The Gravity of Africa

I seem to be “going primitive.” Lately I prefer walking barefoot, eating with my hands and foregoing make-up (or at least more than I used to wear). I daydream about hiking through jungles. The heat of summer doesn’t seem quite as unbearable as it has in the past. I am intrigued by the mystery and deep history of Africa. I actually look forward to mosquito nets and toilets in the ground. There are, of course, things that I nervously dread, but I am a missionary and, as they taught us so vehemently in MCM, I must “suck it up and deal with it.” Yet it seems God, in so many small ways, is preparing me for some of these changes.

I don’t really know how one can prepare for a year in Africa, for 12 months spent on a continent never before touched by one’s feet. For language barriers and customs and strange bugs. But of course, no adventure would be called an adventure if not for the difficult bits. It will be interesting, to say the least, to see what exactly happens while I am in Ethiopia.

The people are lovely. Laid back and easy going, yet committed to excellence and generosity. They are passionate and quietly regal. I quite like them.

Recently I was washing glasses at the sink in Tana, listening to three men from different African countries discuss the various tribes and sports teams of Ethiopia. It is fascinating the people one meets when one chooses to walk with Jesus. For He has led me to this restaurant. He is the one leading me to the Horn of Africa. He will have His way. I choose to follow Him!

When the reality of this trip settles into my heart, when the gravity of the continent pulls my mind to dreams of dark faces and bright smiles, I am amazed. Simply truly blown away. How is it that this has become my dream? This concept of missionary, something once so far from my thoughts now the constant longing of my soul. This is a miracle stamped by God’s precious Spirit. He has a plan I could never begin to understand.

I have gone on several international missions trips; each has transformed me dramatically. And each, likewise, has created a new hole in my heart for a new people group, a new nation, a new need. At the end of each trip, no matter the destination, I have been struck with a terrible dread of truth that I must now return to America. (And this is not an anti-patriotic statement in the least!) I have just grown more and more in love with the unreached.

Now, finally, beginning September 3, 2010, the adventure begins. And it is no 10 day trip, but a full commitment to the people and dust and sweat and life of the mission field. I do not have to come home soon.

I can’t tell you how much this truth fills me with JOY.

I am thankful for the overpowering love of Christ. It is this that drives and constrains us. It is this that satisfies and guides us. I am honored to be a small part of His work on earth. His love changes us and everyone around us…