From the moment I stepped foot on this continent, I’ve been overwhelmed with the perfection of it all. Driving from Lilongwe to my ministry site in Blantyre, it all seemed like a dream. The rolling hills, green landscape, towering mountains, dirt roads, and colorful side markets took my breath away as I gazed out our window, wide-eyed and mystified at the scene unfolding around me. It rains every day on the tin roof, and everywhere you turn there are the cutest of little ones laughing and smiling, begging you to play with them. Even our first day of ministry was like a scene from a movie: we walked through the village, picking up the kids and taking them to sit under the great, big tree to sing, dance, and tell Bible stories.
It truly is picture perfect.
But just like everything that seems all too good to be true, reality eventually hits you, and you realize that within this picture-prefect African bliss, you are still halfway across the world living a life of hard, intense, Kingdom building mission.
After leaving the spot under that great, big, “Jungle Book” worthy tree, we migrated to a vastly different village. By day, it looks like any other village, but by night, the music gets louder, the drug traffic increases, and the stench of alcohol infiltrates the air. As my team walked through the pathways of the village that morning, we felt heavy, as if the weight of the world was literally resting upon our shoulders, and when we started to play games and sing songs, we realized that these kids weren’t as calm and collected as the others were. They were rowdy and rambunctious, aggressive and loud, a product of their crazy, broken upbringing. All in all, they were a draining bunch. We would walk into this village with our cups overflowing with excitement for what the Lord had in store for us, yet when we left, our cups had been emptied completely.
Slowly but surely, I began to resent it all. I resented the fact that these kids grew up in such a dark place, knowing nothing else. I resented the fact that these people, the people the Lord told me He so deeply loved and cared for, were stuck in this never-ending cycle of poverty. Homesickness became a real thing as I realized I wouldn’t see my parents for 3 more months, and I wouldn’t sit at my favorite corner in Jittery Joe’s, eat Mama’s Boy with with my best friend, or jam in the car with my sister for another 6. Instead of walking these dirt roads amidst my seemingly blissful African escapades, I could be walking the streets of a university campus. I could be in my bed at home (in the AC), but rather, I’m sitting under my mosquito nest, in a house with finicky electricity and temperamental water lines. I hit an all time low of utter apathy to this crazy, crazy mission, a point in which I was tired of it all: the exhaustion, sense of defeat, disappointment, and emptiness.
However, being the good, good Father that He is, the Lord quickly snapped me out of my wallowing and gave me these tiny blessings to remind me why I signed up for this life:
He gave me African worship services, an atmosphere that has quickly become one of my favorite things in this world. He brought some of the boys from that tough village to church to worship with us, a reminder that the seeds we plant are never for naught. He gave our team an afternoon of laughter and gospel music as we attended one of our dearest friend’s fundraiser for his band, an unforgettable experiences full of fellowship and joy. He gave us a home surrounded by beautiful, towering mountains, a scene that has slowly become my sanctuary with the Lord. He gave us sweet village kids that call us “friends” (and “azungus”), and the best part of it all, He gave me the reminder, through our pastor, that being fishers of men is a privilege, our pride, and our joy.
When I realized all of these things, this life truly did become picture perfect.
The race is hard. It’s kind of messy and oftentimes full of brokenness, but it’s still its own kind of perfect. You’re faced with challenges every single day that you can either embrace or wallow in. There are moments where you just want to be back home in a state of familiarity, but at the end of the day, the race is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. The Lord is teaching me some crazy beautiful things about His character, His Kingdom, and my place in it all, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Was this week harder than hard? You bet. Do I miss my family and friends something awful? You better believe it. Did I dream of that flight home in late June? Debatable. But despite all of that, can I still say it is a picture perfect sort of life?
Absolutely.
Thanks for all the prayers and support! The Lord is definitely moving here in Malawi, so please continue to pray for me and my new team!
