The end has come , but not forever

Now that we are done with ministry we have spent the past two days simply enjoying this continent and God's ridiculously majestic creation. I saw Victoria falls for the first time yesterday afternoon and was absolutely blown away. Holy cow. I have never seen something so breathtaking in my entire life. There are no adequate words to explain it so you will just have to see it yourself. Wow.

Today we went on a water/land safari. To see elephants, giraffes,and every other natural African inhabitants in their natural habitat is incredible every single time. It never gets old. It's been such a blessing to get to enjoy all of Gods beauty and creativity here at the end of our time in Africa. 

I am so sad that this special time had come to an end, but I am expectant for what The Lord had for me in my future African endeavors.

He is faithful. 

Lessons from Moses

For the last two days we have been in Lusaka without any wifi so I feel like I have a lot of blogging to catch up on.

 I don't know how else to describe the last two days other than bittersweet. My Jesus is so good to me. With every passing day I feel like get another glimpse of His heart. How cool that the God of the universe would share that with me! For the last two days I had the opportunity to love on, play with, and talk about Jesus with 400+ orphans. I love those little children, but I have found the God always allows you to connect with one on a deeper level. His name was Moses. He was gentle and snuggly, but at the sight of a soccer ball he was a new boy- wild, loud, and full of so much joy. From the second we arrived at the Tree of Life Children's village Moses stuck to my side. He was my little buddy the entire time - he even enjoyed coaching the relay races with me. As time wore on I began to get little bits and pieces of Moses' story. He was a serial orphan (both parents died then he went to live with his grandma and she died) and had been living in the compounds of Lusaka all on his own, starving, until this organization found him. It breaks my heart to imagine the nights Moses spent on the streets cold and hungry for more than just food. This little one has endured so much pain, and yet, he is so full of life and confident that the God of the universe knows and loves him. At five years old Moses understands who's he is. Which led me to wonder "Who's is Moses?" Yes, he absolutely belongs to Jesus but I truly believe that it was not the Lord's plan for Moses to be three years old stranded on the streets, orphaned, and alone. Jesus didn't create too many children and not enough mommies and daddies to love them; of that I am sure. As Christians, I would argue that Moses is ours. He belongs to us. I  sure that if we heard our biological child was stranded, starving, and deprived of every necessity of life, we would do ANYTHING to rescue them. We would claw through a concrete wall to ensure their safety, but what about these children who have no one? Who will fight for Moses? Who will give the voiceless a voice? Sure, an orphan in Africa or India doesn't directly affect me and my life, but as a child of God I am convinced that it should. It should burden my heart as it burdens His. Jesus looks at us and just sees His children. He doesn't see race or socioeconomic class, he just sees His child stranded and left with no one to rescue them. And then he asks the million dollar question- " Who will care for the least of these?" He doesn't stop there, He even says that what we do for the the orphaned and abandoned  we have done unto HIM. While the world neglected Moses and pushed him to the outskirts, to the lowest level of significance- Jesus looked at him and said that's MY Moses, and because he is His Moses he is my Moses too...our Moses.  Jesus doesn't call us to indifference he calls us to action. He doesn't suggest that we care for the orphan he commands it. If as Christians we are truly in pursuit of the Father's heart than we, as the body of Christ, HAVE to stand up and give the voiceless and voice, the fatherless a father, and the hungry something to eat. As my time came to an end at The Tree of Life Moses and I shared one of the most special "see ya later" 's I have ever had. We cried...a lot...but we both knew this wasn't goodbye because we have the same Daddy. I know now why Jesus said "let the children come." There is so much to be learned from these precious, tender, hearts.

Always learning

I love African church. I don't have much to say other than that I love it because nothing else does it justice. It's like nothing I've ever experienced in America. It's loud and lasts forever, but the goodness and joy of the Lord are so evident. The church we attended this morning literally neighbored shacks. It was incredible to be able to worship and proclaim our God I'm absolute destitution . To see the joy and thankfulness these people have in the midst of so much suffering was and always is so life changing. The have real life-big problems, and still they sing of the goodness, grace, and provision of a good and loving God. I want to be like them. To be able to say "God you are good and I trust you" despite my circumstances. Everyday I am learning far more from these people than I am teaching. Blessed blessed blessed.

It happened

Today it happened. A desperate child called me "mommy." Honestly, it caught me completely off guard. So much so that I couldn't really formulate a response. A few hours later a mother in the village caught me comforting a crying child and said " you should be these children's mother. " At first I was kind of flattered, but after a bit of thinking it actually began to hurt my heart. Why do they need me to be their mommy? In a village like this, with so many people, how is it possible that there is no one to care for and comfort these children? I do not understand and am pretty confident that I never will. Everything inside me wants to be a mommy to these children but I know that now, in this season of life, I can't be. So often I feel like everything in my life changes, but the one thing that never has is that fact that I know that one day there will be lots of little munchkins running around my home calling me mommy. The kind of mommy that means forever and "I will fight for you." The kind of mommy that you run to when you don't understand and most importantly, the kind of mommy that knows she can't ever love you as much as you Heavenly Father does. But for now, the only thing I have the ability to do is to love them and point them towards a Daddy who will never ever EVER leave them. That has to be enough. It's hard for my tender heart to accept that, but I know deep down that my Jesus is enough for them. Even enough to fill the "mommy void" in their hearts. Jesus loves those sweet children more than I ever could dream of loving them, and of that I sure. He will not leave them as orphans.
Today I am especially thankful that I have a mommy who loves me in all the ways that a child needs to be loved- A mommy who taught me to love all those ways- And a mommy who raised me to love those who are unloved. I am blessed beyond measure.

Field day

Today we had a giant field day at a local stadium and all the kids at the schools we've been working at this week were invited. It was a time filled with joy, lots of giggles, and the goodness of our God....and a bit of His humor too. Anyone who knows me knows that in any competition I do not like to be the worst, and more than that, I definitely do not like to lose. But of course, my team was the worst- like absolutely terrible- at everything and lost every competition (by a huge amount.) God is a funny guy. He knows that the moment something is called a "competition" I easily lose sight of the main purpose, and just focus on winning.  So naturally, he practically removed every aspect of competition and simply left me with the opportunity to love on my team and to encourage them at their worst. Even though we lost, by a lot, I loved every so single second of it. In the midst of the competition..and the losing..I got a picture of what Jesus sees when He looks at us. A whole bunch of children who have no idea what they are doing despite the fact that they believe they do. Children who need a lot of coaching, help, and direction. And you know what? He doesn't care that we lose and lose and lose. He loves us right in the middle of our failures, and is eager to step in and coach/encourage us along the way. I love that. I love that us being so awful gave me the opportunity to make a silly competition a tool and method for explaining the Gospel.  Before we left, God had one more funny move up His sleeve. I was to leave my "fast shoes" with a sweet little boy who had been playing barefoot all day. While in principal this seems like a good idea and something that shouldn't be a funny thing for God to ask of me... I don't have another pair of tennis shoes here in Africa and I strongly dislike when my feet are dirty. But nonetheless I slipped my shoes off and slid them over to my sweet boy. He couldn't believe it and wouldn't put them on at first. When I assured him that it was okay he gladly slid his perfectly sized feet into them and looked at me with his big chocolate colored eyes and said, "thank you. Now I can win because I'll be fast." He looked so precious in His new-to-him pink nikes and was grinning ear to ear. I have never been more satisfied with dirty-germy feet in my entire life. I walked out of the stadium this evening with a heart that so full it was about to burst and feet so dirty I couldn't help but laugh.  We may have lost field day, but my team, all 12 of them,  won The Crown of Life.  

Mistaken identity

Today we spent our morning at a special needs home for girls. I thought I was ready until I walked in. My naive conceptions dissolved into disfigurement and disability faster than I could believe.  It hit me like a ton of bricks.  I was completely overwhelmed. None of this was fair. These children had no control over their conditions, but were treated as though it was their fault. In African culture children with disabilities are shunned. Often, they are believed to be cursed and are pushed to the outskirts of society. In the eyes of this culture they mistakes and embarrassments. They are believed to have little value and therefore become a "waste" of time, resources, and energy.  One of the girls named Gift (how fitting a name, right?) explained how some people in society don't even believe that those with mental and physical handicaps are humans. Hearing this evoked deep emotion in my soul  and even caused me to question how a good God could allow this to happen. I cried tears of agony and confusion on behalf of these girls, but was comforted by the fact that here, at Cheshire school, they are loved, cherished, and cared for. That even though society rejects them my good God has provided a safe and nurturing place for them to grow, learn, and thrive. 
While I don't understand these circumstances, or why they are disabled, there are a few things I know for sure- these children are fearfully and wonderfully made, they were knit together in their mother's womb with a purpose, they are cherished by their Maker, and their innocence and zeal for life is intoxicating, but most of all, they were bought with a price; the highest price. So I choose to rest in that truth today. That while things don't always make sense and life isn't fair, my God doesn't make mistakes and He surely doesn't mistake prized possessions for useless waste. 

Dancing for eternity

Today we danced. We danced because dance isn't influenced by language barriers like conversation is....and let's be honest, soccer just isn't in my skill set.  Anyone who knows me knows that dancing is not my forte or my favorite go-to activity either, but let me tell you, today I danced...and danced...and danced until I was dripping in sweat and my throat was raspy from laughing hysterically.  Somewhere between the dancing and the laughing the cultures came together in a splash of color, accents, and laughter and gave us a small glimpse of heaven. How sweet it is that heaven will have no language barriers or poverty. Just joy, and I imagine that it will look much like today. Pure joy.
As our time drew to an end at George school, my friend Agnes hugged my neck as tight as she could. I immediately felt tears about to swell up. I love this little girl. She's spunky and fun, but most of all her joy is contagious. She laughs from the depths of her belly and squints her eyes real tight when she is speaking seriously about something. As our embrace loosened Agnes looked deep into my eyes and in her soft-serious voice said "I will miss you forever." What's funny is that this statement wasn't gut wrenching. It didn't absolutely rip my heart out because it simply wasn't true. You see, today Agnes encountered Jesus and later accepted him as her Lord and Savior. So while this goodbye is sad, I know Agnes won't miss me forever. I will see her again. In a place without orphans, poverty, and pain - only joy. I'm sure on that day we will dance...and dance...and dance.
Oh, how sweet it will be.

This is home

Today we spent time at a school, an orphanage, and in the village they function in. Honestly, it was one of my favorite days I have ever spent in Africa. I'm not sure what was different, but I am sure that The Lord was stirring my heart in ways he never has before.  I am filthy, my hair is a mess, my back is aching,  I smell like monkey,  and my feet are so tired but my heart is so full. I held more hands, kissed more foreheads, and fell in love with more babies than my heart can even handle. I love these people. I love this culture. I love this continent. I never want to leave moments like these- full of grace and love that knows no bounds. Despite the language barrier and differences in culture there are a few things we share that know know boundaries- Jesus and love. 
  This evening as I was walking out of the village as the sun was setting I couldn't help but imagine that this must be how The Father feels about us. He never wants to leave the intimate moments he spends with us. In our brokenness, spiritual poverty, and filth He longs for nothing more than to just be with us. To hold or hand and walk through life with us. To laugh and cry with us. To learn and grow with us. He is so delighted to meet us in our mess. How cool is that?! I desire so deeply to never settle for life without these moments. The moments of revelation, surrender, and complete reliance on a God who brings beauty out of brokenness and full hearts out of absolute depravity. 
This is Africa. This is home. 

Back in Africa

As I sit here in Africa surrounded by absolute destitute and deprivation I am overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the crisis at hand. Children starving. Mothers selling their bodies to make enough money to buy enough food for her children to eat one meal a day. Fathers abandoning the responsibility of their children because of the financial burden they cause. Even still, in the midst of what appears to be the most unlivable and unbelievable conditions imaginable there is joy. There is much sorrow and fear, but there is joy in abundance because Jesus is doing a work here in the hearts of these people.
As I reread the story of Lazarus and many more of Jesus' miracles this morning I was aware of something I never had been before....Lazarus eventually died again even after he was resurrected. The people who's bellies were satisfied by the five loafs of bread and two fish were eventually hungry again. In the strangest way this brings me so much comfort. I don't have to solve world hunger, irradicate disease, or make sure every orphan has a mommy and daddy who loves them. I would love to see all those things happen, but that's for Jesus to do, not me. I can only love them like Jesus does and would of he was walking among them.  See, nothing here on this earth is eternal, so while Jesus' miracles are miraculous and worthy of praise I think there is more to be taken from them than the tangible resurrection of a dead man or the satisfied hunger of thousands. Jesus loved. He loved so deeply that when in accordance with His will miracles happened, but only because He loved.  His love enters into the dark and broken places. His love doesn't run from messy, but rather, meets you right where you are in the middle of your mess.  Because HE IS LOVE. Love isn't something He does- It's who He is. So even though Lazarus eventually died and those thousands of bellies grumbled again, they were still ETERNALLY transformed by the intentional and personal acts of sacrificial love they encountered through the person of Jesus. The same can be said of my time here in Africa. My prayer is that despite the fact that bellies will commence their grumbling and children will continue to be abused and abandoned that through my love SOMEONE would come to a saving knowledge and understanding of their Creator's love for them. Even if only one seed is planted or only one person comes to know the Jesus as their Lord and Savior than it is all worth it, every single bit of it. I pray that through my love they would see and understand His love- and like Lazarus, his family, and the thousands who were fed that day, they would be eternally changed by a personal encounter with the love of Christ.