So far Lesotho has been nothing what I expected it to be.
We entered into the country around 2 AM. All 26 of us, and all of our gear, were corralled into five white, five-person taxis to stay at a hostel in the capital, Maseru, for the night before taking on the two hours to our ministry in Malealea.
On the car ride into the mountains where we would be staying for the month with Africa 4 Jesus, we were told we would be tenting and that showers might be limited, among other details of the month. I caught myself in one of my downward negative thought spirals.
I had just come from a month of daily bucket showers, sleeping under a bug net as my blanket because it was too hot for anything else, a place where in introversion does not exist, one of us preparing and teaching a sermon every night, and more sadza and kale than I’d ever like to see again in my life.
I was exhausted, not ready for another month that would take everything out of me. So I was just finding anything to complain about in my thoughts as we drove along. Even though we were passing one of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever beheld, my thoughts were not amiable.
Then the Lord spoke very clearly to me.
“Shut up, Kelly Anne.”
I was not ready for that one. You never expect Jesus to tell you to shut up. But He knew what I needed to get my attention.
Alright, Jesus, I’m listening.
He proceeded to tell me this was indeed going to be another hard month, but by no means would I want for anything. By no means would I suffer, regardless of how few showers I took, or the lack of indoor plumbing I would experience for that matter.
This month He was going to show me dependence, contentment, and my ever favorite – rest. Five months in and you think I would have it all together by now, but that could not be further from the truth.
So as we drove along, I gained the perspective He planned for me. All it took was shutting myself up and looking out at the mountains He knitted together for me to see.
The first night there I nearly froze in my tent with my pathetic excuse for a sleeping bag. As this Florida girl began to complain about it the next night as the sun started going down again, I had at least three of my squad mates immediately and so freely give me extra sheets, blankets, sweat pants, and come-to-find-out-later-regretfully wool socks.
Just Jesus reminding me again, to shut off my negative thought train. Only this time from the love of the people around me.
But what was such a wonderful gesture of love turned sour about an hour later as my feet and hands began to feel like they were on fire. I’ve never been allergic to anything, but being a Florida girl and never experiencing what an actual winter feels like, I have never had a need for or experienced the terror that is wool.
I guess the wool really did its job. With my feet being on fire, they were no longer cold. Needless to say, I did not sleep that night.
So coming off a night where no sleep was had and my feet and hands were still pretty sensitive, I was not in the best of moods.
As we walked around the valley seeing the schools we would be teaching at and the visiting the Chiefs of the valley to see if it would be ok if we stayed there, my feet slowly got more and more itchy and angry with me. Having never experienced an allergic reaction, I just let it slide until we got home.
After our 9-mile jaunt to see the Chiefs, I sat down and looked down to my feet to see what was going on. And even after 24 years of being a Floridian and basically living outside, I have never witnessed what I saw. My toes were bright red. Sunburnt toes. And they hurt. They were extra sensitive from the allergic reaction, and the sun took full advantage.
I openly questioned, what the heck is happening to me. Last month I get some disgusting, purulent rash on my neck for the whole world to see, and this month it’s a new allergy and horribly itchy and burnt toes and hands.
A thought from the past LDW Heather spoke to me came to mind. Letting go and dying to my flesh. I guess He really wants me to die to my flesh, to put off the things in this world and my desires in an act of obedience. I just never thought of it as literally my flesh dying and falling off.
But He never does teach me in conventional ways a lesson He knows I need to learn. I would never learn it and sustainably apply it for the rest of my life otherwise.
So there I was with a recently healing neck rash, a newly found wool allergy, and fire for feet, learning what it meant to live in full surrender and have no control.
To die to my flesh. Daily. Over and over and over again. Pick up my cross and what He has for me.
A few days later we went up the mountains into the surrounding villages for house visitations and to pray over the people of the areas. We came across a house that had fruit growing in abundance off of the trees in their backyard. They told us to take some peaches.
You don’t have to tell me twice. So we trampled over the bushes to reach the peach trees and I took a handful of the delicious fruit.
Cassidy and I went and stood at the gate of their house and land, giddily eating our peaches. The gate stood at the top of a mountain overlook and all we could do to keep from crying at the beauty of the valley before us was eat our peaches and remind ourselves all of what God had done in our lives and in our friendship.
He tears us down, killing our flesh in the process, and refines us for who He has made us to be. If you have ever stood on a mountain and looked over the vastness that is the valley and mountain range before you, you cannot help but be reminded of that.
Also, you cannot help but be reminded of and feel how incredibly small you are. God does not have to use you, but He chooses to, and He chooses to use us in huge mountain-sized ways, sometimes regardless of our negative attitudes.
All it took for me to be reminded of that was some sore toes and delicious peaches.
