We were thrown right into the rural bush tribe of Madzimoyo. There was no electricity or running water, yet this village was one of the most treasured of all. Life was slower. Time was turned upside down and much of it felt like waiting, but there’s such a peace and beauty in waiting in the Lord’s presence. The children in the village were with us nonstop, which we absolutely loved, and we made deep friendships with the women of the village who were our age through sports ministry. Mbesta became my closest friend. She called me her “Sweetha,” meaning exactly that. This place took away all of the comforts of normal life, but instead substituted a much deeper and more meaningful taste of life.
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Often times we take for granted the light in our lives. It’s not until the light almost completely disappears and the darkness descends that we long for what we had, what we were once blessed with.
Living out in the bush of Madzimoyo was quite an experience. It was already hazy outside when we arrived, as it was late afternoon and there was a serious cloud cover. We walked into our living quarters. It was a brick building with holes in the walls – only a few here and there for light. The problem was…not very much light came through. I tried to avoid the thoughts, but they came anyways –
“This is the scariest place ever…”
We walked into one of the bedrooms. I could barely see, as I set my things down. It wasn’t even nighttime yet. I felt like I was in a jail cell, and we were about to live here for the next week. My mind couldn’t help but let fear creep in –
“I have to live here for the next week…I don’t know if I can deal with this.
We need to start praying over this place…and right, right now.”
Because we just arrived, we needed to visit the chief of the tribe and be officially welcomed. Everyone on my team was really excited. I was starting to get afraid of what was to come. When we returned and set up our tents inside, I found one sliver of hope – the smallest room in the house had slightly more light…just enough light to bring me to a place of ease and comfort once again.
(Most of this uneasiness was due to the previous night’s stresses of sorting out finances (being the treasurer is fine now, but that night was rough with the travel days), coupling with lack of sleep (I was the last one awake), lack of hygiene (hadn’t showered for days and the shower ran out of water right before my turn), and then came the big doozie… I woke up in the middle of the night to find a giant cockroach in my sleeping bag liner…talk about worst nightmare ever. BLAHHH haha. )
Looking back, I’m so thankful for our time there. Living in such darkness revived a new thirst, a new appreciation for light. In a literal sense, I awoke early in the morning and cherished my time with the Lord. The sun set and my body’s reaction was to shut down completely at 7:30pm. We felt drained so much of the time, even though it did not feel like we were doing much. The intensity of the sun and heat (we were not used to this), mixed with the doxycycline (malaria meds) was a bad combination. It’s a strange feeling to feel so close to useless when we are here, across the world, with the purpose of being used for the Lord’s hands.
God used this situation for our team, leading us through a valuable time together. My devotion this morning helped to tie everything together. Oswald Chambers speaks of “listening to good advice when it is dark instead of waiting for God to send the light.” At first it was easy to stay positive. We were in a new place, and there was a lot of waiting.
Waiting… the river flooded and we cannot go to the clinic today.
Waiting… the sun is too hot and our bodies cannot handle the heat or sunburn.
Waiting…our leader and logistics teammate went into town for supplies and we had to stay behind.
I’ve found there is a great lesson behind waiting:
Waiting is a time of DISCIPLINE, not a time of displeasure.
Though I did not succeed every time, I did find joy when I put my mind to it. During our long walks to the clinic, it was easy to want to talk the whole time – or look at the beautiful scenery around – or even just stare at my feel to make sure I didn’t step in poo of some sorts… but then I found value in that walk. Just as back home, I so valued my commute to work. I had time for reflection, for prayer, and for worship, and that is what I needed here. Finding solitude and silence in a group is difficult, but the Lord still desires us to find rest in Him. That is where I found my confidence and strength for praying for the sick…the boldness to give words of encouragement to a young girl with a broken arm and cancer…to babies stricken with malaria and their mothers holding on so tightly.
The Lord gives us his authority over the sickness over the darkness. We must take hold of that authority and power to overcome…and even further – we cannot share what we have not received for ourselves. So I beg you, I beg of myself – to keep receiving – to keep receiving the light…and to seek it out when it seems lost forever.
Lord, let me embrace your light each today. Let me bask in your presence and receive all of you.
