My long skirt flowing in the wind, catching around my feet as I struggle to unfold my body out of the trike. I’m dressed and ready for ministry. Ministry this time was a little more unknown then some of the other months on the race. Our school cancelled, we couldn’t share the gospel with the school children. Change of plans. One thing that racers become really good at, being fluid and going with plans that constantly change. So as a team we decided that we could use our ministry time praying at the “Plaza”, or the courtyard along the main road. We are preparing for a festival that will be held at the Plaza, a huge opportunity to share the gospel with many Filipinos. Unfortunately at this time, the Plaza has not been reserved for this event. Needless to say, prayers were welcome and needed.
So here I was, trying to get out of the trike with some sort of resemblance to a lady in a dress, preparing my heart for some quality time in prayer. Ten pesos later, I come around the trike, and come in line with some of my squad mates participating in Zumba. It wasn’t a pretty sight! One of the guys was a former teammate, and we made eye contact. First mistake. He knew I loved doing Zumba as a workout, and knew he needed some help with his dance moves. I didn’t even make it across the courtyard.
Within 2 minutes, my Chaco’s were off, I had my long skirt tucked into my waistband to make it shorter and a decent sweat glistening my whole body. Second mistake. My feet were on fire from the small rocks, and a body shouldn’t sweat as much as I have in the Philippines. But when the Filipino ladies saw my skirt tucked in (mind you, I still covered my knees) they pointed and laughed. I got their attention now. Not only am I a white girl trying to Zumba in a skirt in a public courtyard, I now have the Filipino people’s attention. Third mistake. Dance instructor change, into the very lady who pulled me on the dance floor/courtyard. She was watching me like a hawk, or maybe that was my insecurities rising. And boy could she shake what her mama gave her! Several times through the dances she led, I look over at a couple of the squad mates I drug with me on the floor, and mouthed something along the lines of “I can’t believe I am doing these moves in public… on a mission trip…this should not be allowed” I couldn’t bow out nicely now, this dance instructor had me locked in her sight. I went along popping, and locking parts of my body that shouldn’t move like that, until the very end. But of course we had to finish with a Filipino tradition (not really a tradition) of taking a selfie! The teacher came up to me, told me I was sexy, and asked if I would come back on “MWF’” (translates to Monday, Wednesday, Friday… took me awhile on that one) for more Zumba classes.
God has other plans than our mere human expectations of what ministry should look like. All my mistakes throughout the night became a positive event. God doesn’t make mistakes, we just don’t see His big picture. My ministry this month became clear. I’m going to shake my booty at Zumba for my ministry. And I never thought I would EVER say that, on the Race or at home! God made my ‘mistakes’ in my lightbulb moment. Zumba here I come!
