It was years ago when one of my best friends Mollie came back from Africa. She went with a short-term team from Adventures in Missions to Swaziland. I remember her leaving like it was yesterday, I literally felt like she was going to be gone forever, but I was so excited for her. She is a few years older than me, and I looked up to her so much. She was going out to better the world and make a difference. Out of selfish reasons I wanted her to stay. She was one of my best friends. She understood me. She met me where I was at and offered me advice without judgement or being too pushy with her opinions. She was the first person that really mentored me and loved me just how I was.
She was gone for three months and when she came back she was totally different. She was still Mollie but she was more than that. She was brighter, lighter and had a fullness in her that I now understand to be the Lord. She talked about Africa with a nostalgic longing and a glisten in her eyes. I loved hearing stories about the kids she played with, the house moms that taught her hilarious words to get the children to behave, and the way that the Lord transformed her heart. From that time Mollie became so much more to me. She was always my mentor and friend, but she also became a spiritual leader in my life.
She would come up to my college campus and have sleepovers with me and started inviting me down to weekly MERGE gatherings (the old young adult program at my church, Flatirons). She led me so well and loved me even though I wasn’t always walking in-step with the Lord. We went to Passion together, a huge young adult conference put on by Passion City Church in Atlanta and it rocked me. I don’t think I ever fully thanked her for inviting me that week. It was the first time that I actually believed God had more in store for my life.
Later that year, my church invited people to be baptized. I purposefully wore a dress that day because I was arguing with God that I didn’t want to go up in front of my church and make a public declaration. I was so embarrassed. I was so proud. But when God wants something, He gets it. So there I was in church arguing with God thinking,
“No God, I was baptized as a baby.. I don’t need to do this… blah blah blah.”
And one of my best friends, Lindsey, grabbed my hand and said she wanted to go up to be baptized.
Brave.
But the next part caught me off guard, she wanted to be baptized with me. She said I had been a spiritual leader in her life, and she wanted me to be part of it. Wow. At that point I could only think of Mollie and how well she loved me and led me back to God. So I turned to Mollie and asked if she would baptize both of us.
Then the three of us walked in front of our congregation of probably 1,000 plus people. (I got a big T-shirt to wear because of my nicely planned dress fiasco). Then Lindsey and I held hands and sat in a big semi-warm pool together; our smiling faces were broadcast over the big screens. Mollie was there to say the prayers with us and submerge us in the water. It lasted all of three minutes, but it is still a memory that’s engraved in my memory.
Mollie has been my friend since I was 15 years old. I’ve known her through all her messy years, and she’s known me through all of mine. I’m 26 years old now and It’s almost magical to be typing this in Africa where Mollie was transformed. I feel connected to her once again. I get it.
When we were driving to the HopEthiopia compound from the airport in Addis Ababa I looked out the window and watched the landscape flash by. The rolling fields and hot sunshine beating down. The crisp air blowing through our open bus windows and the dust landing softly on my jeans. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. We pulled off on the side of the road for a bit of a break and local kids ran up to the windows to peek in at us. They reached their hands inside to hold our hands and gaze into our eyes. A grandmother walked over with a bushel of beans and broke them off for us to snack on and taste. When it was time to leave, our bus pushed off onto the road with a billow of dust in its wake. The children were sprinting through it, waving fiercely and laughing, saying goodbye to us and the special moment we just shared. When we arrived at the compound, there wasn’t one dry eye. Everyone had experienced the magic of Africa on that bus ride.
I sit here and think of how Mollie’s life was changed in Africa. I can vividly picture her stories with more realism now. I can empathize with her heartbreak of having to leave, and how Africa will always have a strong part of her heart. Mollie has been a huge inspiration to me since I’ve known her and I’ve always looked up to the work that she did in Swaziland. The moment I arrived in Ethiopia, I prayed that Africa would have a profound affect on me, and that I would be radically transformed. I’m nearly a month in and I can already tell you, I’m different. I said in the beginning that Mollie had a fullness in her, and now I understand. When you’re out here, disconnected from worldly longings, you’re able to connect to the realness of the world, to build relationships with people, to spend time reading, talking, digging into past hardships in real community, to deeply pray. I feel more connected and full of my true identity than I ever have.
I think that’s what Mollie had, an assurance of her identity in Christ and an unwavering faith in what God is capable of doing when you just believe. Africa gives you a second to turn things off and to settle down, to refocus your energy on what’s important and in the end you discover your belonging and what matters most. I’m happy to think that when Mollie came home she believed that I mattered. She sought after me and loved me so well. I want to go home and be a ‘Mollie’ to somebody, to show people what confidence in the Lord looks like. But mostly, I want to go home and love people like Mollie did for me and still does for countless others. She is a woman running after God’s heart and I’m so thankful that she is my mentor and most importantly, my friend.
Thank you, Mollie for all you’ve done for me.
