Here I am, lying in my bunk in the children’s home in
Swaziland, contemplating the last three months of my life that I’ve spent here
in Africa. When I signed up for the World Race, Africa was kindof an
afterthought for me – I was super excited for South America and Asia, South
America because of my previous experiences with Latin American culture, and
Asia because it seemed mysterious, exciting, and mysterious. But to me Africa
was just another inevitable stop along the route. I wasn’t dreading it,
although I figured it might be some of the toughest months physically, but I
can’t say I was looking forward to it – honestly I wasn’t thinking much about
it at all. It was just there, month six, seven, and eight. Get past Africa and
I’ve made it to Asia, the home stretch!
They call Africa the “Dark Continent”. Besides the obvious skin color association,
Africa is called this for another reason. It has been widely reached by
missionaries for centuries, yet, it is a place of seemingly inpenetratable
spiritual darkness. Generations of belief tied to witch doctors, worship of
ancestors, voodoo, and other tribal mysticisms have left this continent
confused and in desperate need of the truth of Jesus. Individuals and churches
have been reached by the gospel and turned to Christ, but even churchgoers
attend church on Sunday and go to the witch doctor on Wednesday. Walk down
certain streets or hang out it certain parts of town and you can feel the
emptiness, that unseen darkness, pressing in on you. Africa is in need of hope.
Christian population in the world, and I have seen firsthand this hope finding
its place in the hearts of people here. My journey started in South Africa as I
spent time with the kids in the townships of Cape Town, teaching them soccer and
taking them to church for the first time.
I loved every minute of my experience in South Africa, and was convinced
that nothing would be better than the month I spent there. Flash forward to
Mozambique, where I spent one of the best months of my life living with the
boys at Kadesh. I will never forget all
the fun times I had climbing trees, swimming in the ocean, belly flopping into
mud pits, sleeping in a tent under the mango trees, playing volleyball, or
sitting in the shade in the heat of the day and talking with the boys about
their dreams after they leave Kadesh. These boys changed me. And now, I am here
in Swaziland, with yet another chance to love on some kids. I am surrounded by
breathtaking mountain views all around, yet these sights hardly compare to the
smiles on the kids faces when I come walking up to the baby house to play with
them. These have been the three best
months on the race, hands down.
over. I feel like one of those people I always made fun of when they would come
back from mission trips to Africa and claim they could move there, open an
orphanage and live out their lives as missionary hippies. Just a phase, I
figured, it’s not realistic. Well strange missionary hippie types – I feel you,
man. This place is where it’s at. I could see myself coming back here. I’m not
going to say for certain what my future holds, but Africa will always hold a
special place in my heart.
History may have termed it the Dark Continent, but I have
seen a shimmer of the light here that can overcome any darkness!
