I value authenticity. I value speaking truth and having truth spoken to me. There is responsibility that comes with speaking authentically, and the Lord has been teaching me how to do this with kindness and compassion.
The majority of you have seen my posts on social media of my adventures here in Africa: going on a safari which was a life long dream of mine, swimming in Devil’s Pool at Victoria Falls which is one of the 7 natural wonders of the world, and of course pictures of the precious children I’ve met along the way. These posts are pieces of my journey that I choose to share. They are real. They are honest. They are for you- my supporters, my family, my friends. Because I have shared those highlights already, this blog leaves those moments out. Over the past 3 months I have posted about what the Lord is currently teaching me about joy, faithfulness and humility.
But Africa has not been all rainbows and giraffes. I want to be real with ya’ll, so buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride [it always is in Africa].
It’s been hard.
it’s been heartbreaking.
it’s been exhausting.
it’s been disappointing.
it’s been not what I expected.
DECEMBER – MONTH 5
My new team, Rooted, arrived at our hosts’ home in Malawi, and I was excited, expectant, and overly tired from the travel. We lived with our Pastor, his wife, and 7 children (ranging from 10-21 years old). When you live with your host, you become a part of their family. This can be needed at times(to feel that you belong), but it can also be difficult to find separation between your ministry and day to day living. Every morning we woke up and were asked if we had bathed yet, and were told the water was ready. We all sat down on the big comfy couches in living room and Charles brought out the tea, bread, and eggs for breakfast. We would pray for protection, and for the hearts of the people we would see in the village that day. We either walked to a village, or loaded up in a van and drove to one, depending on how far away we were going. We passed the local fish markets crowded with hundreds of people. We walked by fruit, vegetable, and meat stands.
We were stared at, pointed at, yelled at, smiled at, given hugs and handshakes, and were asked to give money or food.
We spent the days walking from home to home sitting down with mothers, children, husbands, witch doctors, teenagers, drunk men, grandmothers, muslims, etc. sharing our stories and the word the Lord prompted. I shared dark parts of my life with complete strangers, over and over again.
This 17-year-old boy needed to hear how I used to idolize guys over the Lord when I was his age. How I chose my own fleshly desires over walking the life Jesus had for me. The mother of six children with a husband who had left them, needed to hear how the Lord has redeemed the abandonment I felt by my earthly father.
Each time I shared, the Lord revealed a new lesson or reason as to why I walked through that darkness. He showed me why I went through those things during that exact time in order to be where I am now. I told these pieces of my life with confidence and wholeness, not with tears. Once you know who you are in Christ, having the opportunity to glorify His Kingdom is a celebration, even if that means continuously sharing the darkness that may have previously been hidden.
We evangelized Monday-Friday, six hours a day. By the time Saturday came around we were exhausted and desired time away. We went into town to escape the village life, call home, and have time to ourselves. Alone time is a rarity on the race, and even when you’re alone, you are still surrounded by your six teammates- you’re just not talking to each other. On Sundays we had church which looked different each week. We attended our Pastor’s church which is held in a classroom at a nearby school. We also attended a church hours away held in a structure made of mud and sticks. We taught, preached, sang, and danced all day and had the evenings to relax as a family. Every night we gathered in the living room and one of us led a devotional, followed by prayer and usually singing.
Our home didn’t have a Christmas tree, but our Malawian family put up some purple, gold, and green decorations to create the holiday spirit for us. Up to this point on the race I had only been homesick once (on Thanksgiving), but seeing my family through a screen on Christmas Day broke me.
I wanted to be there with you, hanging out at Jen & Matt’s, eating all our traditional meals, playing cards, and holding Layla. I craved the cooler weather, cutie Christmas sweaters, and quality time with all the humans I missed the most.
In the midst of my heart breaking, the Lord was teaching me the true meaning of joy. How to continue to find joy in Him, regardless of circumstance.
Every day was a battle to be present.
MINI DEBRIEF
After two and a half weeks of ministry the entire squad went to a Mini Debrief, which took place in Lilongwe, Malawi. During this time I sat down with a friend and a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream and verbally processed my first few weeks in Africa. It was then that I discovered I had been experiencing culture shock.
All of the sights, sounds, smells, interactions, and experiences had overwhelmed me in that moment.
I cried because Africa wasn’t what I expected. I cried because my heart was heavy with disappointment and confusion.
Why did He bring me here?
Five days with my World Race family was exactly what my heart needed. We had hours of session, teachings, worship, quality time to process, and sit with the Lord in reflection of our first month here. We rang in 2019 with karaoke, laughter, dancing, and popping bottles of grape juice. We said goodbye to two squad mates who decided their calling was no longer on the field. I said goodbye to the heaviness in my spirit and welcomed in hope, and excitement for Zambia.
JANUARY – MONTH 6
Three days of travel from Malawi to Zambia full of overnight bus rides, and a couple hours of sleep. We arrived in Livingstone and said our goodbyes as our squad split into teams and we left for our different ministry sites. Our team was greeted and driven around the corner to pick up the essentials (money, food, and if we’re lucky SIMs). Our host, Joy, told us about our ministry site, Love’s Door, and cracked jokes nonstop on our hour long drive into the African bush.
Our van was full of smiles and laughter.
joy.
His joy.
His never ending joy.
His unconditional joy.
We arrived at the Love’s Door property and saw that our new home was right next to the Zambezi River, which is known for it’s large population of hippos and crocs. We set up our tents, unloaded our packs, and I tried to nest the best I could in a little space I would call home for the next three weeks.
Side note: I’ve discovered over the past 7 months that I truly love to nest. I love to unpack my clothes, and make my surroundings feel like home, no matter if I’m only there for a few days or several weeks.
The following days we each took turns cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the 20 adults all currently living there. Our days were split with manual labor in the morning and more relationship focused ministry in the afternoon. Manual labor often consisted of helping with projects around the property (gardening, weeding, cleaning, etc.). In the afternoon we either headed out to the villages to evangelize or spent the afternoon playing with the kids from the children’s home. There are two children’s homes on the property, some are orphans and others have been sent from their homes to receive education and discipleship.
I struggled with the desire to be present with my team. We are each in different seasons of life with different perspectives and beliefs, yet we laugh and joke all day long. But there was something missing. I began to isolate myself, and chose to spend my time reading, journaling, talking to the Lord about life after the race, or trying to connect with people back home. After a night of zero sleep, and a morning full of finding and killing thousands of ants in my tent, I felt the heaviness of bitterness and irritability start to build again.
Lord, I said goodbye to these unwanted emotions in Malawi, why are they making their way back?
I missed my old team and the bond we had.
I missed Central America and all the memories made there.
I felt stagnant in what was next.
The Lord answered, “the way you’re feeling right now; the longing in your heart for the way things were…you will have this same moment come month 11 looking back to now.
You will miss this more than you can imagine.
Choose into this community. Love them as I have loved you.”
Every day was a battle to be open and choose vulnerability.
Three weeks later we packed up our homes, and headed into the city for debrief.
DEBRIEF
Before making our way to Swaziland we had a few days in Livingstone, Zambia. The whole squad came together and connected with Jamie and Julie (our coaches), who had traveled all the way from Pennsylvania to be with us. I was relieved to have a bed, hot shower, time to find true rest, and process.
During a conversation over an iced coffee I found that I hadn’t been the only one feeling a sense of hurt, and disappointment. However, I didn’t fully understand why I had been feeling these emotions until I heard my friend process through her own realization.
I have always been passionate about international missions, specifically in regard to Africa. I felt that the Lord might call me to long term mission in my future, but while being here I’m realizing this may not be what He has for me.
My heart posture has changed and this shift has caused sadness, almost as if one of my dreams is being dissolved.
Is this why you have me here, Lord?
We said goodbye to one squad mate who felt the Lord calling her home. I said goodbye to a dream, but welcomed a strong desire to be present during our last month here.
FEBRUARY- MONTH 7
Over the course of a few days, nineteen girls and 8 guys made their way from Zambia to South Africa. Then the girls continued from South Africa to Swaziland, and the guys headed to Lesotho.
I came into month 7 full of excitement to spend three weeks with all my girls. Costa Rica and Nicaragua were my favorite months in large part due to them being all squad months. I thrive being around the constant community and togetherness. However, month 7 tends to be one of the hardest months on the race. By now you know the routine of packing, long travel days, unpacking, jumping into ministry head first, making yourself feel at home, and expecting the unexpected. It’s also the time that racers become complacent. By now you’ve most likely worked through spiritual fires, difficult lessons, and experienced overall growth in your walk with the Lord.
Some racers decide to go home.
Some decide to check out.
Some coast through the rest of their time on the field without going any deeper.
I haven’t struggled with the desire to leave. I am fully confident in my calling to compete these 11 months. However, I am being challenged and asked the hard questions:
Are you checking out emotionally?
Are you continuing to work through darkness from your past?
Do you still have the motivation to do the what the Lord is asking you to?
Swaziland was not an original country on our route. A week or so prior to travel we were informed that due to political unrest in Zimbabwe we were having a route change.
Every day we go to our Carepoint, which is essentially a small concrete building where children aging from preschool to high school come to receive a hot meal. Some of the Carepoints have a play ground, and space for them to run around with their friends after a long day of sitting in a classroom.
This is month 7 of the race. I’ve witnessed poverty, I’ve seen broken communities, I’ve played with starving children, and I’ve prayed over dying grandmothers.
I’ve been through heart wrecking experiences, but every day here is a battle not to cry because I finally understand.
Lord, now I understand, this is why you brought me to Africa.
For the child who immediately falls asleep in my lap because they might not have anywhere safe enough to do so.
For the child who runs to give me a hug without second guessing who I am.
For the child who screams every time I come near.
For the child who isn’t seen at home because their parents died of AIDS, and now the Grandma provides for the 27 children.
For the child who wears the same t-shirt everyday, no pants, and continually cries, desperate to be held.
For the child too scared to look into my eyes, but won’t let go of my hand.
For the child who’s name is forgotten.
For the child that eats a few bites of their rice and beans and then carefully packs away the rest to take home.
You see them.
You know them.
You love them.
But do they know you?
Perhaps they know your name.
But do they know your love?
We’re here to show them.
Every day is a battle.
Choose joy.
Choose hope.
Choose authenticity.
Choose vulnerability.
Choose to be present.
Choose into the authority you have as His son or daughter.
Africa broke me. She dissolved old dreams and planted new ones. She challenged my walk with the Lord and struck a new fire to chase Him with all I am. She showed me things that broke my heart, and brought overflowing joy. She was nothing I expected but exactly what I needed.
Thank you Lord for your purpose.
UPDATE
We leave Africa in a few days and head to Asia.
We survived the 7th month itch. (including the lice epidemic)
I get to see my parents in 29 days.
Every time we change continents we feel like we’re changing worlds…
Here we come Cambodia!
