*Update* I wrote the following blog about five days ago, a few days before my squad flew out of Africa. I’m currently sitting in my gate in Vienna, Austria, waiting to fly to Montenegro where our next month of ministry is!
In May of 2016, I had found the route I thought I’d chosen for the World Race on their website. It had three African countries in it, which is why I’d picked that particular route, one of which was Uganda. When I was in high school, I’d read a book called “Kisses from Katie” that had blossomed my desire to go to Africa in the first place. The book is great and I think everyone should read it. It’s about a 19-year-old girl named Katie who decides that the typical college thing isn’t her thing, and she moves to Africa independently and adopts 14 or so little girls in Jinja, Uganda. I read this book and began dreaming of doing the same thing. I dreamed of raising the money to rent property and a house and my only stipulation was that it came with a bathtub so I could give little African babies real baths. It was a cute dream.
When my youth pastor announced in 2014 that there was a trip to Africa for the high schoolers, and my best bud, Zoe, was going, I was in. I wondered if this would be the beginning of something great, and it really was. Senegal and all that I encountered there was incredible. The people, culture, the experience – all of it was beautiful and my heart swelled when I’d stepped back into the plane that would fly me back to the states. I remember looking out the window with my face pressed up to the glass, drinking up my last view of the brown Senegalese terrain, and whispering I’ll touch African soil again, I know it.
When I was first contacted by Adventures in Missions, the organization behind The World Race, they told me the route I’d chosen was the Fusion route and that I wasn’t old enough to go on it, but that I could pick another route. None of the other routes had Uganda as a country we’d go to, but I still wanted to get back to Africa, so I chose the only other route that had Africa in it. The countries were the Ivory Coast, Ghana and Burkina Faso, three among the eleven countries we’d travel to. I selected the route and was accepted, I even announced that I was going to begin fundraising, and then I received a scary email. It went something along the lines of “Due to lack of people signing up, AIM will be merging route one and route four into one route. We will let you know the new route as soon as we have it finalized, be aware that most of the countries will be changing.”
I was worried that Africa would no longer be on the list of countries my new route would be traveling to, and I remember thinking that if it wasn’t, maybe I’d continue the search for organizations that could get me back to Africa. I took it as God’s way of finally confirming or denying if this race was for me.
A few weeks later, I received the news that the route had been merged, and all countries had changed except the three African countries that were on my original route. I was so excited. Well, if that’s not confirmation that this is where I’m supposed to be, then nothing is! The three West African countries remained, while the rest were shuffled around and changed, and I was thrilled. I was sure God wanted me to go back to west Africa and I was positive that something incredible was going to happen.
I’ve now been in Africa for three months, and I’ve spent the majority of that time in a bed. My experience in Ivory Coast was a good one, minus the parasites that sent me to the hospital three times, and to the bathroom hundreds. My time there was spent mostly visiting churches, new and old, and sharing the gospel with young, elderly, and all in between through preaching from the pulpit. Arriving in Ghana after our month in the Ivory Coast we spent the days doing street evangelism, sharing with everyone we encountered what we were there for – the gospel and the kingdom. I lasted about four days before starting to feel the onset of Malaria, and spent the next five weeks in bed. Our third month in Africa was supposed to be spent in Burkina Faso, but our stay was extended in Ghana and Burkina was scratched off the itinerary because of the lack of safety.
Last night was one of the first nights since all of this that I’ve felt healthy again, and around midnight, my friend Katy crept into my room and tapped my foot. Lifting my eye mask and taking out my ear plugs (Don’t judge, Africa is loud and has creepy bugs I’d rather not see or hear) I asked her what she needed, and if she was okay. She looked guiltily at me and whispered “So… I know its midnight, but I kinda want to go swimming. Wanna come with me?” I looked at her and after a moment, said “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes!”
We got into our suits and grabbed our towels and padded off towards the pool in the dead of the night, giggling and whispering about how adventurous we were being. Later as we were floating around the dark pool, I shared with her what I was feeling.
“It kind of feels like I’m losing a part of me. Like, when I get on the plane to leave Africa this time, it will be in relief and exhaustion, compared to last time when I vowed to return. I feel like I’ve lost something, a passion or a dream… it kinda hurts like a break-up.” I explained how my expectations for Africa had been so extravagant and how I’d been so sure that I was supposed to go, especially after the route change and the way it all had played out. Katy looked at me across the water and said “Okay, so why do you think God brought you here?”
You see, I’ve been asking myself the same question. After spending ample amounts of time reading, watching movies, laying completely still and staring at the ceiling, and in prayer, I think I’m starting to come up with an answer. A few answers, actually.
I’m starting to realize that God doesn’t need me to do his work, he can do it fine all on his own. I thought that Africa needed me to make a change, but really, it doesn’t.
I’m starting to understand that even though I was in bed, and though God didn’t need my squad, truth was still brought to Sunyani, and Tamale. Even with me staying back and waving to my team through the window, God allowed change to be made and people did give their lives to Jesus.
I’m starting to grasp how important it is to fully rely on God before relying on anything else. I’m beginning to grasp the concept of reliance, which means God plus nothing is everything. He’s all of it. I haven’t had any other safety net, nothing to cling to. Though I’ve been surrounded by great friends and people who love me have been praying fervently for me, God has been the only one that can heal me. The medical care here is a joke, and that scared me, because I’ve never faced a hospital that I hadn’t trusted back in America. I had to fully trust and rely on God to keep me alive, and that was hard. I’m still learning how to do that.
I’m still a little heartbroken about how my experience in Africa went because the reality is; being sick here has been miserable and everyone knows it. I wish I’d been able to avoid the malaria and the parasites and the infections, but I didn’t. I also know that nothing ever happens the same way twice, and my experience in Senegal was one that may never be topped. It was great and I don’t want my rough experience in Ghana to change how I fondly reminisce on Senegal. I am grateful, though, for this time in Africa. God allowed me to come back, and though I don’t fully understand the why behind everything that has happened, I can leave knowing that people came to Jesus and my relationship with God was tested and strengthened because of the trials. I am still confident that God had me here for a reason, even if it was never for my own personal gain or glory, and even if I never know the full why.
We fly out in a few days and when I look out the window and say goodbye to Africa for the second time, I can’t say confidently whether or not I’ll be back. My life is a lot different now than it was when I was a senior about to graduate high school. What I can say, though, is that Africa will always hold a special place in my heart, and it is well with my soul.
