Faith Journey (Part 1)

We all find our path to God at different times of our life and in different ways. For me, it all started one night in Finland. 

It was the year 2003, and I was wandering in an apparent aimless fashion about Europe. At the age of fifty-six, I had reached the crucible of my life and was looking for some sign or direction that would give me a sense of purpose and fulfillment. I was in the port city of Turku, Finland awaiting the ferry that would take me back to Sweden on the coming day. It was early evening time and I had gone out from the hotel and was looking for a coffee shop. As I chanced to pass a store window, I could see within a gathering of people sitting around tables and one table in particular which was decked out as a coffee bar. I went inside.

Immediately upon entering the room I was graciously welcomed by several people who seemed not the least concerned that I was a stranger in their midst. However, when they learned that I was a foreigner and only spoke English, there was a sudden excitement as word of this spread around the room. I explained that I wasn't meaning to intrude, but I had seen from outside that coffee was being served, and I had decided to come in and ask if I might not purchase some. They laughed, and said that of course it was there for the taking. They further explained that this gathering was in fact a prayer group (Lutheran it turned out), and that I really should stay and be a part of their evening service.

Having excepted their coffee I could do little else without giving offense, so I settled down at one of the tables being accompanied by a tall gentleman who had assumed the role of my translator. Many people around the room began calling out questions to me: they wanted to know where I was from, why I was in Finland, what were my religious views, what did I think about President Bush and the war in Iraq, and so forth. I felt quite comfortable among this crowd and so answered their questions with absolute candor and in detail.

At last the prayer service itself started and after a lengthy prayer by the pastor, people around the room (and there were many), began individually to pray aloud. My translator kept pace and I was able to understand everything that was being said. At first most of the prayers were about the health and wellbeing of what I assume were family and friends, but suddenly all praying focused on me. There were numerous prayers being offered that I be granted the wisdom to find my path with God. I was deeply moved.

Returning to my hotel, I lay awake most of the night listening to voices inside of me telling me things I could only feel but not repeat. By the next morning I was absolutely certain that I had to go to Africa.