Our squad is gathered together in a hostel in Macedonia for our 2nd debrief. They have an announcement. “Instead of going to Mozambique, you will be going to Zambia.” My fist thrown high into the air, you can read pure excitement all over my face. I am pretty sure I am the most excited person in the room. I get to go back to the country that ruined me for desiring the typical American dream. I get to experience the place that captured my heart for missions. I get to eat nshima again. Most importantly though, I get to visit and see my friends who influenced it all. This is an expectation of mine.
It is funny what the Lord does with our expectations. When ours get in the way, there is no space for God to work the way He desires. So what does He do? He knocks our expectations to the ground and removes them completely. This is what Jesus does with me.
I have a well thought out plan to visit Amber and Jako in the bush while the rest of my team see Victoria Falls. I have seen the falls twice and had my fair share of excursions in Zambia. In my mind there is no way I will do that stuff again over seeing my friends. I am set on this decision. I would hop on the bus with them, get dropped off before Livingstone and have my more than willing missionary friend pick me up and from there head into the bush. The only thing is I am not sure if the bus stops at the city I would go to. Since we do not know logistically if it will work out, the idea gets shot down fairly quickly and becomes a ‘no.’
How do I feel? Bitter. I am in Zambia only a 5 hour bus ride from where my heart for missions took root, and I am being told I cannot go. There are very few times on the race where I feel my freedom and independence as an adult has been taken away. This is one of them. I want so badly to try again and make this work somehow. I am about to message Jako and ask if the bus made official stops such as the one I would need to get off at. Had I sent that message, I can guarantee you I would have just gotten back from a weekend of seeing old faces again.
The Lord had other plans, dare I say better plans. I mull over in my head sending the message about bus stops, the Lord told me very clearly, “Let it go. This is not what I have for you this time.”
Let it go?
Rachael, breathe.
I let it go.
We are on a bus as a team heading to Livingstone. I have accepted the fact that I will not see them and am getting more and more excited about our teams planned outing. I see us stop at Kalomo, the exact place I would get off to meet Jako. A little bitterness starts to surface in my heart again. I’m here. I am RIGHT HERE.
My heart longs to be stepping off this bus any second now. The Lord gives me a verse: “Restore to me the joy of my salvation.” I have not memorized or read this lately. Why is this Psalm coming to my mind?
Let me tell you.
Jesus wanted to restore my saved and redeemed heart with JOY. He wanted to restore to me the joy of being in a country I love with some new and refreshing experiences. He wanted to restore the joy of living the way He made me to be: adventurous. He wanted to bring some fun memories, laughter and joy to our team. He wanted to restore joy in my heart instead of bitterness. And did He ever!
My team white water rafted on the Zambezi River, did a breakfast river safari, enjoyed some down time and drinks at our hostel, walked the gorgeous trails inside Victoria Falls (and got to sit on the edge), and had an amazing team dinner in which we splurged a little. Honestly, I cannot imagine missing out on this weekend. It has been one of my favorite memories on the race so far. It was so full of JOY!
I may not have gotten my way, but God certainly knew what He was doing in making sure I made it to Livingstone with my team. His ways ARE higher than our ways. I believe it now.
Mission of Love-I sure pray you haven’t seen the last of me!
