And there I sat…in the bed of the truck…toe to toe with a
rooster. This is africa.
When I was a little girl I would daydream about Africa. I wanted
so badly to see the wildlife. I would dream about riding in a jeep and getting
to see momma elephants trunk to trunk with their babies crossing the dry
cracked earth, searching for a pond to cool off. I imagined watching giraffes
in their natural habitat stretching their long necks to eat from the tops of
trees. But the animal that intrigued me the most are the lions. They are so
stealth and strong and soft. When my family got a rodesian ridgeback dog, an
African breed used to track lions, I only saw it as confirmation that I was
destined to go to Africa. Haha! I love how God speaks to His little children.
So I prayed. And I waited.
I grew older, in my teens now, and I still dreamed of
Africa. But now it was more than just about the animals. I had an urge to see
the world and experience different cultures. I wanted to meet the people, eat
their food, live in their homes, hear their stories and sing their songs. I
didn’t care what country I went to in Africa. I just wanted to go. So I prayed.
And I waited.
Fifteen or so years passed and I was still dreaming about
Africa, the animals, the people, and their culture. But now I had one more
reason for going. A God-appointed call on my life to bring His Kingdom to
earth. To be His hands and feet, His voice to this continent. The day before my
31st birthday, my God took me to Malawi. I had prayed. I had waited.
And my Father fulfilled His promise.
Tears streamed down my face when I landed in Lilongwe. It
felt like a homecoming for me. Perhaps because I had waited almost my entire
life for the moment my feet would stand on African soil. A longing in my heart
had been quenched. Everything was right in the world. Haha. I was overcome with
thankfulness and so I prayed. And I waited. and i felt my Father’s love wash
over me.
I eventually met up with my team, who had traveled ahead of
me while I stayed in eastern Europe for a little longer. We were tenting inside
of an Anglican church in the town of
Ncheu. we would hop in the
back of a truck with local pastors affiliated with an organization called
Harvesters. We drove about twenty
minutes to a remote village and began getting to know the people. We would sit
and talk with them and they were always so accommodating, laying out a straw
mat for us every time, so we could sit. Many people were eager to hear more
about Jesus. Many were eager to share about their lives. And many were eager to
ask us americans about our life. I
wanted the Lord to orchestrate every conversation. So I prayed. And I waited.
There are so many things I could write about my time there.
the friendship with Sonica Kongiwa, a 24 year old with two kids and the
responsibility of watching over her younger siblings while her mother is out of
town visiting her mentally ill sister. Dancing with the men, woman and
children, under the umbrella of a ginormous tree, as we sang worship songs to
the rhythm of a drum and the clapping of our hands. The joy of the children
playing mango, mango pineapple (duck, duck goose)..i didn’t know the words for
‘duck’ and ‘goose.’ Haha.
On our last day in the village, some of my teammates bought
a rooster to give to a woman who had graciously done their laundry for them the
week prior. So all thirteen of us, malawans and Americans alike, one rooster
and a bicycle, hopped into the back of the truck. And as we drove away, a large
group of bright-eyed and beautiful smiling children ran behind us waving
goodbye and laughing. And as I looked down, I discovered I was toe to toe with
a rooster. So I prayed. And I couldn’t wait to get out of the truck. This is
Africa.
