I have had more than a few friends and family members ask me this question in the last few weeks and there has been one moment that keeps coming up.
Kigali, Rwanda July 2018
Each month the church in Rwanda brings these 5 kids food for the month and we just happen to be in town on the day of the month they make that trip so we tagged along. We got to see their home made from dirt and brick, and got to meet the kids. The oldest daughter stepped up after both of their parents died, and lead the other kids. She gave up her plans to care for her siblings, and through it all she kept her faith in the Lord. We got to sit down with them and talk for a while, and they then said they needed to fetch water and eager at the opportunity to help we swiftly jumped to our feet and said we would do it. They passively agreed to let us tag along and we started our trek to the well. At this point the sun had already fallen and we didn’t have our phone on us so we followed blindly down the red clay road. We jumped over ditches, streams, rocks, and trash. Quickly we realized there was a pack of about 24 kiddos following us and I turned around and picked one of the smiling kids up and was quickly overwhelmed with the amount of kids hanging on to my every limb. With kids hugging both my legs, one on my hip and 5 or more holding my hands and arms we started down the hill again. Between my broken Kinyarwanda and their broken English, we had as many conversations as we could but when we ran out of words to say we just started laughing and smiling at each other, and that was more than enough. We then started making noises which the kids tried to make themselves. Let’s just say that snapping my fingers was a sound none of them could recreate. As we got closer the valley would could hear the kids in the distance. Once we arrived we walked through the brown pool of water that was between us and the water access and we got our spot in the line of about 50 kids all carrying their yellow water jugs. Fetching water is the kid’s chore, and it often hast be down 3 times a day. Sadly, the smaller kids get pushed out of the way and have a hard time getting their turn at the well, which is a sad reality for some kids. We waited for about an hour until it was our turn and we filled up our jugs, which were the same size as the ones the 3 year olds were carrying. And we began our journey back to the house. After just a few steps up the hill the reality of how heavy the water jugs were set in. We were about half way up the hill when we passed two little boys carrying their water and immediately when I saw their faces my heart broke into a million pieces. I tried to explain to this little boy that I wanted to help him carry his water and thankfully Annie, which is one of our mission’s partners stepped in and translated for me. The boy wearily agreed to let me help and I carried his water in one hand and he held my other tightly. For the next mile or so he kept a steady watch of his water jug to be sure that I wasn’t going to take it or disappear with it and the fear that was apparent on his face hurt my heart even more. We got to the end of the path where the road to his house broke of and I gave him and his brother a hug and they took their water jug back and began to lug it the rest of the way to their house. When we made it back to the house of the family we were visiting we said our goodbyes and began to load up the van. That was one of the most difficult and heartbreaking moments in my life, having to leave that neighborhood that nigh knowing all those beautiful souls would make that trek to the well again in the morning. It’s safe to say that this moment pushed me to take a bigger step in my relationship with God. The moment that it set in that I had to say goodbye to these beautiful, energetic, and loving kids was the moment I knew God was calling me to take a leap of faith. I have known I wanted to serve for a longer period of time than a summer trip can provide for a while but God used this moment to reassure me that he was calling me to serve him and it wasn’t just my adventurous heart longing for it. God was calling me to trust him. This is one of the moments that I think about late at night when I can’t sleep because Gods presence in the moment was overwhelming.
So why– To love God and to love others
In my mind one of the most genuine ways to share the gospel with others is by simple loving them. Sometimes that looks like loving on children on soccer fields in Guatemala and playing with kiddos in slums in Africa but it also looks like long conversations in small quite coffee shops with long lost friends and moments of peace while hiking trails with family.
God has taught to me to value both, and this past year he has given me a new sense of appreciation for the smaller acts of love and obedience like speaking his truth into every part of our lives, even the hard and messy parts.
There are many times in the last few years where I can look back and see how God was preparing me for this day and I cant wait to share those, but this one stands out as one of the big moments of encouragement in my journey. 🙂
