37. Samson

Samson

He arrived this morning at the breakfast table and looked and smiled at us all. One instantly knew he could “see” deep- this giant of a man with the name of Biblical strength. He sat down across from me and next to Ken.

He looked at me across the table and gently said, “Lenore, what is your story that got you here?” So I told him the story of Ken and me and why we are here- this time. “Tell me of the other time,” he quietly asked and looked at Ken. Ken shared our past story. He then turned and eyed another table mate but …

“Wait,” I said, “tell us your story and why you are here!” He looked at me. “I have shared it before here at MPH. Don’t you know it?” Samson asked. “I have almost always been at another table or at the other end of the table from you,” I reminded him. I instantly just knew it would be a moving story. And so -here is the rest of the story.

“As you know,” he began, “I am from Johannesburg, South Africa. I am a Black South African. I am one of those four South Africans that you, Lenoree, have welcomed four times now with that gracious  American Southern hospitality, your big as Texas smile and those ”Yes, Sirs!” I have listened to you and Mr. Ken as you have talked to the guests at the table, in the Living Room areas and when guests checked in-when you did not realize I was listening. You are both Children of God! You are both Africans! You are both true!”

Well, now I wasn’t sure where this man was headed. I had asked for his story and he spoke of us. He seemed to be able to see very deep into my soul- almost- weird! I felt like a bug under a microscope. Pinned!

He took a deep breath and in a soft, South African, lilting accent he began.

“I was raised from birth,” he said, ”and trained as I aged to be a tribal Witch Doctor.” Well, that stopped all table conversation! “ WOW!” I commented as the table sat stunned. (What is the polite, gentile, “Southern hostess” response to that statement at a breakfast table? Don’t think even Bonka had a response for that one! ;) I surely had no training for it!!)

With a twinkle in his eye he smiled at me in the stunned quiet. I had responded in an honest fashion and he was not offended. So I muddled on.” Samson, how old are you?” I ask. Someone had to say something!! And that just came out of my mouth.

“Sixty–five” he responded. “However, I have been God’s man, Samson, for only forty years.” He then softly continued his saga. “When I decided to leave my birthright job I became a wanted man. I decided to leave South Africa for awhile- they only wanted me- or so I thought. I left my wife and children and went to work on my PhD in Canada. I told them they would be safe with me gone. The tribe was angry and tribal fighting ensued. The white South Africans also became involved in the issues. They were all mad at me and I was not there. I was across the ocean safe. I gave an interview to the University Paper in Canada about the issues in South Africa. The article was reprinted in South Africa. They thought I had turned on my country. Since they could not get to me personally they hit where they knew it would hurt me the most. A white farmer killed my only son.”

Well, if the witch doctor statement didn’t shut the house down this statement did. We all sat in disbelief. Even I was at a loss for words!

He continued with tears on his cheeks, “I had two models I chose to emulate -God and the loss of His only Son and Nelson Mandela.” And so I continued to live. I could not yet return home. My wife and girls were smuggled out of South Africa to me. But Canada was not our home. South Africa is. So I began to work on a return.

I contacted the farmer who shot my son and told him I did not hate him. I did not blame him. He had not killed my son- a system had. I then prepared to return home to Africa.

I had a dream of schools taught by Christians. Not a Sunday School type school but a school taught by Christians from that country and trained to teach within their country’s culture. But I didn’t want to just do my home land. I wanted a larger challenge. The whole of the African continent- why not!! So I divided the continent into 9 regions and began in the most receptive areas. The ideas are working – kids are learning from loving Christian teachers from their areas of Africa. Later this morning I am meeting with the Minister of Education of the Congo- at his request- to look at doing this model in Congo. It will take 180,000-200,000 Congolese teachers to change the education in Congo. The minister has already admitted to me that what they are currently doing is not working. So we have gotten a foot in the door of this largest country in Africa. So if all goes well we will need to get a core Congolese training team trained, train trainers, and then train the teachers. Then the kids can be taught! God is good!

“However,” he continued, “I realized my other life- my past life-still needed to be dealt with. So I returned, met, and forgave the white farmer. I visited Mr. Mandela. As I re-settled with my family in my homeland I felt an evil still stirring. It wanted me still. To them I am a man who knows too much. I am a non-practicing but fully trained Witch Doctor. What happens if I use my trade for revenge on them?”

 No one at the table is heading off to work or to their rooms. We are frozen in time. A time we want to finish hearing about but don’t. Even the kitchen staff realized we were in the middle of something big. They did not come in to clear the table. They got very quiet.

“As you Americans call it- I was put on a hit list. So my family and I had to only eat food prepared by my wife. We had to watch out for each other. But it wasn’t poison that took me out. In 2002 it was a bullet from a “friend.” I saw what was coming and got my arm up to shield my chest. That is why these last three fingers don’t work and stay curled. The bullet passed through missing my heart and lungs. I lost- they say- 60 % of my blood. My home looked like a war zone! I was all but dead for a long time and I remember nothing. My wife and girls talked and talked to me. I began to fight. When I came to I told my wife I had to see this ”friend.”I had to forgive him. “But why, Samson?” she tearfully asked. “He tried to kill you!”  I tried to explain that he was not an evil man. It is the system! For me forgiveness is it!

 I did meet him. He was terrified. He knew of my Witch Doctor “powers” or so he thought. He feared even making eye contact with me. As I hugged him I had to almost hold him up. His body was convulsing with true fear! He could not even speak. I kept telling him that he did not shoot me. The system did! I forgave him and he wept in my arms.

“So I am now going on. I have Africa to teach! I am still on a hit list. But I am doing the work of the Lord. What more can a man ask than to act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with his God?”

Silence.

"Hallelujah! Amen and Amen!"