When I was a senior in high school, I sensed a calling to go into youth ministry.

Central College did not offer a major like that, so I designed my own course of study — religion, adolescent psychology, teaching, etc. Twelve years later, another call emerged, this time to seminary. The call to ministry appeared gradually during the eight years it took to complete my Master of Divinity.

I was happily serving as a nursing home chaplain when I sensed a restlessness to be involved with something I can only describe as more “global.” Something to focus on as a mission to support. Experience had taught me to pay attention to such sensations, but also to wait patiently for what was ahead: a new kind of call.

Within months, my husband and I became aware of the Luke Society and their need for a team member to support their mission in northwestern Mali. My rusty French could be an asset to the Partnership Ministry Team working with Indielou Dougnon, based in Kayes. Like other Luke Society directors, Indielou was a medical professional serving people living in extreme poverty, while also sharing the gospel locally.

I traveled to Mali with two other ministry team partners to see if it felt like the right fit. We passed through the capital city of Bamako. When I came home and described the people and work I witnessed, we committed to supporting Indielou’s work.

Meanwhile I accepted a call to serve as pastor of a local Lutheran (ELCA) congregation. One day, as I walked through the fellowship hall during the women’s meeting, I noticed the video they were watching about Lutheran World Relief. The women in the congregation made quilts for that mission, so it was exciting to see the benefit of their work overseas. The woman in the video who received some LWR quilts was Bibi, the director of an orphanage in Bamako.

Hey, I thought, We travel through Bamako for the Luke Society. I wonder if I can go and visit that orphanage. I contacted Lutheran World Relief and set the wheels in motion to do just that. 

On our next Luke Society trip, our team members walked through the gate of the orphanage to meet Bibi and the children in her care. They stood lined up neatly in rows, eager to enjoy the feast prepared in celebration of our visit. It startled us to see all the children wearing t-shirts with my image on the front and “Hope for the Future” on the back!

Bibi asked me to greet the children and lead them in prayer. After regaining my bearings, I put together a few simple sentences for a prayer in French. Bibi led her guests to the roof for a delicious meal of goat and sweet potatoes. After the meal, she and I leaned together on the half wall at the roof’s edge and got acquainted. I felt a wonderful connection with her.

When I returned home, I prayed about that connection. I had the unmistakable sense that Bibi and I were to become more involved with each other’s lives, and that I could have an impact on her work. Gradually my husband and I sensed the Spirit calling me to provide spiritual and partial financial support for Bibi, while other people and organizations supported the orphanage itself. This, I realized, was part of the global call I had felt stirring.

On subsequent trips, I stayed with Bibi, extending my visits beyond my Luke Society responsibilities. She shared her dreams for the orphanage, which eventually came to fruition with the help from supporters in Africa and Europe, as well as a church in Sioux City, Iowa. I gave her a French Bible with many verses underlined that had been helpful to me. We laughed and cried as we told each other stories about our children.

Over the years, Bibi has stayed in my home, and we hosted her teenage daughters for several weeks. She relies on me for prayer and support. But the help goes both ways. I draw inspiration from her faith, joy, and determination, especially in times when I needed personal strength. Her love and friendship have enriched my life beyond anything I could have imagined. It feels as though God brought us together despite the miles between us. Even though we don’t talk often, our hearts are always close.

Bibi’s own story is remarkable. As a teenager, she met an American missionary couple who hired her to take care of their boys. They helped her to learn English and she spent a period of time in the United States. 

Running an orphanage in Mali is hard work. There is no governmental aid. A staff member embezzled funds. Bibi struggled with cancer for a year. Yet her passion and charisma are unmistakable, and have gained her many friends. She calls on them for the sake of the children entrusted to her. Once the Malian president’s wife sent several boxes of frozen fish. Bibi shared them quickly with grateful neighbors before they spoiled. I have called her “Fish Lady” ever since, and she calls me “Blue Lady” for my favorite color of clothing.

Those t-shirts with my picture on them? Eventually Bibi explained that she thought I was a celebrity. Never missing a chance to appeal to people she believes might have influence to help the orphanage, she found me on the website of the nursing home I previously served. She was astonished to learn that women could be Christian pastors!

One story, in particular, bears unmistakable signs of God’s hand. Hostile neighbors were threatening Bibi and her daughters, endangering their lives. While driving down the highway, my husband and I received a desperate Whatsapp message. Bibi and her youngest children had fled the country, landing in Accra, Ghana. They did not know where to go next. God knows why she decided to call me for help!

I told Bibi that I knew the Luke Society African Director who lived in Accra. I would contact him to see if he could help. All I had was his email address, but within minutes he replied — from a Luke Society conference in the Philippines. He gave me his brother’s phone number and told me that he would find a place for Bibi and her daughters. A Ghana–Iowa–Philippines connection only God could arrange.

Even though Bibi speaks English, I keep polishing my French, hoping to visit her again. For now, travel is not advised as Mali is in chaos. But our friendship does not wane.

As Maryann Radmacher wrote, “I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.” I am not the same having become close friends with a Malian woman named Bibi. The Spirit piqued my curiosity, and led me to the gift of an unexpected, delightful friendship.