Struggling through Africa

Africa was enchanting, frightening, beautiful and incredibly hard.  It's a place I've wanted to visit for almost as long as I can remember.  I used to dream of being a missionary living in a foreign land, taking on a new culture, living in a small hut with a dirt floor, so going to Africa was one of those small dream-come-true type of adventures.

I've been home for two months but it's taken me a while to process everything I experienced.  It wasn't as easy to transition back to everyday life as I thought it would be, including enjoying our solidly build, beautifully furnished home and church and abundant meals lavishly provided by our fully stocked Trader Joes.  On our first Sunday back home I was finishing my prep work in our children's Sunday school classrooms and checking to make sure our teachers had everything they needed before I slipped into service which had already began.  As I took my seat in the front row next to Chris I inhaled a deep breath and felt a tightness grip my chest and I wanted to burst into tears.  Just days ago I was at Pastor Sangini's church out in the bush in a hut with corrugated metal ceiling and walls for service, then teaching Sunday school in the dirt under the shade of a large tree.  We didn't have classrooms, Sunday school curriculum (now they do, thank you lbcf), desks or supplies, the church didn't have doors, electricity, sound equipment or instruments but the hut was filled with people worshiping together and seeking Jesus.

As I stood in the front row of our fully furnished sanctuary my eyes wet with tears and my mind lost in the bush in Zambia, resentment began to creep into my heart.  We have such a lavish life style, I wished I could go back to Pastor Sangini's church in the bush and live simply, loving Jesus and sharing His love with others and caring for those in need.  I didn't know what to do with those feelings of resentment so I began praying.  Over the next few days through prayer and sharing with those around me my resentment and bitter feelings toward America and our culture began to shift.  One of the most beautiful parts of the Gospel and Christianity is it meets you right where you are, where as other religions bring a culture along with them.  If you were to walk into a Mosque it would look like most other Muslim places of worship no matter what country it was in, similar to Buddhist temples, they have a culture that you must enter into to participate in the religion.  But Christianity looks like the culture it is in.  In Zambia Africa most people live in huts with dirt floors so their churches are huts with dirt floors and in America most people live in solid structure homes with electricity and carpet so our churches look the same.  American church buildings with their decorated walls and high-tech sound systems are just a reflection of the culture we live in.  I found myself thanking Jesus for our church buildings and Sunday school classrooms, instead of feeling bitter towards them I can celebrate the beauty of the Gospel that meets us right where we are.

I am struggling through many other experiences I encountered like children and their families only having enough money for one meal a day, consisting of corn meal cabbage and broth. Some of the kids I taught in Sunday school walked for almost two hours to get to church that morning, most with empty stomachs.  One day we were walking through one of the compounds and saw a woman selling small bags of what looked like little white rocks.  I learned they were in fact rocks and she told me they were food.  Yes, these people are eating rocks.  She told me the rocks were a great source of calcium and perfect for pregnant women.  My stomach sank as she was speaking to me.  Here I am this young American woman looking forward to Chris and I getting pregnant next year so I am going to my naturopathic Dr. and taking all kinds of herbal remedies and supplements in hopes that I will have good nutrients in my body for a healthy baby and these women are eating rocks.  I felt sick to my stomach and totally helpless.

There are so many needs.  I feel like I opened Pandora's box in my heart and there is no way to shut it.  These experiences and images will forever be burned in my mind, haunting and beautiful alike.

I am grateful for our trip to Africa and all I encountered, for Rob and Naomi who warmly welcomed us into their home and their lives, for Pastor Bruce and Christabella and their mission to open a free school for the children in the compound,  for all the precious children I hugged, worshiped with and played with, for the safari and beholding the wonder of creation, and that I got to do all of this side by side with my beloved husband.

I will choose to live in the tension of poverty and wealth, desperation and abundance and endure the struggle of life and death as long as my Abba is with me to build His kingdom here in the midst of it.