Today was a blissful day. I woke up around 8, went for a run on a beautiful beach, had an omelette for breakfast, played ultimate frisbee on the beach, and spent the rest of the day exploring the city of Cape Town.
After playing ultimate frisbee for awhile, I took a water break and and sat in the sand; I was lost in thought about the past few months as I watched the waves crash into the huge boulders surrounding the beach. I felt like I was living in a surreal life, as I often do when the pace of the day slows and I’m left to ponder all of the unanswered questions and thoughts about what God has been teaching me.
I’ve had many things to process through since we were in Zambia; today, while it was just me, the sand, and the sound of the ocean, God began to stir my heart about some of the things I experienced.
Before the race, I kept a lot of things to myself. You know the drill…I had a few not so great relationships that led to my mistrust of pretty much everyone. With each of those experiences, walls began to form around my heart. Many of those walls have been broken down since I’ve gotten to know some of my amazing brothers on the race, many of which have helped me realize that even though there are a few shady characters, all guys aren’t that bad.
But, the condition of the country of Zambia caused those walls that once surrounded my heart to begin creeping up again. I was asked for money every time I walked down the street. Most people on the streets didn’t care about getting to know us, getting money was most of their ulterior motives. People yelled muzungo (white man), then laughed any time we spoke; everywhere I turned people seemed to be deroggatory or expectant of what they could gain from having a conversation with me.
There were drunk people everywhere, mostly men. Each time we made our way to town to get Internet access or visit the shops, men would speak so closely to me that I could feel their breathe on my face. They would grab my hand or make clicking sounds as if I would respond to the call that is similar to that of a dog; something I’m not too fond of, anger welled up inside of me every time it happened.
So, each time I walked the streets, my heart became surrounded with walls. I hardly spoke to people…I hardly even glanced at people. I kept my eyes focused on the destination and walked as quickly as I could. The depression that consumes the country of Zambia began to have an effect on my own attitude. I felt like I was swimming, but couldn’t get anywhere; I was fighting the current of the heavy spiritual climate, but it was sweeping me into the depths of the water. In a way, I felt like I had nothing to pour out into the people around me. My own cup was dry so how could God even begin to use me to pierce the darkness of that place?
My heart ached for the women in the church; this is their life, they are spoken down to, they are beaten, and most of them have no education or skills to get a job to support themselves. They’re stuck in marriages with men that aren’t Christians, instead of seeking Jesus they find their comfort in alcohol. I would look at them and see the beauty of their hearts, then walk the streets and meet the men that were responsible for tattering the remnants of their self-worth and confidence. Honestly, it took all of my self-control not to ask any of the men what the hell they were thinking. I struggled with wrapping my mind around the problems they bore; I was so overwhelmed.
Through all of this, God’s been teaching me that my actions can be faithful to Him, but the condition of my heart is what really matters; I can plaster a smile on my face and go through ministry with everything seeming to be fine, but it’s all meaningless if I’m not serving with love.
If the Bible tells me to “guard my heart, because life flows from it”, then my heart must be meant to be something precious, something pure and undefiled by bitterness, malice, and regret. Companies, governments, and individuals don’t employ guards unless they have something valuable that they want to protect. So, the question is, is my heart worth guarding? Am I treating it as a precious jewel that is worth hiring armed guards to protect it? Am I protecting my heart from situations and people that will cause it to become bitter? Am I speaking truth about the good qualities in people when the easy thing would be to form a grudge in my heart? Am I guarding my heart?
Do I speak to people out of duty or do I speak to them because I love them? Do I talk to them about Jesus because Jesus wants to know them and His desires are my desires, or do I talk to them because I know I should? Are my words loving and patient? Do I answer the same question 10 times cheerfully even though it’s my biggest pet peeve to repeat myself, or do I grudgingly oblige and answer the question again, all the while making sure that the receiver knows how much it irritates me?
These are questions that God asked me today. Questions that, when I evaluated my heart and God showed me the truth, I honestly didn’t like the answers that were revealed. My heart was filled with remorse and it is slowly being softened again.
I know that my time in Zambia wasn’t in vain. I’ll carry with me much more than a memory of frustration and anger. Pastor Alowesha told us that our team coming to Zambia was a blessing; that cultural stereotypes against women and young people are being broken because God called us there. Before we went to Zambia, a woman or young person had never preached in their church service. God used us to leave a yearning for more…more responsibility for women to use their voices, more desire for the men to lead their church by example, and a more active involvement with the younger generation. As they say in Africa: God is good, all the time. Zambia was a hard month, but, even when I don’t feel it, it’s my decision to choose joy 🙂
