Written toward the end of my time in Swazi.
Let’s be honest, I am done with Africa. I am done with getting attention merely because I am white, I am sick of being told I Love you, or getting proposed to at the bus rink when you do not even know my name. I am sick of being looked at merely for the pleasure of another. Being compared to any other women he has ever met, and playing with kids that most certainly are the face of aids.. I am tired of noticing holes, not being as filled as I need, being towed around and the miscommunication. I am tired, done, and ready to move on. Our African countries just don’t make the top of my list. It is not that I didn’t enjoy it, or that God did not use it for big things, or even that I do not think that God called me here. There are so many parts of Africa and it’s culture that are truly exquisite.
African church services are truly one of a kind, if you get the chance you should go someday. We are talking no Sunday outline to follow, or choir to lead you through a song. No same person always talking every Sunday. One person leading the song and everyone joins in. Meeting at the local school, because it is far more important to go where the people are, because the people are the church. I could go on about their friendliness or their smiles, about little 4 years olds saying teacher, teacher every morning and just wanting to touch my hand as I walk in or about Constance and Wilson who still have so much zeal for life and just love sitting and talking with Us. Those are the parts of Africa I have loved, they have been significant to my time here.
I am tired of the language barrier, English is a popular second language here and people seem to know just enough. But the jokes do not translate well, I often do not know whether to laugh or respond seriously sometimes causing me to spin into a stressed fuming mess.
I have felt like an annoying abyss that someone just wants to get rid of all month, just get me out of Africa already, I am done. But one night right before we left I was sitting at church trying to put a smile on my face but it was very half hearted. Finally we sat down to eat and a man named Steven sat next to me. At first we did not really talk, munching on the delicious food set in front of us.
But God still used me, even though I was fuming, and just in a weird place all day he still has divine appointments designed for me. As I sat there Steven began to talk. First things about the group I was with and slowly it turned into a Swazi cultural history lesson. We weaved from my group to commonalities between Swazi and America which lead to a conversation about the poor.
He began to tell me of a time in Swaziland when no one was poor, because the different tribes took care of one another. If you did not have much as a young man and were about to marry than the chief would step in and offer you his cows so you could pay for your bride. At least 7 cows for a potential wife. He would graciously give you that loan telling you to repay once you and your wife had a daughter and she was finally married. Its funny how no talk of interest was mentioned in this story or how there was a level of understood trust that you would repay that debt years later. It was so beautiful to sit and listen to him talk about his own culture.
We talked about how common divorce has become, or how men here are still considered above women, how the dividing lines of Denominational religion are beginning to fade, and the importance of traveling and getting to know some part of the culture where ever one travels to because they deserve the respect of you trying to meet them where they are at.
Traveling the world like this is not easy. Being in a different place every month wares on you. Every time you start to get comfortable life changes again. It is time to move or something else happens. But what you begin to learn is to notice those around you, the importance of attempting the language even if you aren’t very good. Because even an attempt shows someone your not here to just preach right at them. But you care enough to try and bridge a gap. You care enough to learn so you can know more about them. You learn that even in a short day or couple weeks you can be the light of hope shone into their lives. Even one night of conversation can travel one down a path that God will take their hand and guide them down toward the rest of the life he truly made for them.
Truth be told this year is more than simply serving in 11 different countries, and bigger than converting 1,000s to Christ. It is about self discovery of what God calls us into to further his kingdom. It is about our one true father using us in his children’s path, their path to give grace, mutter words of his love, pray and learn what it means to truly live as he has called. It is a year of finding your identity as a child of Christ and allowing community to challenge, grow and love you even when your messy.
That even when you are a fuming mess God still chooses you, it doesn’t matter how inadequate or in that moment you would rather do anything else and even when you have days where you want to turn your back and sit in your own pit, God picks you right back up and places you right where he needs you.
You just have to choose to see it, embrace it, and be real with who is sitting next to you.
