A Dream Come True?

Think about the biggest dream you have. Think about all the time and effort it would take to make it come true. What would it feel like when it did? Do you think it would live up to your expectations? Would it fullfill the picture you have in your head of what it would be like to live and accomplish that dream? 

All of those questions are my way of trying to get you to understand what I have been going through this last month.
I have dreamed about Africa since I can remember. My Father has put it on my heart and given me a desire to pursue missions within its borders. And this month, after years of dreaming, He finally brought me here. Specifically, He brought me to a family in Lusaka, Zambia. 

 Day one, the fullfiling of my dream was not what I expected. I imagined living in a hut in the middle of the bush. Instead, I got a house with running water and electricity. I dreamed of walking the streets every day and learning about the lives of the community around me. Instead, I got hours of cramped public transportation with strangers who laughed at the Musungou (no idea how to spell that) “white people.” I dreamed about bringing Jesus to hurting people. Instead, I found the people of Zambia showing me a new side to His love and power. 

 On the other hand, different aspects of my dream did come true. I played with orphans this month. I saw hunger in their eyes. I saw their pain, but I also saw such joy and laughter. You can’t really understand the joy of Christ until you see it in the eyes of a child with seemingly nothing on the outside but everything on the inside.

 I danced in freedom with young women resuced from a life on the streets and prostitution. Their pasts were so full of pain and struggle, but their futures are full of hope of a good life and education. (I urge you to look up Vision of Hope in Zambia. Learn about these women and how to support them.) 

I witnessed real hunger. The kind where homeless elderly come to a school for orphans with worn bags and bowls in order to eat once, maybe twice, a day. I’ve seen real poverty. The kind where welfare and food stamps don’t exist. Instead children beg on the streets or quit school to start working. My eyes will never unsee these things. I will never be able forget about them. 

But oh how I’ve fallen in love with Zambia. The kindess and openess to talk about Jesus here is unbelievable. The laughter and joy fills my heart and puts me in my happy place. The people, oh the people, from the live in Nanny at our host’s home to the strangers on the street who call my teammates their gifrlfriends, I love them so much. It is going to hurt so much to leave. 

This past month, my dream to make it to Africa and do ministry came true. Not really how I expected it, but in a way much more fullfilling and revealing of the true Africa. Daddy knew exaclty what I needed to see this month. He knew how I needed to grow, and He made it happen. I would not change a single moment from this month. (Well other than the 6:15 screaming wake up call from our live in todler roommates.)