was (is) an effective servant in her own right & capacity. I wondered why she followed me here to this hard African place. As I looked at her, I knew why she did- because like that unnamed German pilgrim, Lynn was a pilgrim too.
It has not been easy for Lynn, but I have never heard her complain about what this pilgrimage has called us to do, or where it has called to do it. Lynn continues to help me go back to Africa each year, even when I know it's hard for her home alone for weeks on end. Lynn is my constant encourager. Week after week, as I drag myself into the pulpit to speak a word of God, finding myself asking sometimes; "For what good?" Lynn reminds me for what good.
Since that day on that small African Mountain, I knew why Lynn did it all so graciously. Because she is a true genuine pilgrim, and she fully accepts that I am one too!
Together, we have once for all set our hearts on Pilgrimage, and I'm honored & blessed that God allows me the grace of walking with this one!
