As I’m writing this, that one song from Tangled keeps running through my head. In the movie, Gothel is manipulating Rapunzel into fear and terror, and smugly and self-importantly declares that she, as Rapunzel’s mother, knows best and that thus Rapunzel shouldn’t leave the tower.
But within my mind, the melody transforms from smug and assured to comforting and calm, the words losing their bite and giving way to gentle guidance and assurance that God’s got this.
When we first arrived in Zimbabwe, Team Seekers was stoked to immediately get started on ministry, riding the high of ending our first continent and beginning the second part of our journey in Africa. We were set to work hard at the youth center we had been assigned to, excited to meet and connect with the young teens around the area and help in any way we could. We settled into our cozy (read: cramped) apartment above the center, and waited with baited breath for our ministry in Africa to begin with a bang.
Until 7 days passed and we had not done a single event of ministry.
The weekend had passed and we’d gotten underway into our official ministry days, but all we had done was take personality tests at the bequest of our host in order for him to get a good idea of how we would all work together, and sit around and discuss possible events we could hold. Frustration mounting and tension running high with our still unfamiliar host, and stuck in together in a cramped apartment and not allowed to leave the premises due to the rapidly escalating political situation, we were grinding our teeth in the silence of the long days.
Trying to remain positive, we half-heartedly declared among ourselves that we had been put in this place for a reason, and that God surely had a plan for delaying our ministry, but I’m not sure any of us really meant the words we were speaking.
I felt so incredibly useless as even our ministry planning sessions turned sour. All our excited hopes for big events such as All-night Lock-In’s were shut down, and our anticipation for a several day Beauty for Ashes workshop was cut shorter and shorter until our time frame became a scant 4 hours rather than the three-day weekend we’d been shooting for were scattered and shot down, our collective annoyance and frustration with the situation, our host, our assigned ministry, and even our first country in Africa reached a critical point.
When we finally visited a local private Christian school a week after arriving for an assembly to sing songs with the kids and tell a Bible story, we were relieved that we were finally doing something worthwhile, but rather than a long-awaited victory, instead it felt like a consolation prize.
I had never felt more useless for the kingdom. Why was I even here?
But as always, our heavenly Father knows much more than I ever will. That weekend, our workload suddenly shot through the roof. We were swamped, visiting orphanages, preaching at a girls’ school, doing hospital ministry, school assemblies, and planning our other events at the Youth Center. It was go go go twenty-four seven. Weekends were the busiest, and when we came back from ministry our free time was filled with planning for our next job.
God had given us that first week to rest and prepare for the jam-packed weeks he had planned for us afterward. I think back to how frustrated I was that first week, and I’m filled with thankfulness that God set out that time for us to rest in Him, to fill ourselves up spiritually so that we could pour out properly into the lives of the children and young teens that we were ministering to.
How could I have doubted Him so? The Father always knows best. Hopefully, this experience will have taught me patience and trust in Him, so that the next time I can say with full confidence, “I am here for a reason. I was placed here for a specific purpose for the kingdom. God, your plan is always better than mine. Help me to trust in you and your plan, and give me the patience to wait for what you want me to do. Thank you for knowing better than me. Amen.”
