Leave Lilongwe, Malawi heading away from civilization. Turn off the paved road at the avocado stand. Bump for several miles down a pothole-filled dirt road. Pass by thousands of rows of hand planted corn, cassava and sweet potatoes. Stop at a small foot trail that works its way through the waving corn that stretches as far as you can see. Jump the giant mud puddles created by the daily rains. Follow the bare foot tracks in the mud as you wind through the corn field. Wander by the racks of tobacco drying in the sun. Listen for the sound of children…they will lead you the final distance.
These are the directions to the village where we spent a week of our time in Malawi. When we arrived, the people stared as we walked on foot paths between the mud huts. Children were excited to see azungus and babies cried hysterically at the white people. Adults stopped their farming and cooking to come look at us and shake our hand.
At first, the villagers were hesitant at the sight of a group of white people walking their trails. Quickly, we found the chief's house and our contact explained to him why we had come. With the chief's blessing, we set about preaching the gospel to the villagers. Person after person listened attentively, wide eyed at the news of a God that would send people half way around the world to teach them the path to salvation.
The people soaked up our words about a savior that loves them. Before we could finish telling them about the good news of Christ, many were already enthusiastically asking “how do I get Jesus in my life.” House after house, people accepted Jesus. More than that, they began to follow us around to other houses to hear the story again.
We later learned from the villagers that we were the first missionaries to ever visit this tiny village in the middle of nowhere Africa. As we talked as a team about the time in the village, one of our teammates made a profound statement. She said, “What an honor that God chose us to tell these people about Jesus for the first time. He could have chosen anybody on the planet, but He chose us.” At the sound of this statement, we all fell silent under the weight of that revelation. It sank in that God trusted us enough with His Word to send us out as His representatives. We were humbled by the magnitude of that responsibility. As we went back out in the days to follow, we had a new respect for the work we were doing. We had a new outlook on what it means to be a missionary in this part of Africa.
Later on that week, we were able to help with the first church service to ever occur in that village. Under the shade of trees in the chief's front yard, sixteen families signed up to be members of the new church. We left on Sunday afternoon, but God's word has taken root in the red African dirt where we sat. I think as we walked away, we all began to really understand the weight of being God's hands and feet on earth. I know we all were both honored and extremely humbled. I thank God for this opportunity and I thank all of you back home that made this possible. We love you!
