It was August of 2011, and I was on a mission trip with Jesus Film in Malawi, Africa. We had spent two weeks immersed in a community of poverty and suffering; a literal foreign land for all of us Americans. I remember seeing the poverty for the first time, as we ventured away from the little airport. Masses of people were everywhere. Women were carrying buckets on their heads, small mud huts lined the streets, nearly everyone was barefoot, and the rags on their bodies served as clothes. There were children all over. They were begging for money and wandering aimlessly. We drove through town after town for five or so hours, in order to make it to our final destination. I spent the entire drive in agony. My stomach was churning and my head was pounding. I couldn’t find the strength to speak. How can it be true that this poverty actually exists? How can it be an actual reality to some, while in America we can simply turn off the TV or switch the channel when we start to feel guilty? I felt absolutely terrible for these people.
As the trip progressed, we started to form relationships with people in the villages. We were working with a Christian tribe to plant churches and share the love of Christ with the people of southern Malawi. It was hard. My faith was tested in ways I had never imagined. People told us there were demons showing up at our film showings. We saw poisonous critters crawl up the legs of our peers, mysterious winds continued to blow down our movie screen, and one night the speakers wouldn’t project the slightest of sounds. I had never experienced these things. I had never seen or been told these things. This middle class, white, American girl was far from her comfort zone; and boy, did I feel bad for those African people who called this place home.
However, their responses amazed me over and over again. When things started to go wrong, they didn’t panic, they didn’t quit. They prayed. They prayed for healing, they prayed for provision, they prayed for restoration, they prayed for opportunity. But the most amazing part to me was that they completely trusted that God would provide. They knew that the Lord and Creator of the universe heard every single word they spoke. They knew he was capable of absolutely anything. They knew they had no reason to fear; and they were right.
As the end of the trip approached, I was standing with a Malawian man on the shore of Lake Malawi, along with a couple of my teammates. We were explaining to him our gratitude. These people had taught us more than we had ever imagined. We told our new friend that God had worked in our hearts and pointed us toward Jesus in such an immense way through the Malawians, while here we were, the ones who traveled across the world to try to point others to Jesus. He laughed as he heard these words. His response was something along the lines of, “You feel bad for us because of the poverty and suffering we experience, but we feel bad for you. Our hearts hurt for the people of America. We want to send missionaries there. You are surrounded every single day by idols, temptations, and the media. You are the ones who have it hard.” He was far from surprised that we had learned so much in our short two week visit; two weeks away from the “American Dream”, constantly buzzing cell phones, critical media, and money, money, money. I was astonished yet again.
So here I am now, April of 2013, and this idea has hit me once again like a brick in my face. I am currently reading “Kisses from Katie” by Katie Davis. She is a young woman who moved to Uganda right out of high school to teach and care for orphans. The Lord has continually formed her heart since then, and she now is committed to a lifetime in Uganda with her fourteen adopted children (her story is incredible, and I HIGHLY recommend her book!). This is a quote from her book.
“I thought of how, after a long, hard day in my previous life, I would have crashed on the couch with a pint of ice cream, a good sappy movie, and my closest girlfriends. Here, at the end of a long, hard day, there was nothing to do but cry out to Jesus for the strength to go on.”
I’m not saying there is anything wrong with relaxation, ice cream, or friendships. That’s not what I’m saying at all. However, when we turn to these things for comfort rather than the Lord, that’s when we have a problem. We are surrounded by a surplus of everything. We have SO much. We often fall into the trap of believing that these things can bring us comfort, joy, and peace. We feel bad for people who do not have the things we have. But amidst all of this stuff, we often miss the point. Jesus wants us to go to him, to trust in him, to pray to him. He yearns for his people to call on his name, and we receive such blessings when we do just that. We could really take a tip or two from the Africans. The people I worked closely with in Malawi have next to nothing, yet they are so joyful and at peace. They trust in the Lord instead of stuff.
Lord, help me to trust in you, to go to you, to call on you. I want to treasure you more than any earthly treasure, and I need your Spirit to help me do that. Amen.
Love,
Kara
