The Other Strings

In September 2006, I arrived in Val-d'Or, Abitibi-Temiscamingue, Quebec, with great expectations. And September was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

I was fulfilling a dream: learning French, living in Quebec, positioned to “make a difference” in the world.

I had one overwhelming problem: I didn't know what difference to make, or how I could make that difference.

(OK, I also had other problems – like I'd never gone grocery shopping before and I didn't realize that bags get REALLY heavy when you have to walk home with them brimming full of meat and cans and frozen pizza. I knew how to cook but I didn't know how to cook a meal so everything was ready at the same time. I knew how to do laundry but I didn't know how to get grass stains out. So there were some things to learn...cough cough...understatement!)

But for all of these “problems,” God had solutions.

For the life problems, He answered me before I asked, by inspiring Gail Musselman to give me a book called “Help! Where's Mom Now That I Need Her?” as a going-away present. This answered about 97% of my questions. :) The rest, I learned by experience or by actually phoning mom.

For the deeper question of how to make my life matter, He had some deeper answers.

First, I spent some serious time in prayer, and every day God seemed to bring me back to John 15. “I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me, and I in you, the relationship intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant. Apart from me, you can't do a thing.” There it was. If I wanted my life to have an abundant harvest, if I wanted to make a difference, I had one thing to do: remain in Him, keeping the relationship intimate and organic. This was not the ground-breaking, world-changing task I dreamed of, but I knew it was the truth. "Jesus, You are My “raison d'etre” - my reason for being," I prayed. "If you brought me here to pray and worship You, that's enough."

September and October passed, with small glimpses of how I could be an encouragement to others here, but no earth-shattering revelations and much homesickness. When Krystal phoned me to say that she and her parents were coming to visit, I told her she was mean to lie to me and get my hopes up like that. But she wasn't lying.

Krystal and her parents came to search for her grandparent's old houses, churches, and friends. I tagged along and heard some incredible stories of her grandfather's work in the region. He had begun three churches, constructing the buildings himself. He had preached on street corners, telling others about the love of Jesus and God's plan of salvation. Although some turned to God, others turned on the preacher. He was beaten by angry crowds, subjected to insults, and even thrown in jail. Still, he persevered and God used him to establish His church in the region.

This is the jail where he was held

Krystal & me

The more stories I heard, the more I realized that my life and my passion was not the beginning of God's work in Quebec. He had been at work, years before I was born, calling people to Himself. Krsytal's grandfather had paid a high price to plant seeds of the gospel, but those seeds bore fruit that can still be seen today, in the fellowship of believers that exist in those towns. Pastors and evangelists have come from those churches, and God is bringing light to dark places.

God had called me to Quebec, but I was not the whole story. I was one string in a huge tapestry of a Master Weaver. Krystal is another string. Her grandfather is another string. I could see other threads beginning to come together: people I had worked with at camp, people I had met at church, people I had met at work. He has plans for something beautiful, and He had been working for a long time. His plan involves people, and it's bigger than I can imagine. His plan involves the whole world.