We were in Beira, Mozambique for 25 days. Over the span of those 25 days I celebrated my birthday, Christmas, New Year’s Day and our 2nd wedding anniversary. It’s usually a fun month back home. Mozambique isn’t really where I envisioned celebrating all these events this year however. I tend to make a big deal out of this time of year. Who doesn’t love three weeks all about themselves? The first few weeks in Beira were tough and I was suffering; or so I thought.
Our second day in Beira, I woke up hot, sweaty, dirty, without a shower, only to poop in a hole. It was my birthday. That morning we had to go into town and buy drinking water. Then we dropped off our large backpacks at another missionary’s home since our place wasn’t big enough for everyone’s stuff. No IHOP birthday breakfast this year. No birthday cake. No birthday candles. No making Christmas cookies. No fancy gifts. No family. This was not my birthday. I prayed that December 13th would hurry up and get here so I could begin the countdown to next year’s birthday. I refused to acknowledge this day as my day. Nothing about it was mine, so I cried.
As the days passed, I tried to forget about my birthday and focus on the ministry here in Mozambique. I knew Christmas was quickly approaching, but that was just one more day I was ready to forget. This would not be a real Christmas. No snow. No tree. No presents. No caroling. No candlelight service. No fish on Christmas Eve. No honey baked ham. No family again. To top it off, I almost stepped on a snake. This was not Christmas. I prayed that December 26th would hurry up and get here so I could begin the countdown to next year’s Christmas. Nothing about the day was like Christmas, so I cried.
By December 27th, I was done. I was physically and emotional drained. I didn’t even have the energy to think about New Year’s Day or our anniversary. I was sick of our tent. I was sick of dirt. I was sick of rice. I was sick of heat. I was sick of not having Internet to Skype, blog, email or facebook. I didn’t know what else to do, but crying seemed to help, so I cried.
This whole time I’d been asking God; What God? Why God? Are you going to show me something or teach me something or not? Little did I know, the lesson had been in session since about day two. I was reminded of
2 Corinthians 12:9.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all he more gladly in my weaknesses, s that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weakness, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
I was not content in my hardships. I was totally weak and not allowing Him to be my strength this month. Once I read this verse again, it was like a light bulb went off. My situation had changed and the circumstances were not ideal, but God hadn’t changed. I was hot, selfish and frustrated, but God was still good, perfectly loving and just. I was utterly discontent in spite of God’s command to be content.
After this revelation, I reflected back on the actual happenings of my birthday and Christmas with a clear mind and a content heart. What a blessing it had been to get a cold coke and French fries on my birthday. I didn’t spend the day with my family, but it was so special to Skype with my mom, Corey and Elizabeth even if only for a moment. I didn’t have my immediate family there, but I had my wife and 13 World Race teammates and friends to share the day with. Ashley also surprised me with emails and messages from friends and family at home. She worked for over a month to compile the messages for me to read on my actual birthday. That made me cry extra hard. Before the night was over, my team and twenty boys from the neighboring orphanage sang happy birthday to me in English and Portuguese. Looking back, I know I’ll never have another birthday as unique as that one.
I remembered the highlights of Christmas as well. On Christmas Eve, we camped out in the front yard of one of the orphanages. I hadn’t eaten dinner that night and cried as I thought of my family eating fish on Christmas Eve. Suddenly, one of the orphans ran up to me with a bowl of rice giggling and smiling as he sat down next to me and we shared our Christmas Eve meal. He was joyful and he didn’t even have a family to miss. I was missing it. I was missing the entire point of this race and more importantly of Christmas. Jesus Christ is the reason I’m joyful. It’s not my family, food or gifts. Gosh, I hope I’m not really that shallow. It’s all about Jesus and the salvation I have through his life and death on the cross. We wrapped up Christmas Eve listening to Christmas music while making smores over a bonfire. Christmas day was full of good food and fun with the children. We watched It’s a Wonderful Life and Elf with them. The cherry on top was that Ash and I got to Skype both of our families for a while- another day full of blessings and surprises. Thank you God for the chance to be here to experience all of this.
December was full of tears- good and bad. I wouldn’t trade them. It was a hard month full of important lessons. At the end of the day all praise and honor are due to Jesus. He is the reason I’m alive to celebrate each birthday. He’s the reason I celebrate Christmas, his birth and my salvation.
Your grace is sufficient for me. Your power is made perfect in my weakness.
