Blog — PAMELA BROWN-PETERSIDE

Honored to have Propel Women share my blog post in their July Newsletter. You can find it below.

ARE YOU THERE, GOD? IT’S ME.

I have always been intrigued and perplexed that I don’t always sense that God is with me and for me ---even though Jesus told his disciples before he left them:

And surely, I am with you always, to the very end of the age (Matthew 28: 20).

In fact, I have had long seasons, some that stretched out for months, where I tried to show up and meet with God each day—prayed, read scripture, tried to recall verses I’d memorised, attended my small group, and joined other believers on Sunday for worship --- but I wasn’t convinced God was (really) there. Or, if he was there, I didn’t think he was paying much attention to me or my particular problems and needs. It happened without any warning.

God just seemed to go silent, and I could never quite understand this.

Why would the God who has called himself my Father and adopted me into his family (Romans 8:15) as his precious child through what his dearly loved son Jesus has done (John 3:16), go quiet all of a sudden?

LOSING GOD IN MIDLIFE

One of the most dramatic times of God’s silence was soon after I turned 40. Burned out from an AIDS job in the South Bronx in New York where I was living at the time, God opened up a chance for me to volunteer with missionary doctors in rural Uganda. They’d started an incredible program to prevent the transmission of HIV from pregnant mothers to their babies and invited me to join them for three months. Flying into the district in a single engine mission plane over spectacular lush mountains, I fell in love with the people, the place and the work. But the love affair began to unravel quickly when I learned in my first week the doctors I’d gone to work with would be leaving. And I’d have to take over as Acting Director.

Some people might’ve been thrilled at this opportunity but all I felt was disappointment, fear, and sadness all at the same time. Though I was an African and had grown up in Nigeria and had advanced training in public health, this was not what I had signed up for. I definitely didn’t want to be in charge.

Had God brought me all the way here for this? Where was God in all of this anyway?

IN THE SILENCE, GOD HELD UP A MIRROR

Those were difficult, lonely weeks. I did a lot of pouting and then it got worse. I got sick and slipped into a spiritual depression. It was a painful time and the ugliness of my heart was laid bare. However, what that experience did teach me is that God sometimes “leaves” us so that we can face ourselves. He gets out of the way to expose spots we’d otherwise remain blind to and to bring into sharper focus our misconceptions about him. I can still recall my face flushing with heat when flat on my back, weak, and feverish, I began to gain clarity about my selfish ambitions, my driven-ness and my overdeveloped sense of responsibility. That hurt and I felt naked and exposed, but my vulnerability also became a significant turning point for me toward growth and emotional health. By the time my body recovered, those wounds in my soul were starting to heal as well, but that process took much longer. Still, I returned to New York more humble and more self-aware.

In recent months, I’ve been thinking of those lessons learned on the other side of the globe. I have not been alone in sometimes sensing that God has gone quiet, or wondering whether he really sees us in the midst of all the losses and uncertainty we’re encountering. Perhaps you, too, are asking if God really cares, and if he is really with you?

Rest assured he is with you.

Remember, he promised he will be with you always. That said, in this unsettling, and perhaps quite unfamiliar place, what might God be inviting you to face? What might he be challenging you to really look at and see for the first time? Might he be nudging you to pay more attention to something you’ve sensed was there but now you have an opportunity to see it in a renewed way?

SAY YES

The time for you to respond to this invitation from God might be right now.

To answer the call isn’t necessarily going to be easy. To move beyond ourselves, we have to risk. We have to be courageous. But it will be worth it. Because God offers us a reward for risk.

Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. (John 8:32)

No matter how scary it seems, or how risky, it’s ultimately an offer to you to see yourself as you really are. He who has loved you with an everlasting love (Jeremiah 31:3) sees you all the way through and he loves you regardless. And in that strange way, to face yourself, is to take up God’s offer to move toward freedom and authenticity.

So, you may still be in lockdown or emerging from it, but the real question may be: do you really want to be free?

GUEST BLOG FROM THE DESK OF GRAHAM MILLER, CEO of London City Mission…

We live in a world of increasing diversity and complexity that defies the simple labels that the media provide us with. I have the appearance of a white middle-aged male, but I have spent half of my adult life living in Asia and follow many Asian habits. My pale skinned daughter was born in Beijing. I work on a team with people from Africa, Asia and Europe but all of us would call ourselves Londoners. The leaders of the mission agency I work for include a former burglar and an Oxbridge graduate who has been a leader in a private equity firm. Both would call themselves evangelical Christians. My grandparents grew up in a village surrounded by people who looked and sounded just like them. My children go to school in an area where white British kids are in the minority.

It is within this maelstrom of cultural diversity that I have met my dear sister, Pamela Brown-Peterside, a citizen of the world. Pamela was born in Nigeria and truly understands the Nigerians who work for our charity but has a Northern Irish mother and feels very at home talking to the young Presbyterian volunteers who have moved from Belfast to volunteer with us in London. Pamela has a PhD in public health from New York and feels comfortable mixing with American academics but is equally happy to work with marginalised women attending our ministry in the East End of London. Immigration and cultural diversity were once seen as a curse of urban living, but we have come to know that the bringing together of cultures and peoples from around the world in our communities, in our work places, and in our churches is a thing of great beauty.

In recent years, the country in which I live has been divided by issues of national identity. What started as a discussion of whether it is best to govern the UK on a national or supranational basis quickly escalated into an argument over whether Polish, Bangladeshi and Nigerian people should feel at home in our land. It grieves me that London, which has always seemed a cosmopolitan, vibrant, fun-loving city, has seen increasing reports of racial hate crimes and discrimination. Some have said that this blatant racism is simply a reflection of hidden feelings that have long been hidden under a veneer of political correctness. Whatever the truth of such suggestions, the unleashing of populist nationalistic fervour on the streets of London, Charlottesville and Delhi are unwelcome developments that people of good character should stand against. By illustrating what can be learned from international co-operation, books like African Pearl show what a lie the nationalistic ideal is and remind us of the old-fashioned Christian love for our neighbour that we are all called to.

My sister, Pamela, is indeed a pearl from Africa – a thing of beauty forged by persevering amidst the pain and difficulty of many different experiences. Her life is just one illustration of humanity’s remarkable, creative struggle. As a Christian, I see this as part of God’s plan to bring a beautiful people, an international family together out of dust – what the letter to the Ephesians describes as the “manifold wisdom”, or the “multi-coloured plan” of God that should be represented in the Church. It seems like the path to achieve that plan is often paved with missteps and difficulty, but there is beauty and friendship to be found along the way.

African Pearl is both emotionally touching and spiritually challenging. A reminder that the journey is often more important than the destination, and sometimes the real heroes end up buried too young. I am grateful to have been able to share this journey with Pamela for a while through the pages of this book and walking the corridors of London City Mission.

Find Graham on Twitter @Windy_London