I already know that I am not the same. That I never will be the same. If I was to go home tomorrow, I would never be the same. Already.
It's weird. I'm here, and I see what America would consider “poverty.” No electricity, running water, internet always available, no washing machine or toilet, no shower head.
But these people are far from poor. It is a simple, beautiful way of life. A simplicity unrivaled in America. They are not afraid of it. They know the benefit of hard work. They are not afraid of it. They take pride in their land, the labor of their hands.
Those that are in Christ have such a joy and freedom that I desperately wish we could all break into. I wish our churches could break down the walls. Get past the idea that a church building and a high attendance number is what is most important.
I have seen such joy, freedom, raw joy in worship and glorifying praise and preaching in a house. A house with no electricity. No AC. No heater. Dirt floors. People are not afraid to sit two to a seat, or on the floor, even when a chicken walks boldly into the house, and flies are not lacking in number.
I wish there was a fire to go out and proclaim the Word. I wish there was a deeper desire to share the gospel outside of the confines of a church building. I feel a lot of times, churches want so much for people to accept Christ as their Savior, but they want those people to come to them. To come into their sparkly buildings, with colorful five step brochures, their regimented programs.
But many times, they are unwilling to go to the least of these and proclaim the Word. To be bold and speak life into people that so desperately need it. There is some unspoken fear and rule that the power of the gospel and God's power in it is somehow diminished the minute one passes out of the door of the church. That a church building is the only safe place someone can grasp an understanding of what it means to come to Christ.
I know that I have fallen into this trap. I face the fears of inadequacy. Of offense. I face the fear of not having all of the answers that I need to have, that I will somehow mess up God's plan for someone else. I have fallen into the trap of categorizing my faith, and how I share it.
The walls need to come down. Our faith in church buildings. In numbers. In parking lots and programs. Our faith resting and relying only on our pastors alone to bring people to Christ. Our walls need to break from relying on someone else to do what God calls us all each individually to.
It's time for me to break down those walls in my own life. It's time to stop waiting for other to do what God has called me to. Time to stop waiting in the shadows for other people to step up because I think they know more than I do. When God calls, I will answer.
What would it look like if America stepped up? If those walls came down and the church became alive? If we weren't afraid of speak truth into each others lives, if we weren't afraid to talk about the subjects in the Bible that others shy away from? If we weren't afraid to boldly speak of heaven and hell, of the kingdom, of spiritual gifts? If we stopped sugar coating the word? If we stopped living beyond our means and started living for God in every sense of the word?
Our world would be turned upside down.
A freedom would fall down like never before. God would be glorified.
In Africa, I have seen faith and joy and freedom beyond what I ever imagined. They are not afraid to raise their voices, no matter what they sound like, to praise our Father. They are not afraid to clap their hands and dance and jump around, even if they are the only one, even if it looks different. They are not afraid to become undone before the throne of our God, reduced to tears just at the mention of His name.
I want that in my life. That unbridled freedom to live and move and breath in Christ, in everything I do. I think that we can all take a lesson in the simplicity of life from them.
