I recall the children that we interacted with; their enormous smiles, their eagerness to learn, their over-whelming joy! I see that young girl from the service on Sunday. She stood beside me, holding my hand, an absolute stranger. She would see the golden blonde strands of stray hair hanging off the back of one member of our team, who was standing in front of her. She would ever so gently, take these loose stray strands and grasp them gently in her hands...rubbing her cheek, trying to smell it. Totally amazed by the shimmering strands she held in her hands. Precious her new discovery.
Each morning, as we came to the work-site, they would greet us; "Habari"...."Murzuri"....Welcome!! Their big love over flowing onto us. This is how community should look! This is how real love, sacrificial love should be demonstrated. They would take our load from us. Both our physical load (the boxes of water bottles or supplies) and with their smiles...emotional loads & fatigue as well. I deeply cherished their complete abandon in the morning devotions before the strenuous daily work was to begin. Clapping in rhythm and singing a song praising God, thankful for everything they have even for the job not yet complete, regardless how simple it may be by our standards.
On Tuesday evening I had received word that my Grandfather had died. I had spoken with one of the pastors there on site about how I was doing. I explained to him how my Baboo (Grandfather) had gone to live with Yesu (Jesus) and how I didn't want the others to see me crying, I didn't know how it would be taken. He explained to me that "Africans cry and sorrow deeply". This statement did not surprise me, since their worship was so full, they are not a people that are luke-warm. He words comforted me. It gave me strength to finish my journey strong, just as PawPaw would have wanted.
In my strange way, I found fascination in the little things - things that would otherwise be overlooked. God used dirt to speak to me. Each morning on our walk to the church & work-site I would look down at the ground in front of me. As I watched the dust and dirt before me, I would see hundreds of sets of footprints. Some of these prints were barefoot imprints others were shoe prints. Some of these were even the imprints of our very team. We were leaving an imprint in foreign soil. God spoke to me in the simplicity of dirt.
He again used dirt the morning we were to leave. We were to share with the community on Saturday morning, again, looking down as I headed into the church, I see sweeping designs brushed into the dirt beneath my feet. I recalled the woman who was "sweeping" at our hostile. She used a crude, handle-less tied together bunch of branches. Hunched over, she swept away the dirt that blew in overnight. Here before me, was the evidence of that same sweeping. Apparently that morning a woman from the congregation had swept half moon designs in the dirt and dust down the side along the church. This simple act, reflected her sacrificial stewardship toward the house of God.
Upon our return home, I have been asked how I feel about our trip. After these and many more experiences, part of me is angry at how callous we are toward our worship services. How we take everything we have and everything we are for granted. We are abundantly blessed and yet we selfishly and greedily scrape for more. I remember the young children with their flip-flops held together by scrap cloth. Their clothes torn, tattered, and yet their worship was wide open and their love enormous! Then I recall some of the students here that will be heading back to school in the following weeks and their feeling of entitlement that all of their supplies should be new and they simply couldn't show their face without that perfect new outfit.
Where have all our priorities gone? Does God simply shake His head in disapproval? We have become a luke-warm Christian culture that simply wishes to be entertained and appeased. Tickle our ears for an hour but heaven forbid that one minute of the message will influence the remainder of my life Monday through Friday. Oh and if the message offends me, I will simply pull up and head out (as Pastor said) to one of the other flavors of churches out there, who will entertain and cater to me. Yes, a part of me is angry and disappointed at myself for just going with the flow and being content with mediocre.
The title "Christ-follower" takes on a whole new meaning now. As my Dad revealed to me, I have a big heart and on this trip, my heart was completely broken. I am not done "unpacking" everything going on in me just yet. But I sincerely, deeply praise God for the opportunity that He provided for me to go and experience real love, real joy, and real contentment.
No comments:
Post a Comment