To sum up my 3-week adventure in Africa in one sentence: it
was not what I expected.
I expected it to totally flip my world up-side-down, break
my heart, and be utterly life-changing. I expected it to cause me to be totally
abandoned to the Spirit and revive my soul in a way that made me feel more
alive than ever before. In a way, it did do all those things, but definitely
not to the scale that I expected.
Not only were my expectations high, but I think everyone
else who knew about the trip had expectations similar to mine. So if I’m being
honest, it’s hard to write about this. I want to write something super sappy
and emotional and heart-wrenching, but I’m just going to be real and super vulnerable with you.
The past 3 weeks have been some of the most intense
spiritual warfare that I have ever experienced. My flesh did NOT want me to die
to self. My flesh did NOT want to surrender to the Spirit. My flesh kicked and
screamed every single day that I woke up. I was bombarded with lies, selfish
desires, and sinful habits that I thought I had found victory over but reared
their heads again. I would like to say that I rejected all of these things,
because I know I have the power to say no to these things through the Spirit,
but I would be lying. A lot of the time I fell flat on my face. I despaired, I
failed, I ran back to the chains I have been set free from.
But thankfully that is not the end of the story. The Spirit
was also fighting within me. God kept being faithful to me. He would show me he
loved me through the little (and big!) things, he would keep reminding me of
truth, he would keep giving me the strength to hold onto the promises in the
Word, he would keep encouraging me through the words and actions of Elizabeth,
Garrett, Hans, Mr. and Mrs. Pavey, and others. Like Zephaniah 3:17 says, “The
LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice
over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you
with loud singing.” I definitely experienced that.
I don’t know if I’ve ever struggled
more in my life. Everything around me was uncomfortable and unfamiliar and
hard. No electricity, no running water, no technology, no more than a few
friends, and long, hard days including manual labor. Add spiritual warfare on
top of that, and it’s the perfect recipe for the most intense pressure cooker a
person can be put in.
I was a wreck. But as David Crowder has
put it, “In the middle of the mess, there is majesty. In the middle of my
chest, is the King of Kings.” My weakness made his strength shine all the brighter.
My sin and my failure humbled me and made me realize that I really am NOTHING
without God. But he revealed himself to be EVERYTHING. One major way he showed
me this was through his creation. The landscape in Zimbabwe and South Africa is
beautiful. The mountains, valleys, rivers, waterfalls, trees, and everything is
breathtaking. I remember thinking to myself about the view I had while standing
on a cliff, “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.” And in
that moment God whispered to me and said, “When I created this, I called it
‘good.’ When I created you, I called you ‘very good.’ You are more beautiful
than this.” I realized how much I don’t believe that in my heart. I realized
how much I don’t believe that God loves me unconditionally, because it was
after a day that I felt I had failed him again. But his love does not depend on
my sanctification. It doesn’t work that way. Actually, it works the opposite
way. My sanctification depends on his love. And he always sets his love on me, yet
I refuse to believe it. I’m learning to believe it, though. These 3 weeks have
helped me in that process, because I kept failing in big ways and he kept
blessing me in big ways. I kept not living up to my expectations, and he kept
lavishing his love on me despite it all. His favor was definitely displayed to
me as unconditional.
I thought that seeing poverty would
wreck me. And don’t get me wrong, it WAS hard walking 6.2 miles with the kids
to school, some of which were only in first grade, and knowing that they do it
every morning and afternoon. It was hard to see 1,690 students in the
elementary school, sometimes as much as 50 children packed into one class
together. It was hard to see small little huts with a small amount of land which
had crops that were barely surviving. But this wasn’t what wrecked me. We talked
a lot about physical versus spiritual poverty, and how the amount of wealth you
have ultimately isn’t what matters in life. Everything is God’s anyway. What
does matter is spiritual poverty, and those who are physically poor actually
have an advantage. They are naturally humble. They can rely on God more because
they don’t have the option of relying on their wealth. So what wrecked me was
not physical poverty, but instead the spiritual poverty of my own heart. I
don’t trust God for my daily bread, I just assume that I’ll have it. Since I
don’t rely on him for my physical needs, this bleeds over into not relying on
him for my spiritual needs either. I think this is one of the things we all
really struggle with as Americans. So I found myself asking, “Why should I be
any more broken about what is going on in Zimbabwe than what is going on at
home?” From the world’s perspective, Zimbabwe is definitely worse than home.
But that is because the yardstick is material wealth. The yardstick of wealth
according to God’s kingdom is to what extent people are desperate for Jesus.
It’s hard to come back to a country where cultural lies constantly bombard me.
It’s hard to come back to a country where the pace of life leaves no room for
being still in God’s presence. It’s hard to come back to a country where
material wealth keeps me from praying, trusting, and relying on God to provide.
But it’s hard to come back to this country because it’s actually so easy to
come back to it. It’s natural and it’s comfortable. So I’m asking God, “How do
you want me to live my life now?” I don’t know yet how exactly he wants me to
change. I know it will be a long process of daily choices.
It’s crazy how a place can feel so
different yet so similar at the same time. Rural Zimbabwe definitely did seem
like a totally different world. But at the same time, it seemed natural to live
their lifestyle. We had the essentials in life. Water, food, shelter,
community, and God. That’s all we really have here in our world too, though we
try to add in so much. It was definitely more uncomfortable than at home, but
that was a price I was willing to pay for experiencing life simplistically like
they do. Simplicity is beautiful. It was cleansing for my soul.
Being in a different country and
serving didn’t automatically cause a “mountaintop” experience. I thought my
soul would be awakened and it would be so much easier to listen to God there.
But instead it was just the same daily struggle of faith and repentance. It was
the daily struggle of rejecting lies and clinging to the truth, despite
emotions. I didn’t “feel” God any more there than I do here at home. But I know
he was constantly with me and working in my heart through that ordinary daily
struggle.
It’s going to take a lot more time for
me to process everything I saw and learned. One thing I know for certain: God
is good. He’s the same yesterday, today and forever. He’s the same in Africa as
he is in America. He’s my rock, my anchor, my lighthouse. He is my peace, joy,
and love. He works everything for my good, and my trip to Africa went exactly as he wanted it to, failures and all. My expectations may fail, but he never will.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I appreciate your honesty. And if you ask me, what you just wrote above is what a mission trip should be about. In all Paul's missionary journeys he wrote about some deep struggles going on. God got the glory in all of that.
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