This article was written by a mission partner serving in a sensitive location.

A letter written by *Elliot, a mission partner serving in *Lunisia, to *Jim, a mission partner serving in *Hadjistan.

Dear Jim,

It was so good to get your letter and hear about your first six months in Hadjistan. Sorry to hear about your health challenges – I’m happy you’ve adjusted to the heat and local mealtimes, but maybe you shouldn’t go in for street food so often! The food here is delicious – Lunisians are great cooks, lots of spicy rice dishes with fish, chicken, beef or just ‘meat’ (which tastes surprising like a hog roast). It sounds like you’re progressing well with Hadjistani grammar. I banged my head against the grammar wall for three months before working out that memorising set sentences or local proverbs was more effective for my grammatically incompetent brain. 

It’s so nice that your neighbours are open and welcoming. I find it challenging to see how people here are so quick to share the little they have. Though I have noticed they are quicker to share with us than with other Lunisians. Do good friends borrow money from each other in Hadjistan? They do here. So different to our financial stoicism back home! Another difference is how quickly people want to talk about God, or their Muslim brotherhood. Do you have brotherhoods in Hadjistan? They are very influential here.

You asked about our outreach. Now that my language has picked up, I find conversations get beyond the greeting stage. Last year I walked round markets trying to chat with people. I’d often get offered a cup of ‘tea’ – jasmine, mint, cloves and a bucket load of sugar. It’s a real ceremony. Accepting three rounds of tea and chatting for hours seems like good evangelism, although I should probably invest in a blood sugar monitor. But while conversations were easy to come by, they usually revolved around my foreignness (‘You speak Lunisian well, help me go to England. I need money.’). So, after some months of market wandering, I started thinking about doing something different. One morning I walked through a pop-up market. On a whim, I rented a stall for £25 for 12 days and set up with some Scripture portions, a tablecloth and a chair. I had a severe case of butterflies, but I made myself sit there sweating for an hour. At 10am, other stall holders began to open up and came over to greet me – and then the magic happened. 

With a glint of curiosity in their eyes, each of them asked: ‘What are you selling?’ No questions about money, no requests for help to go to the West. And because the only thing I had for sale was Scripture portions, even I couldn’t stuff it up. ‘This is the book of Moses’, I said, ‘Have you read it?’. And pointing to a gospel in Lunisian, ‘That is the life of Isa (Jesus)’. This led to short, on-the-spot Bible studies and quite a few sales, though not much profit…! I’ve found the sooner the gospel gets naturally introduced into a relationship, the better. Otherwise, it feels awkward to bring it up later. Since then, that’s what I’ve been doing: sitting, selling books at cost price and speaking about God’s word. Who knows if it’s a good long-term strategy – but it’s starting conversations about Jesus/Isa and
I’ve already had a few longer Bible studies with Muslims who’ve returned for more. 

Remember how they’d drum on about the power of God’s word before we went? Well, I’m glad they did because if this endeavour rested on the power of my persuasion in Lunisian, I’d need to pack my bags tonight. There’s no speedy silver bullet ‘strategy’ – it’s only the daily ‘plod’ of (haltingly!) talking to people about salvation in Jesus that will make a difference. 

How have you been? What outreach have you tried? Have you learnt any proverbs in Hadjistani? Tell me about the wedding you were invited to. Praying for your language study and your patient endurance in the slow work of seed sowing. 

Yours, 

Elliot

* Name of people and locations have been changed.