Canadian friend – Jerry Lout ⚬ Writer ⚬ Speaker ⚬ Mobilizer

When a rightly-fitted yoke is slipped about the burden bearers’ neck, there’s no cause for angst if the team partner formed and sustains the cosmos.

God speaks of his beloved apprentices as those who help lift the load of their fellow travelers*. Yet, even when the added “baggage” may seem far more than one can handle, the burden is lessened to near feather-weight once a pair of useful elements are brought into play.

Partnering and Practicing.

When Jesus stated in his near matter-of-fact way, “Without me you can do nothing”, he actually meant it.

The moment a disciple of Christ comes to terms with their sheer inability to push forward beneath the strain of a load, this is the kind of moment the Lord relishes. Why? Because he knows it is at just those times when we’ve run out of gas or we’ve run dry or we’re about to run for the hills, that we are most ready for his partnering to kick in. God never has meant for us to labor and toil for him from our feeble strength nor out of a straining fortitude.

Jesus calls us friends.

What are friends about? A friend shows up. A friend partners with us amidst our most desperate, most crushing seasons. Their quiet presence alone is often enough.

A friend is also one who knows how to laugh with us, long and hard. Tears flow. They spring this time not from sorrowings – but from sheer, unimpeded, pull-out-the-stops delight over some surprise happening or experience. Possibly through a side-splitting joke, or from one of those shared memories that suddenly blindsides the funny bone.

On the recent birthday-Monday, along an Okmulgee street I was in the midst of a small company of friends sharing a sweet moment of laughter. Not of the knee-slapping kind but one of the kind that leaves the heart strangely warmed. Our little band had just taken part in a short prayer-walk in the “bubbling brook” city of my youth, when somebody caught word it was my birthday. A melodic voice struck a chord. The springy melody was underway, “Happy birthday to you. . . !”

Friends praying – and singing – and laughing. Flowing from the Spirit of the dearest Friend ever.

Klak. Klak. Klak. Klak.

The sound of an archery bow thumping a bedroom window deep into the night is one not easily forgotten.

Our watchman’s smokey voice joined the klacking sound outside, pronouncing my surname as best he could, “Bwana Lauti, Bwana Lauti.”

At Nyamahanga’s second or third call I stirred. The bedside clock read 1:30 a.m.

“Bwana Lauti. . . Mama karibu kuzaa.”

The cement-plaster floor of our room felt cool to my bare feet. Flashlight in hand, I was soon exiting the room, “Honey, another ambulance run. A Mama has gone into labor.”

“Ok,” a sleepy voice murmured back. “Be careful.” it was a role-reversal of sorts – Ann, normally the late-night riser when a baby needed changing or fed.

A few minutes passed. I whispered a prayer as the father-to-be who had raised the alert, took his place in the passenger seat. We were off to fetch the missus, then get her to Kehancha.

Such “ambulance runs” had evolved as part of a naturally-assumed job description for any bush missionary. The assumption, we agreed, made sense, as mission personnel were among the scant number of people owning a motorized vehicle.

The race against time came pantingly close some nights over my three-plus years of free, on-call ambulance service. But I somehow outpaced the labor contractions with every midnight jaunt. The same was mostly true for Canadian friend Phil Harman of Suna Mission some distance away. Except one night. A good part of the next morning found him vigorously doing a scrub-down of floorboard and rear seat in his newly-christened VW Bug Delivery Room. Mother and newborn had fared just fine.

Over time we grew to wonder what next medical crisis could visit the compound. It was during such a period a young man appeared at our back entrance. Night had fallen. He stood bleeding profusely, leaning into the support of another man. The machete attack had found its mark.

Jesus help us.

Tag: Canadian friend

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