This past Sunday we had the chance to join our host, Pastor Kenny, at his church. As soon as I saw it, this place of worship, I was overwhelmed. The only way I can explain it is to call it a barn but really, that’s not even close to what it actually is. Wood beams held together by other wood beams, a few tin tiles covering portions of the roof, and curtains covering portions of the walls.
I was overwhelmed by the presence of the Lord. He was so present in that place.
As Christmas is quickly approaching, every fiber of my being has been fighting it. I have been feeling so out of place knowing that I’ll be celebrating Christmas away from family without 25 years of traditions, in a climate that is unlike anything like I have experienced during the month of December, and in a culture that feels the furthest from home. I have almost been hoping to skip right over the feelings of Christmas, just wanting to skip it this year altogether.
My prayer this past week has been that The Lord would open my eyes to ‘holiday cheer’ here in Zambia, even though it looks nothing nothing like what I have experienced before.
Let me tell you friends, that day walking up to that stable, if you will, to church I was hit with remembering that Christmas, the birth of our Lord and Savior, was quickly approaching.
“And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” Luke 2:6-7
As we stood in that place, clapping and singing along to such joyous worship, I sat and listened to Pastor Kenny and felt his undeniable JOY. I was so overcome by The Spirit, frequently having to wipe the few tears away that I was unable to contain. The Father is not above meeting His people wherever they are when they seek Him. The Lord perfectly planned the birth of our Savior in a place no one was expecting the savior to be born, a manger. I was not expecting to be met in that stable this past Sunday. Yet there I was, smelling manure, swatting flies away, awkwardly clapping along to worship being sung in a language I couldn’t understand, saying “thank you, Father, thank you” over and over.
Thank you for reminding me of the most humble birth of my Savior.
Thank you for filling a church constructed of of the most humble materials, for meeting people exactly where they are.
Thank you for reminding me of the birth of your Son, my Savior, and of the Christmas season.
