Something to Smile About
by Bryce Whiting
The torn soccer ball caromed off a cement wall, took a lopsided bounce over a rock, and was gathered in by a bare brown foot. Skillfully the ball was drawn behind the player's other foot which in turn nudged the ball forward. He followed with a swift kicking motion, faking a shot on the flimsy jury-rigged 4 x 5 foot goal. The defender straightened and flinched, expecting a chest-high liner. Instead the left foot circled over the ball and (in an uninterrupted sequence) flipped it to a charging teammate who connected with it, firing it through a hole in the net. GOAL!
A cheer went up spontaneously as ivory whites lit up the happy dark faces. We had scored!
It always brought me pleasure to give my Togolese players an outlet from the grave lifestyles they endured. They had so little to cheer about these days.
Togo is a special little country on the coast of West Africa. Its tropical climate and peaceful state for years had made it a vacationland of choice for many Europeans, but by 1993 times were changing rapidly:
- Two attempted military coups against the president had failed;
- a nationwide strike, intended to upset his administration, merely succeeded in making hungry people hungrier and more desperate;
- the nation's currency, the CFA, was devaluated to 50% of its international buying power in a single hour, instantly making canned and packaged foods twice as costly;
- thievery increased as the struggle for survival intensified.
The eighth poorest nation in the world had just become poorer, and all within three months of our arrival.
My wife, three daughters and I arrived into this scene as missionaries and were greeted with two months of relative calm when without notice...bedlam! Machine guns were being fired right outside our house! We stayed indoors, thankful for heavy bolted doors and cement walls, finding refuge on the floor underneath the windows. By the end of four days, the coup lost its thrust and a halt was called to the action. Hundreds of people had died, many of whom were innocent.
Togo had so little to smile about. How much more could these people take? I knew that the Lord Jesus could bring to them an everlasting peace, but what was the best way to tell them? “Father, show me how to package the Gospel message for them.”
One fact of life is that in the worst of times children and young people will still look to play. The smallest item can make a toy, which makes a game, and a small crowd will gather. When the bullets stopped flying and people dared to hope for a period of calm, the young people began cautiously to play again.
Outside our house was an unmaintained dirt street. This was the neighborhood's soccer field. They came with bare feet, flip-flops, and worn-out shoes. Their ball was eight inches in diameter. Its plastic casing was caving and breaking apart, but there was always a line of players who were waiting to get into the game.
I had played on a soccer team all through college and had even done some coaching in public schools. God didn't need to nudge me very hard for me to hunt down a store which sold soccer balls. I wish that I could describe the joyful reactions which followed when I interrupted their game one day by throwing them a soccer ball—a real soccer ball! I had become the new local hero.
They soon learned that I was little interested in heroism. I was more interested in playing with them. I have no trouble thinking that the Lord Jesus would have been a soccer player. Our Father, who enjoys his children fully, does not limit his joy by merely sending us out to play. He instead wants to play with us. The Togolese children were honored by my participation.
So we played. And we laughed. Games took on a higher degree of fairness as they looked for me to settle disputes with integrity. They enjoyed seeing that the “Yovo” (white man) could “take them to school” once in awhile, and they were thrilled whenever they could fool me with their amazing skills.
Word got around that our neighborhood had a soccer ball and other neighborhoods began showing up to challenge us.
“Bryce, will you be our coach?” What a pleasure! I had one simple requirement. I wanted to tell them before our practice sessions about the One who enjoys them fully; the One whose love they cannot earn because His love is free. That same God wants to be their Father and to receive them into His family.
I think today of the soccer ball which brought smiles to their faces for a season of their lives. I think also of a Father who gives much more than that. His plans for them include a home with everlasting peace. That surety brings a smile for eternity. In spite of war, poverty, and an unpredictable future, Togo does have much to smile about.
Bryce Whiting served as a missionary with YWAM for six years in Switzerland and Togo. He currently pastors Newsong Christian Church in New Hampshire.
Unless otherwise noted, all materials on the urbana.org web site are Copyright InterVarsity Christian Fellowship / USA. All rights reserved.
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