Love. 

God used my time in Africa on the Race to change me. Literally. I believe that I am a different person even now in Romania than I was during my time in Asia. Thinking back on all the things I’ve experienced in the past 8 months makes me smile at the faithfulness, the goodness, and even at the mystery of my God.

In Africa, I came to a new place with weakness, with freedom, with love, and with confidence in the Lord. Before shedding more light on this, I wanted to share with you something that I wrote in my journal back in Swaziland, three months ago. This night was so sacred for me, so special. I’ve realized that this exact night has proven itself to be so significant in my journey. Its significance lies in the fact that this night was the start of God speaking to me about specific things, it was the start of the most renewing, redeeming three month of my life. This night was the doorway that God welcomed me into in order to start seeing the power of His love manifest in me and in my life, in ways that I had never experienced before, through the power of the Holy Spirit who dwells inside of me.


view from the top of the mountain at El Shaddai in Swaziland

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Saturday, November 15, 2014 – El Shaddai, Swaziland

Last night, we joined in worship with the squad that is currently here and on their last month of the World Race. It was in the chapel. A large circle was made out of the wooden benches, of which everyone was seated with their little buddies on their laps or cuddled up beside them. The whole room was dark, only being illuminated by the lanterns and candles that were placed in the middle of us all. Near to these fires, you would be able to pick up colorful flags to dance with and to worship Him with. It was such a sacred setting, and I just knew that the Holy Spirit was all over the room, and that the Father was smiling at the sight of all His children, at the sight of His children singing, His children dancing. Uninhibited, eyes closed, voices were lifted and the whole room was filled, nearly overflowing, with an awestruck wonder of where they have been and where they currently are. One hell of a journey of which they are preparing to fold up and take home with them in just a few days. Distracted by a girl who was dancing in the middle with two red, mesmerizing flags, I picked up my feet and sat behind it all.

I wish you could have been there.

The entire room was glowing with colors that reminded me of a sunset. I looked around the room and saw people on their backs, people on their faces, hands lifted, hands down, arms spread out, eyes closed, eyes opened, and the back and forth swish and swoosh of tranquilizing flags and movements that put you into a sort of daze. Only God, I thought to myself, only God can stir up sacred moments like this. To my right was an African girl, young and timid, but not when it came to worshipping the Lord. Her hands were trembling, her head was covered with a flag that she had been twirling, and she sang triumphantly yet desperately. I closed my eyes as the words “I am yours, and you are mine” poured down all around me, and my eyes became wet. Jesus, more moments like this. Stretching out my hands in the dark, I let my tears fall as I sat upon my weaknesses, which rested upon His strength alone. I felt warm inside, and even while seated, my feet couldn’t stop moving. My feet couldn’t stop dancing.

I opened my eyes to a little, African girl wrapped in a blanket standing in front of me.

“How are you, Richelle?” My eyes widened out of bewilderment of this little girl knowing my name.
Did I ever tell her? I don’t think I even said anything, I just smiled as she sat herself down next to me and pressed her head against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and held onto her tightly, embracing her, feeling like I was holding an angel. I continued to cry, and she began to sing as my tears dripped down and onto her shaven head.

“Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander” she sang as I held her. She slowly unraveled herself out of my arms, and she walked away. I watched her closely as she disappeared into the darkness that lay past the doors.

“Holy Spirit you are welcome here.” Voices sang louder, but mine was silenced. 

I fell back uncontrollably into a place of just me and my Father, thankful, I drowned out the rest of the voices and placed my hands in front of my face. I held onto His face as He held onto mine, and I rested in the all-consuming colors of His steadfast love for me, which still filled the room like a sunset. It felt like a painting. Though the music ceased and the lights turned on, you could feel everyone’s hearts still singing songs of joy, songs of triumph.

And there she was. The little girl in a blanket.
She came toward me and fell back into my arms.
I held her face and asked her, “What is your name?”
“Nothando” she replied
“What does your name mean?”

She smiled and said,
Love.