Why North Africa? (A Life-Long Calling)

Spring break, 2008. Casa, North Africa. A new beginning...

As twilight approached, my senses were eased by the cool, ocean breeze. With the hot African day fading to memory, the city lights would soon signal the evening meal. I crossed over what seemed to be an endless field of solid marble slabs. Only in visions of the pearly gates would I have conceived of such an elegant court. And yet, this was just the beginning. As I walked, the looming wonder consumed my horizon. Filled with awe at the sight of this beautiful work of architecture, my gaze remained fixed as I approached my destination.

Gripped by the type of wonder that men wait lifetimes to experience, I passed through mammoth sized, key-shaped arches that would make any man feel small and insignificant. Entering a large, open-air auditorium, a set of larger-than-life double doors beckoned to curious onlookers from the bottom of the steps. These doors opened to a vast sanctuary into which one such as myself could only peer from the outside. At the center of this wonder stood the third largest minaret in the world stretching out towards the emerging night sky.

I wandered as far as was permitted and stood by the doors to further observe the various sights surrounding me. My heart warmed to see families enjoying their time together, little children walking hand in hand with mothers, and small, scattered groups of youths enjoying the final rays of the sun as it passed into the Atlantic. A small boy darted by me with an older companion quickly gaining on him. The little one made a quick juke to head up the stairs before being tagged by the older child, who immediately ran in the opposite direction. I mused at memories of my own childhood and warm summer days of exerting endless energy on the universal game of tag. Pleased with my experience, I continued alone back through the arches out to the railing that overlooked the ocean. The relaxing scene seemed to invade even to the depths of my soul.

An abrupt call to prayer quickly brought an end to the innocence into which I had delved. Mothers began leading their children toward the ominous chanting. People who had seemingly come out to enjoy fellowship after a hard day's work now migrated by droves into the mosque. As I stood in the empty court, the reality of what had originally felt like a dream was now a nightmare in my mind. I had been deceived. This was a nation deceived.

Spiritual warfare is a tricky thing that has a variety of manifestations. In my travels, one place in particular stands out as a powerful source of spiritual warfare. A few years ago I walked through one of the largest Hindu temples in the world, located in Calcutta, India. Passing through this dark place, the oppression of evil was something for which I could have never prepared. Feelings of claustrophobia, fear, loneliness, and even physical sickness assaulted me with ineffable force. After this experience, I thought I knew spiritual warfare.

But this, this was different. The truth that this great structure was actually an islamic mosque had not set in with me. I had shared in the joy of happy families. I had laughed with small children and their games. I had admired the life, culture, and values of these everyday people. But everything I observed boiled down to one thing: Muhammed as the servant of Allah. The lie of islam that had enslaved these people had taken a momentary hold on me.

Islam is everything in North Africa. Islam is the center of life and culture, from the first sights of a young child to the last breath of an old man. Children grow up knowing nothing else. They are not permitted the freedom to seek any other way. As I pondered this truth, I could not evade the question: "who else will tell them?" At that moment, the Lord laid on my heart a life-long calling. In this corner of the world, darkness reigns through a very intricate, yet covert, conspiracy of lies. A gospel witness is desperately needed. My part is to be that witness. If no one else comes with me, this remains my calling. This is my mission and I choose to accept it.

"How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have not heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, 'How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!'"
Romans 10:14-15