Our first real day in Dondo. I wake up to about 25 boys ranging in age from around 6 to 21 playing on the tire swing hung only yards away from my tent. I peak through the screen door and smile as I watch them…no wonder I was awakened by their noise. Boys are definitely not the quietest of the sexes. I walk past them heading for the bathroom and am warmly greeted, “Buen dia!” “Good morning!” “How are you?” As I pass by, I smile back and wave, “Very well, thank you! Good morning!” I call to them. I don’t stop though, I’m on a mission. The bathroom.
I’ve quickly realized there are three usable stations in every bathroom: the shower, the sink, and the toilet. Living in community like we do here on the World Race warrants every station to be full at
all times. You learn not to flush when someone is in the shower beside you. It becomes customary to have morning conversations with the tooth-brusher from your perch on the throne. Nothing is sacred anymore and privacy is only a term we jokingly refer to as something that ‘used to be’ an option.
This month I’m honestly grateful for my little tent pitched in the sandy courtyard/playground here at Iris. In it I have a bit of a solace—a space all my own. Open up the screens and I see huge trees towering over me and the bustle of children playing on the other side. I’m pretty sure the emotion I’m currently feeling is JOY. I am here. Africa. I’m back to this place I fell in love with years ago.
This morning after our breakfast of a homemade (and delicious) bread roll and honey tea, a few World Racers met to pray. After a short moment of silence between prayers, I boldly prayed to have God’s heart for this place—that Jesus would come and work in me. It’s not about how great I am at ministry to a bunch of African boys or what I can offer here, it’s about me being the offering and the sacrifice. Me being willing to lay down on the altar and die so that He may live in me.
It was just a short little prayer, nothing fancy, but it was my heart. As I said the last word, the rain suddenly crashed down on the little mud church we were in. Torrents of little drops cascaded down and I shouted “Hallelujah!” remembering Jake’s prayer that the rains would be a sign of God’s blessing on this place. Yes. God is blessing this place and the rain is only a promise of that…a little view in the natural world what God is doing in the Spiritual world. Let it rain. Open the floodgates of heaven! Let it rain!
I walked over to the entrance to get a better look outside and joined a pastor who was also starring out. He looked over at me and said very matter-of-factly, “You brought the rains.” I looked back at him shocked at what he had just said with such assuredness. He said again, “Yes, you brought the rains. Yesterday there was no rain, but today you have brought it.” Not really knowing what to say I just asked, “Is that good or bad?” He smiled at me and nodded saying, “Oh, it’s very good.”
