It happened in May right after the Boston bombings. My heart started to break for something other than myself.
I watched the news on CNN and followed the entire story. I felt like I knew the families that lost their loved ones. It wasn’t just numbers rolling across my television screen; those were real people that died. When I read the local news about suicide bombings in my country after that, the numbers were no longer just stats. I cried for the little village that was wiped out in Borno state. I cried for the people that the Boko Haram sect murdered in North Nigeria every single day. I cried for the Nigerians like myself who were now desensitized. I mourned for the hearts that had stopped breaking.
So I packed up my shattered heart and dumped it in God’s lap.
Heal my country, God!
God, do something! You can’t just sit back and let all these innocent people die every day!
His reply wasn’t anything close to what I expected.
God led me to the book of Nehemiah and through tear-filled prayers, He revealed that He wanted Nigerians to meet together physically or virtually to pray for 10 minutes on a specific day every month. It sounded like a flashmob idea and by the end of the day I had “Nehemiah Project Prayermobs” scribbled in my journal. He was calling me to start. He was actually calling me to start something. So for about three weeks I tried to wish that answer away and prayed some more. I was expecting something more…tangible, practical, revolutionary – but He kept whispering “prayermobs” in my ear.
I finally obeyed Him, remembering God’s “faithful in little” policy.
It’s been 7 months since I obeyed Him and I’m glad I did. The mission He gave me looks nothing like I expected, is not as huge as I expected it to be and, surprisingly, is through me instead of someone more gifted, spiritual, eloquent, qualified. Somehow in my warped mind, I figured that since God had called me, the unqualified, to do it, I’d study and work to get myself qualified “on the job.”
I’d make it huge.
I’d make it trend.
I’d make it popular.
And the whole world would know about Nehemiah Prayermobs. I wanted to buy my qualification for the job. I wanted to do all these things to be qualified. Third month in, I was as frustrated as ever, back at His feet breathing a tired, “It’s not working, God.”
He gave me the most life-giving reply through a friend of mine: “Success isn’t the stats or how much media attention you’re getting. Success is obedience to God in that thing He has called you to do. Forget the stats.”
He’s not looking for a performance; He’s looking for obedience.
So if obedience means I keep organizing these virtual and physical mobs every month no matter how many people show up, I’ll keep obeying.
If obedience means giving up my quest for recognition, I’ll keep obeying. One day at a time.