What’s an impossibility? No, I’m not going to go all Webster on you (though I do often appreciate when others do) I’m just curious about our scope into what is “doable” and how we define things that apparently “aren’t”.
I thought bringing a few thousands books into a war torn state would be crazy. And hey- if not crazy, at least difficult…
The process was about 14 months. I had preached at a church in Canada and mentioned Albert Einstein’s quote:
“If you want your children to be brilliant, read them fairytales. If you want them to be REALLY brilliant, read them a lot of fairytales.”
It was then that I expressed my dream to have every one of our schools containing a library. Realizing I only work in war zones or brothels, I guess it could be seen as “ambitious” but my audience didn’t think so. (Thank you ROA!) They got it. “Brilliant kids!” Makes sense. They became set on a mission and raised 3,000 books for the dream and shipped them over to Africa.
It wasn’t quite that simple but you get the gist. Over a year later and I stood at a Food For the Hungry storage facility (thank you guys too!) and looked at the containers carrying so many dreams for so many of my chiclets.
That’s when it hit me. Hmm. I wonder how we do this? Bribes, harassment, logistics, finances… any of these obstacles could seem daunting. One step at a time I guess?
So one foot in front of another, my team and I rented a truck, bought some sandwiches and a coke and drove through Rwanda to the DRC border. It was a SLOW ride up and down Rwanda’s thousand hills with country music cutting in and out of the half broken car stereo. Bad, country music.
Because our ride was SO slow we arrived at the border late. It was getting dark, pouring rain, we were 15 minutes away from it closing for the night and books aside, I didn’t even have my visa yet.
There was talk of me sleeping in Rwanda, though I had no clue where, there was talk about the books sleeping in Rwanda, though we didn’t have money for that. One foot in front of the other? We decided to move on tiny leaps of faith and pray all the right doors opened. I left Rwanda listening to the guy lecture me about “If they don’t let you in, I’ve stamped your passport, you can’t come back. What would you do?!” Great question.
Arriving like a wet poodle on Congo’s doorstep for some reason I was greeted like family. Literally embraced by the authorities as they apologized for my dripping clothes. “It’s the rainy season!” they explained.
Our books had the same welcoming. One after another a porter carried box after box of children’s books across to their new home. It was brilliant. I literally squealed with delight as the containers were dropped into the puddles at my feet. Paper work—easy. Finances, a breeze. It couldn’t have been more simple. (Not to mention, we got MORE hugs and tons of thanks for thinking of Congo’s children)
So what is “impossible”? Because we haven’t done something does that mean it can’t be done? Who are we to be hopeless?
Just because we haven’t seen a nation changed in a day, does that mean we should see it as a daunting task?
DRC, Somalia, Syria, North Korea… Who’s to label them “impossible” and who’s foolish enough to believe that?
I know, I’m starting to go all soapbox on you. But if his strength is found in our weakness, it’s as if we’re set up for this. Like we were born with it in our DNA. So “impossible” really isn’t “impossible” it’s just a task waiting for an adventurer to put one foot in front of the other and discover, we actually have really little to do with it. We just dream and trust. Dream and trust. Like children in our papa’s arms. And although I guarantee that there will be bumps in the road and the occasional twangy country music, in the end—it’s just all part of the adventure so seeing the impossible, made possible.
