Chapter 27 - The Empty Briefcase

“It is of the LORD’s mercies that we are not consumed,

because his compassions fail not. They are
new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.”

—Lamentations 3:22–23

The year was 1985, and we were living in

Abengourou, planting a church in this town of
five thousand people. It was the first of the month
and time to go to Abidjan to purchase supplies and
to retrieve the money that was wired to the bank
monthly. However, we had exhausted our funds and
did not even have fuel to make the trip.
    At a nearby gas station, the owner agreed to loan
us a tank full of diesel that we could repay upon our
return. This was a huge blessing, and we loaded our
Peugeot sedan for the trip. For reasons unknown to
me, I threw my empty briefcase into the car. Puzzled,
Linda asked, “Honey, why are we taking an empty
briefcase with us?”
    I replied, “I don’t know, except I just have a
feeling we need to take it with us on this trip.”
    The road to the capital was a recently paved road
in good condition, so the trip took only two hours.
When we arrived in Abidjan, the traffic was lighter
than usual, with no traffic at all downtown. We
began to wonder what was going on; usually there
was traffic everywhere, but today there was none.
When we arrived at the bank, we were surprised and
shocked to find it closed. Today was a holiday that
we had not known about.
    Now we were in a real dill pickle. What were
we going to do? We had no money, and we had not
eaten beforehand, since we had planned to eat at
our favorite place, Super Chicken. All our hopes of
obtaining our money and supplies on this day were
dashed in a second.
    Linda commented she would like some crushed
ice. It was free at Super Chicken, thus we headed
that way. We approached a blinking yellow light;
nothing was coming, so I made a left turn. Soon,
however, a police officer pulled me over and asked
to see my license. I showed him my international
driving permit, and he remarked, “You know why I
stopped you, don’t you?”
    “No, I do not,” I replied.
    “Well, you ran that yellow light back there,” the
officer said as he reached for my permit. Taking it
from me, he put it into his hat and then put his hat
back onto his head. Then he continued, “You can
come down to the police station tomorrow, pay a
fine, and get your driving permit back.”
    I was quite familiar with the driving rules in
Ivory Coast, and the law said you only needed to
slow down for a blinking yellow light. If nothing
was coming, you could proceed. I relayed this to the
officer, but all he said was, “I’m the law here, and
you do what I say.”
    By this time, I was a bit perturbed, to say the
least. The bank was closed and we could get no
money, and now this police officer was trying to
obtain money from us unlawfully. Then the officer
informed me that we could not just sit there in the car
but would have to move on. Well, I was not going to
leave without my permit; plus, I let him know that
we had no money, which he did not believe.
    I moved the car around the block to a parking
space, asked the family to pray, and then went back
to the officer and sat on the curb near him. Ever so
often he would debate the issue of the yellow light,
but I continued to maintain that I had not broken the
law. I wasn’t trying to be bullheaded, but I knew I
had not done anything wrong. Plus, I needed my
permit to drive; I did not want to risk being stopped
again and not having it.
    After sitting in the hot sun for an hour, I looked
down the road and saw many cars and people
approaching. All of a sudden, the police officer ran
over to me, took off his hat, gave me my permit,
and told me to go. When the parade came by, it was
the president of Ivory Coast. I smiled to myself and
thought, “Thank You, Lord, for sending the president
by today!” I returned to my car and told my
praying family what had happened, We all praised
the Lord for His deliverance.
    We were now headed to get the free crushed ice.
As we drew near the chicken place, the aroma of
the fried chicken filled the air. It smelled delicious,
but we had no money. It was past lunchtime, and we
were all as hungry as a bear that has just come out of
hibernation. I parked the car and walked into Super
Chicken to get the ice, the delicious aroma filling
my entire body. I would have given anything for
some of that chicken! I walked to the counter, and
a taller-than-usual man who spoke perfect English
turned to me and asked, “Do you have a briefcase?”
    Taken aback, I finally gathered my thoughts and
replied, “As a matter of fact, I do.”
    “I’m trying to make a fast-food commercial
about a businessman running into my restaurant,
getting his food really fast, and then heading back
to work,” he explained. Then he continued—and
this is the part that is really unbelievable—and said,
“If you will let me use your briefcase to make this
commercial, I will feed you and your entire family
all the chicken, french fries, and beverages you can
eat and drink.”
    “You have a deal!” I enthusiastically agreed.
    Quickly running to the car, I opened the trunk,
grabbed the briefcase, and ran back inside before
the man could change his mind. Then I went out
and told the family what God had done. They could
hardly believe it. It was still hard for me to believe,
too.
    We all headed into the restaurant and watched
them make the commercial. When they were
finished, the owner returned my briefcase and
instructed us to go up to the counter and order anything
and all we wanted. We thanked him, and boy,
did we load up on the food! We knew we would
have nothing more until the next morning when we
could get some money from the bank, so we seized
the opportunity before us.
    My, but that fried chicken tasted like a big T-bone
steak! That day in Africa, we discovered that the
God we served is the same anywhere in the world.
It didn’t matter where we were; He always met our
needs. What a Mighty God we serve!

(Copyright by Jay B Ayers)