I haven’t written in a while, I just couldn’t put the words together to explain everything that has happened in the transition between Zambia and Zimbabwe. So I want to start off by explaining what my life has looked like in the last two months. This trip has been full of challenges and in the moment it is so hard to see that God is still at work and by my side. I had a lot of doubt in Zambia about whether we were actually doing something with our time there, whether we were actually teaching our students anything, and even whether or not I wanted to stay in Africa. I can’t lie and say this has been an easy journey, I’ve cried a few times and questioned God more than I want to admit. I’ve missed home and I’ve missed my boyfriend, I’ve missed American food and I’ve missed having privacy. I say all of this not to sound negative, but it is the reality of the situation, it’s hard. With all of that being said, there is something so beautiful about faith when life isn’t easy. You have to trust in Him. Above absolutely anything else, you trust that He is and will always see you through the storm. He promises us this in the Bible and yet we are so quick to forget His promise when we are in the middle of a downpour. It’s easy to feel like He’s deserted us and left us to fend for ourself, to feel confused and far from Gods touch but this is not the reality. He’s right there, always holding your hand and asking you to trust His plan. This is the season that I’m walking through with Him right now. I’m learning to trust like I never have before, I’m learning to find comfort in Him, which is something I’ve never had to do before, not fully at least. But, in only two short months I’ve had no other choice but to run to Him and trust that His timing is perfect. Now, looking back on Namatama in Zambia, I’m lucky enough to be able to see some of the fruit from our work there in moments where I thought God left me alone. Teaching for me was one of the most trying and draining tasks I’ve had thus far. I think I’ve said this before but my classroom was the only one without a teacher. Those students spoke little to no English and even though they were all close in age, they were all at completely different learning levels. It was a new free school for kids in the community who hadn’t been able to attend due to lack of funds. I don’t claim to be a teacher and I really never thought it would be something I’d enjoy, but I felt a strong weight on my shoulders to teach them as much as I could in three weeks. I wanted those kids to get a quality education so they can go and do more for themselves and the community. I made a lesson plan everyday and tried to alter it to meet everyone’s needs, I pushed them to keep paying attention, I gave them homework every night, I just wanted to see them learn. As the weeks went on, I started realizing that they weren’t excelling as fast as I thought they would; in fact I felt like they weren’t learning anything at all. One day they even insisted that they would learn better if they had a local teacher. I knew that it was true but it hurt me to hear that all of the hard work I was putting in wasn’t paying off. I was angry. Angry with my students for not trying hard enough, angry with God for putting me in a situation to teach young adults with no help, and angry with myself for not reaching my expectations. I sat with this anger for the remaining weeks, but on our last day something so beautiful happened. I spent most of the last day just enjoying time with my students, learning local words, letting the girls braid my hair, playing games with them, I figured it would be pointless to try to teach anything on my last day there so I just wanted to spend quality time with them. I was sad that I wouldn’t see them again, but I also felt a little happy that I didn’t have to teach anymore. As we were leaving and saying our last goodbyes, I noticed one of my students, Getrude, began to cry. I went to comfort her and tell her everything was going to be okay and then I noticed all of my students were in a circle crying together. This group of students who I felt like I had failed to teach and honestly I felt like they didn’t really like me that much were all sobbing at the thought of not seeing me again. It didn’t click at first but after telling my friend Julia the story, she said that was Jesus. She was so right. I wasn’t sent into their life to drill spelling and sentence structure into their head. I was there to expect more of them and love them like Jesus would. I didn’t even realize how much they cared for me until I left. I couldn’t see how God was using me in those three weeks until the storm passed and His plan was revealed to me. This is just one of the small victories in my life but it is such a huge testament of faith to me. I don’t ever want to forget that God is with me in the valley, and His plan might not always become obvious to you but I can promise it’s so much better than anything you could ever imagine. Take note of the little victories in life rather than focusing on what feels like a defeat because God isn’t done with you yet. He has a purpose and a plan for your life and that is so beautiful. Now I’m a little over two weeks into my time here in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe and life is still challenging at times, but I’m learning everyday to trust Him more. I keep reminding myself that the little victories matter over anything else, and I’m so thankful for all of the amazing things God is doing through me and around me, and I’m so thankful for His love and grace in my moments of doubt and uncertainty. I can’t wait to update you guys again and let you know what’s going on in the small African town of Bulawayo.
Love and miss you guys at home!
