A cache is defined as “A collection of valuable items of the same type stored in a hidden or inaccessible place.”
I am so happy to have found a cache of tentmakers in the middle of Nigeria! Four hundred Adventist professionals—lawyers, doctors, engineers—who have organized themselves into a working unit to “evangelize the unreached of Nigeria.” Last week I returned from five reviving days with this fiery group.
Through a woman in Paris who had asked for online soul-winning coaching, our GoTential organization and I were introduced to this Nigerian gospel posse. They invited me to come and do 11 talks on tentmaking strategies, business as mission and workplace chaplaincy during their biennial conference. They were especially excited to have someone talk on these subjects as they had been practicing many of the concepts with no knowledge that others in the world church had interest or expertise in these very things.
Nigeria’s national language is English, greatly easing my visit. Upon arriving, I was assigned a young graduate to be my personal helper. His name was Smart. I liked that about Nigeria. Many of the people I met had names that made me think of their mother’s fondest hopes. A woman named Kindness came to me and asked for prayer. A man named Godswill preached. Another man I met was named Godspower. A girl named Peace led the singing. On a particularly stressful ride to the airport, I was encouraged when I learned my taxicab driver’s name was Promise. It was like living in the pages of Pilgrim’s Progress!
I have been to many youth rallies and other similar events. This was different. These were highly educated believers who already had clients in their portfolios and degrees on their walls. Despite their status, they saw their highest and most important role as servants of God. After the sermon on Sabbath, these Spirit-energized lay people postponed lunch and went out for two hours of distributing gospel tracts! This taught me about priority.
We sang and sang and sang. They seemed to know the SDA hymnal by memory. Praise was their pleasure. I know they had these hymns memorized, because though they had the words of the hymns on an overhead projector, the electricity went out often, and they would sing on in the darkness, even three or four verses deep in some rather obscure hymn like “Watchman Blow your Gospel Trumpet!” The volume never diminished.
Upon returning home, I found GoTential’s inbox loaded with emails from new people seeking international employment as tentmakers in the Middle East. I praise the Lord for this cache of rare treasure in Nigeria.
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