My final destination was Bujumbura, Burundi, Africa, but I had stops along the way in London, Doha, and Nairobi.
When I arrived in Nairobi, Kenya on Saturday morning, I needed to retrieve my luggage and then settle in for a long layover in the airport before my final flight to Bujumbura that evening. But before I could collect my luggage, I had to get through Passport Control. After handing my passport to the agent, he asked me one question: “You have a visa?”
It immediately struck me that I had not checked into the requirements for a visa for Kenya, in order for me to leave the secure area of the Nairobi airport.
“I have a visa for Burundi,” I answered.
“You need a transit visa,” the agent replied.
Resigned to my situation, I asked, “Ok. What do I need to do?”
“Twenty dollars,” he answered.
I handed the agent $20 USD. He stamped my passport, and I was on my way. Normally, obtaining a transit visa for Kenya involves filling out a long application form and submitting that with payment. I followed this procedure for my journey back home, but I was grateful to be excused from some of those requirements for this first arrival in Kenya.
The VIP Lounge
In the Nairobi airport, I met one of the other members of our ministry team, Dr. Sammy Muthini, a Kenyan pastor and professor with an amazing life story, who is also a powerful, engaging speaker. We were scheduled to be on the same flight to Bujumbura.
After our plane touched down in Bujumbura, we were greeted at the airport entrance by a man holding a card with our names on it. We were then escorted into the VIP lounge by the airport commander, who was saluted whenever he passed other officers at the airport. He took our baggage claim tickets and sent someone to retrieve our luggage. While we sat back and waited, we were served cool drinks from the airport restaurant on a silver platter.
Shortly, the door opened and Deputy Chief of State Protocol, Ambassador Albert Nasasagare, strode briskly into the lounge, greeted us, apologized for the wait, and took us to his car where our luggage was already being loaded. Because of the lateness of the hour, Ambassador Albert and his driver took us to the Royal Palace Hotel in Bujumbura, rather than drive us to Gitega Province to join the rest of our team that night.
Ambassador Albert (We called him Dr. Albert.) checked us into the hotel, gave each of us a private room, and promised to arrange for travel to Gitega in the morning.
Sunday
After a relaxing breakfast in the hotel’s open-air restaurant, a very official-looking gentleman met me in the hotel lobby. I knew that he must be important because he was dressed in a military-style uniform and had three gold stars on his shoulders. He introduced himself as the Police Commissioner and told me that he was sent by Ambassador Albert to drive us to Gitega to join the rest of our team.
Dr. Sammy Muthini and I climbed into the back seat of a customized pickup truck that was outfitted with seats on both sides of the truck bed. We were driven up the winding mountain roads to Gitega in this customized police/military vehicle. The Police Commissioner and his driver sat in front. Dr. Sammy and I sat in the back of the cab. Four armed machine gunners sat in the specially fitted seats on the back of the truck, two on each side, as we drove through the mountain villages at 90+ kmh, honking the horn most of the way.
At one point, the Police Commissioner had the driver pull over, and they switched places. With the Police Commissioner behind the wheel, we reached speeds of about 115 kph as we flew along the mountain roads, passing very close to cars, trucks, bicycles and people on foot.
We arrived at our team members’ hotel without much time to spare. After greetings were exchanged, and our thanks were conveyed to the Police Commissioner, we climbed into other vehicles and soon joined a few hundred Burundian brothers and sisters for Sunday morning worship at Eglise du Plein Evangile in Gitega Province.
Upon our arrival at the church, we were ushered up onto the stage at the front of the sanctuary. After a rousing and inspiring worship session, our team members took the microphones to speak words of blessing, inspiration and gratefulness for the opportunity to join with our Burundian brothers and sisters to honor God this Sunday morning.
After speaking, our team moved into a time of ministry to the people. We waited on God for direction about what to say and do next. A couple of times, my team members offered the microphone to me, but I declined both times. I was a bit distracted, and I was having a difficult time hearing God in that moment.
For some reason, memories of past offenses had come to my mind. I was remembering times when I had been hurt by people back in America, and anger was rising in my heart about these offenses.
And because of that, I could not hear God.
Quickly and silently, I forgave those people again for the hurts they had caused me, and then I was able to hear God clearly again.
Once I was able to “hear and see” again, I received a clear vision of a human digestive system. It was like looking at an illustration in a medical textbook. When I see images like this, I silently wait on the Spirit of Truth, the Holy Spirit, to bring meaning to the vision before I say anything. After waiting a moment, I felt that this vision was an indication that there were people with digestive problems who needed to be healed of these issues.
I motioned for the microphone, and asked for anyone who had digestive problems to come forward for prayer.
The altar area at the front of the church quickly filled with people, and our entire ministry team responded to pray for the needs of the people. We did not stay to hear any reports after the meeting, but I believe many people were touched by the power of God to relieve these health problems.
At the end of the church service, I was informed that it is customary for the guest ministers to leave first, so we walked down the main aisle of the church toward the back exit. As we did, we shook hands with just about everyone that we could reach. I reached out with both hands on both sides of the aisle to try to extend friendship and kindness to everyone that I could.
As we traveled to our rented house in Bujumbura, Lynda commented to us that she made a point of always reaching out with her right hand to shake hands with the people there because it is an offense to offer the left hand. I had not realized that, and I was immediately filled with regrets! My thoughts went back to everyone I had prayed for, and everyone I had greeted on the left side of the aisle as we were exiting the church. I know that I must have reached out to with my left hand to touch several people. I pray that they were not offended.
Lesson learned.
