I’m terribly late for this blog. I would apologize, but I’m not going to. Sorry. Not sorry. I put off writing this because I don’t like sharing things very dear to my heart, and my time in Lesotho just so happened to become one of those things.
When I signed up for the World Race, I signed up for eleven countries in eleven months. I had already planned to count the two-hour layovers in random countries as countries visited too, so Dubai was technically my first country. They don’t really count. Only when I’m in competition with my pastor back home for who has visited the most countries. Right, eleven countries in eleven months, that’s what I signed up for.
I haven’t told many people this, but I was excited for so many countries because it meant that I had some connections for future long-term missions, if I felt the Lord’s calling to that. This was a cool realization. What I didn’t realize was that the Lord had a hidden blessing of a twelfth country that would steal my heart in just one week’s time. Lesotho.
The church we’ve been involved with and hosted by for this month goes on a mission trip to Lesotho once or twice every year, and they decided to send my team with the church’s team this time. On our first Sunday at FCBC (First City Baptist Church) we had our Lesotho trip meeting where we went over our plans for leading a Holiday Club and other preparations. It seemed simple enough, but then Pastor Barry stopped in to give us a few wise words. You see, Lesotho has also stolen Pastor Barry’s heart, and when he described what it would be like in Lesotho I could see his heart breaking because he wasn’t able to go on the trip this year. In seeing how dear this trip was to him, I knew that we were in for something amazing.
We’ll be staying with Pieter and Keila while in the Malealea Valley. They are some amazing people with a great love for the Lord. They will take care of you. They don’t have much, but they’ll give you all of it… and they’ll give you their best. There’s a lot of dust and a lot of dirt. There is one toilet that was recently put in and a hot shower. This may be one of the hardest weeks of your life, but it will be the best. I promise.
These were some of the things I remember being said in the meeting. I was completely drawn in. I was ready to meet Pieter and Keila. I was ready to see just how real mission work could be.
When we arrived in the Malealea Valley, when I got out of the car, my first thought was, “How can they do this?” All I could see was dirt upon dirt. Small buildings made from cinder block with tin roofing. Off in the distance I could see small villages. Houses that were a one room floor plan. Made from clay, mud, and rock. Topped with a very thick roof made from some sort of straw. How can someone live like this? They had fully prepared me for what I was about to see and I was still in a weird shock.
If I’m being honest, I was disgusted with myself for having that thought, but at the time I didn’t know why. The week I had ahead of me shed some light on the thought and gifted me with new eyes. Eyes that see what the Lord sees and not what the flesh sees. The flesh sees dirt, but the Lord sees His self-glorifying creation. I can see.
I was disgusted with myself for the thought I had because I had fallen into this mindset of “The Lord can’t love what isn’t pretty.” Yes, He absolutely can. It’s His love that makes things beautiful. It’s His hand that painted the sky everyday. He molded the mountains that I woke up to gaze at in the mornings. He walks the Malealea Valley. He created that valley. More importantly, He created all of those people in His image. He understands them when I cannot. My eyes don’t see the splendor because Malealea Valley wasn’t my doing. It isn’t what my eyes see as “beautiful”. Who am I to decide what is beautiful when I’m a broken mess? I don’t consider myself beautiful with my own eyes, but His eyes see me for all that I am and He says I’m beautiful. He says Malealea Valley in all of its dirt and gravel is beautiful. Instead of letting me carry on through the week on my own understanding He lent me His eyes, and His heart, and His hands, and His feet so that I could understand.
What I thought would be the hardest thing that week was the language barrier. Pieter and Keila, Mpho, and very few others spoke English. The kids we were leading VBS for didn’t. The adults that we had contact with didn’t. Mpho was our translator, but she couldn’t be with fourteen people at the same time. What was thought to be our biggest challenge turned into our greatest blessing… for me, anyway. All too often we lead with our words and not God’s. What happens when your words aren’t understood? They’re meaningless. But the saying “actions speak louder than words” comes to have a very bold and very true meaning. That week our actions absolutely had to speak louder than our words. Our actions had to show Christ’s love for these kids and adults. And that they did.
We had very sweet time with the kids and the people in the villages, but my favorite part was our time with Pieter and Keila. Learning their ministry there. Hearing of the successes of their ministry and praying for the hardships. Hearing in their voices the love that they have for this entire valley. A love the Lord planted in them and has since been watering and growing. The feeling of richness they give you, not because of physical, material things they have and offer, but richness because of their absolute fervent love for the Lord. I can honestly say (and I do hope you read this correctly) that I had the very least I’d ever had that week (materially, physically), but it’s the richest that I’ve ever felt in all areas (materially, physically, and spiritually.) Their love for the Lord and for His people is so massive that you can’t feel poor.
I signed up for eleven countries in eleven months, and what I’ve already received is an unforeseen, never forgotten blessing.
