In three days my feet will find themselves coated in the red dust of Eastern Africa once again. The same red dust that covered me head to toe six years ago; the dust I haven’t been able to shake from my soul since. The same dust that stirred up a restlessness in my spirit and longing for depth with Jesus. It was along the village roads of Kenya where Jesus began shaking up the life I had planned; slowly stripping away my plans and replacing them with what I can now see as fullness—shoutout to retrospect.
I remember the flight home from those two life-altering months even still, and the conversation I had with the Abba at 30,000 feet. Gazing into the clouds from my window seat somewhere above Europe Abba and I made a few promises to each other.
The first came out of a deep contentment and peace I felt in that moment, sitting in the comfort of the Father’s presence. It was almost as if He was a friend leaning over from the next seat to look out the window too, saying, “Victoria, if it’s just you and I, you’re going to be okay. If it’s just the two of us, it will be good. And I’ll be with you.” And for the first time in my life I felt an assurance so strong that if this life looks like just Jesus and I, I could do it, and it would be good. And I decided I wanted Him more than any thing or any person—don’t read this as my call to singleness, ya crazies, because I hang on to that “if” pretty tightly. I figure I have at least until my 60’s before I hit spinster status.
The second promise Abba made as we glided over the earth was one my heart leapt at the thought of: Africa and I weren’t done. I knew one day I’d find myself walking under African skies again.
When we are people who love Jesus, we talk a lot about the faithfulness of God. We talk about His sovereignty and His ability to work all things for good. We talk about how God is a promise keeper—trustworthy to make good on the things He says and the covenants He creates. We say it because it’s true. And I know it’s true because I’m living in those promises and experiencing that faithfulness right now, this very minute.
Here I am, living a life that’s been disrupted by the Gospel. Living a life that looks so different from the one I had mapped out 2,190 days ago; which included a husband and a house, probably a baby by now, and a meaningful but quiet existence.
Here I am, doing this thing with Jesus. It’s just Him and I (well, and all of you!) and we’re okay. Actually, we’re great. And this life—this story we’re writing together—is so good.
Here I am, about to set foot in my promised land. Thankfully, I only had to wait six years instead of forty. #toobadsosadisraelites
Here I am, living in fullness and fulfillment of the promises of God over my life.
Here I am, full of gratitude as I pack my bag for Africa.
Here I am, right where I’m supposed to be.
The Bible is literally full of stories shouting the faithfulness of God over and over. Last month I camped out in the book of Joshua with a teacher named Jen Wilkin, and WOWOWOW, if you need to know that God is faithful, if you need to know God sees far beyond what we can see, if you need assurance that the God of the universe can be counted on and trusted with the follow through, spend some time in Joshua.
