Slayin’ that Mamble Jamble!

“Make a score! Make a score” they yell to me when I have an open shot at goal. I wish you could actually hear their accents yelling out as they coach me along. I’m horrible at soccer. But I was determined from the first practice with these guys, that I was going to push as hard as I could and learn as much I could, be as coachable as I could, and be as humble about it as I could so that I could end up playing with the boys, and earn my right to be heard. Soccer is respect, and somehow, out of all of this, I am now officially a professional soccer player out of only 600 million of them in the world. I’m registered into the FIFA databank. My name, Bryan Marsh – a crazy white Jesus boy from Kentucky- is going to be playing on a professional African soccer team, not a baseball team or a basketball team or a volleyball team or even any sport I’m good at, but a professional soccer team. Go G42! I never thought I would check that box off of my “Life Long Accomplishments” list. Thanks for the pointers Abby!

But it’s completely not about soccer, not one bit, that’s just some icing on the cake for me. What is so important about being registered on the team is that, like I said before, soccer is respect. I have earned my right to be heard. And earning the right to be heard by my teammates is such a big deal, because God’s been using me to feed them the Bread of Life. Without Jesus being the focus with the ministry, nothing would happen within these lives I’ve been ministering to. Soccer is just the tool, not the weapon. So we practice every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, every week, on the red dirt field. Games are on Saturdays and sometimes Sundays. Soccer is all these guys look forward to in life, but God has brought me here to tell them about life and life to the fullest. Every Wednesday, after training, after we are all sweaty and covered in dirt, I get to give them some Jesus. When Jon and I first started being a part of this ministry, they wouldn’t pass the ball to us, they wouldn’t even really talk to us (well the ones who could talk to us), they were scared of us, we were scared of them, and they wouldn’t listen to us, they were a rock wall and we came with sledgehammers. On those Wednesday nights, when we first got here, when it came time for us to share something, all of their bodies would turn away and their heads pointed to the ground, and even some would snicker, trying to hold in their laughter about us. We were weird white kids, which sucked at soccer and couldn’t understand any of what they were saying. I would have been laughing at me too. But now, after praying and praying and becoming legitimately real friends with them, I just wish that you could see their faces when I get to tell them about my savior, and see the relationships that are coming from the other people in the community, people I just hang out with when we’re at home.  It’s so awesome. I have earned the right to be heard. I wish you could hear all the inside jokes we have with each other. I wish you could see God working in their lives. I just wish you could be experiencing the things I am experiencing with this team especially. Bray, Biz, Cam, Anna, Reider, I wish all of us could all hang out with the boys. So please pray for them and me. Pray for conversation, like deep God talks. Pray for times that they can see and hear Jesus off the soccer pitch. Pray for humility within me that soccer never becomes more than what it is, and that my focus isn’t on scoring goals or not looking like a fool out on the field but that Jesus is the only focus. Pray that the Spirit just keeps smashing away at the walls they have built up. Pray the God just keeps speaking through me every time I say something to them. Pray for freedom, and against religion and the mindset that God means “go to church.” Pray that Jesus will draw them to the Father. Pray for conviction with us all, and vulnerability between them and I. Pray for brokenness.