This Christmas was undoubtedly very different than any other Christmas I’ve had in my past. I spent it with my friends, not my family. My Christmas tree was a tiny plastic “Charlie Brown” tree, not a huge tree that my family picked out together. I traded twinkle lights around my home for mosquito nets. Instead of my friends being sick with the sniffles from cooler weather, they were sick with malaria.
Most years the days leading up to Christmas would be filled with driving around town looking at Christmas lights, wrapping the many gifts that were going to be placed under our giant Christmas tree, and preparing expensive and elaborate meals.
This year, in Zambia, I spent the days leading up to Christmas evangelizing around villages. I spoke with people who have never heard the Christmas story, some who have never heard of Jesus.
On Christmas Day, my team and I led the entire Christmas church service. We led three separate Sunday Schools; children, youth and adults. I had the opportunity to give the sermon and my friend Emily spoke part of her heart by sharing a special part of her testimony. Never, even in my boldest prayers for Africa did I expect that I would stand in front of an African congregation on Christmas morning and give a sermon. Reflecting back on the one year of hard support raising, the four years of praying for the World Race specifically, and the ten years of praying that Africa would be my home for a period of time, I am just so stinkin’ thankful.
I didn’t expect to ever say this, but I’m most thankful for the challenges and the hard lessons learned that have refined and sharpened me.
One of those lessons I learned on Christmas Eve from a little boy named Paul.
During our time going around the neighborhoods we ended up collecting 62 children who followed us around. Children’s ministry wasn’t specifically on our schedule, but so much of our day was filled with spending time with the village kids. They ran towards us yelling “muzungu” (white) with huge smiles on their faces. Paul was one of the kids who spent the day with us as we traveled from home to home. Paul and I didn’t speak the same language, but we didn’t need to. All Paul wanted was to hold my hand, and know that he is seen and known.
On my feet are $100 shoes.
On Paul’s feet were shoes made from garbage. The soles were made of pieces of cardboard, and the straps are pieces of plastic bags tied together.
Before arriving in Zambia, I prayed that God would use Africa to break my heart for what breaks his.
Seeing Paul’s tiny dirt covered feet, with shoes made from garbage broke my heart. It made my soul ache. The kids here aren’t getting new bikes for christmas, or dolls, or race cars. Their toys, are going to continue to be trash that they dig through the dump to find and play with.
You read about this, you see the commercials on tv, but I have the opportunity to live this unique lifestyle that has turned my world view upside down. My heart is softening, and my head is spinning from reality shock. I’m so glad I’m no longer blind to so much that pre world race my eyes and mind were closed off to.
In the U.S. so much of Christmas is materialistic. The most expensive gifts, the brightest lights, the most extravagant meals. I’d be lying if I said I don’t enjoy giving and receiving gifts, and having a home decorated for the holidays. But after the experience of Christmas in Africa, I hope I’ll never take for granted the small joys in life. Opportunities to see my family. Chances to hug the people I love.
I’m doing my very best here to make the people around me feel loved, seen, and known. My hosts, my teammates, the people we are ministering to. I pray that Paul felt loved and cared for on Christmas Eve. That the games we played, and the songs we sung brought him joy.
Paul picked a small yellow flower for me and each of my teammates that we wore in our hair all day. I kept mine, and it’s pressed into my bible.
I have the physical reminder of that day, but the memory and the hard lessons learned i’ll continue to carry with me.
Life is so easy for most people in the States, even on our hardest and most challenging days, we are so incredibly blessed. From the shoes on your feet, to your cars, beds, homes, the food in your kitchen, and access the healthcare. Here, people are fighting to survive. So, so many people not only don’t but probably ever won’t have opportunities even close to what we have so abundantly provided to us in the States. Where success in the U.S is having security; insurance, an education, and steady job. Putting food on the table for your family equals success here.
So in this season of celebration, celebrate the small joys in life, celebrate your friends and family, and celebrate the many blessings and opportunities you have such easy access to!
I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas and has a happy and healthy start to 2017!
My heart, Elizabeth
