The craziest thought hit me this morning: this time last year I was in shock—overwhelmed by God’s provision, because it was exceedingly abundant. He was paving the way for me to move to Africa. I felt like I had been waiting my whole life for this very thing, and He was finally bringing my dreams to fruition. I was making packing lists, raising support, excitedly sharing about how God was working through TentMaker Ministries and how he was making me a part of that, and watching God piece everything together. I remember feeling like none of this had anything to do with me. Everything happened so fast. The prompting to return to South Africa after my short-term trip here, followed by prayers for His confirmation, timing and provision. He answered in undeniable ways. My support for an entire year was raised in 3 weeks—and I didn’t have to beg a single person for money. I simply shared the opportunity that God had given me and my desire to be obedient to how he was leading me. I could not deny that God was on the move, and I hopped on the train (or plane, I guess) before I really even had time to register what was happening.
A year ago I was counting down the days until Africa would become home. My commitment was for a year—minimum. But if I’m being honest, I was leaning more toward an indefinite term of service on this continent, because it holds a huge chunk of my heart. The most formative experiences of my life have taken place here, because dependence on God is mandatory, because the simplicity of the life that people live here demands perspective shift and gratitude for a privileged white girl.
Now, 365 days later, my days in this place are numbered. I have no doubt that God orchestrated my various trips to Africa, and created in me a passion for the people here—a desire to show them Jesus. The more he brought me back, the more I had a sense that he wanted me somewhere on the continent, in some capacity, for good. That freaked me out. But because I get weirdly excited about challenges, I was ready and waiting for the call. I felt like he had equipped me through exposure to missions all over the globe and a degree in intercultural ministry. I was basically expecting him to drop the grand scheme of his plan for “my life in Africa” in my lap.
Instead, I’m moving home, to a place I said I could never do ministry. Warning: never say never. No words suffice to tell you how grateful I am for the days that God allowed me to spend in Africa, for the beautiful souls he allowed me to love on and be changed by. It’s not easy. Sharing life with people, investing emotions in them, learning from them, falling in love, and then having to say goodbye and move on. And maybe you’re asking now, “Was it all for naught?” No way. God doesn’t make mistakes, There’s purpose and power in everything he does. And I’m just grateful to be along for the ride. There’s ups and downs. but blessings through it all when we take life day by day and let Him be the conductor.I am the person I am today because of Africa. I wish I could tell you that I did more for the people than they did for me, but that would be false. God has used this place and its people to teach me, shape me and above all, draw me closer to him. I hope this is not the case, but I might never step foot on the continent again. Nonetheless, the impressions that God has left on my heart are never going away. I wouldn’t trade even the most horrible day here, because God was in them all, working out his perfect purpose in me, and molding me into someone he can use more effectively in the future because of what he’s done in my past.
So, as you might expect, it’s somewhat confusing to be on the brink of the end. The end of a chapter that I had come to believe would be my whole book. The end of spending my days surrounded by children that have enriched my life by the joy on their faces, despite heart-wrenching struggles that are their reality. The end of what has become my normal. It’s ironic, really. As soon as I got comfortable with the idea that God might transplant me in Africa, he shakes it up again. He doesn’t want me to be comfortable. He wants me to live in day-to-day dependence on him. And that’s exactly what I’m faced with right now, because I don’t know what’s just around the river bend (pardon the shameless Pocahontas reference). The looming uncertainty about my future is forcing me to grapple with what the will of God really looks like. It’s not something I’ll ever have a full grasp of; that would defeat it’s grandness. The will of God is something I must seek daily, praying continually that he would give me wisdom to discern how he wants to move in and through my life on a moment by moment basis. It can be very specific (like living in South Africa for a year to live alongside the staff, students and parents of Naledi Christian Academy under the title International Field Coordinator), but more often, it’s general, and applies to all children of God, no matter where we are, or what our job is. This general will is much more clear, and outlined over and over in his Word. He’s called me to love others. To serve as he served. To point others to God by the way I live. To be a taste of his goodness in a broken and hurting world. I can, and should, make this my way of life, every day, no matter where I am.
I cannot tell you how grateful I am that God has a plan. I don’t have a problem admitting that I don’t know what that plan is as I type this. For the next 51 days, my discipline will be to spend time in his Word, praying that God would keep my heart in tune with his activity in my life, and that I would know how to respond, obediently and gladly. Right now, I am resting in the fact that I have 51 days here. 51 days to be present, rest in him, and not worry about the future. 51 days to be a vessel of his love and light in the relationships that he has established for me here. 51 days of praying and seeking what days 52 and onward hold.
So when I get home, and you ask, “What’s next?” understand that I still may not have a “good” answer. But remind me, encourage me to live each day sharing God’s love with those that cross my path, looking for needs and striving to meet them with the abilities and resources that God has given me. Because my desire is to be obedient to God and live in his will even when I don’t know what the big picture looks like, trusting that he will weave each moment of obedience into a tapestry that will bring him glory and point others to his grace. When the path isn’t clearly marked, I pray for the discernment and endurance to make his will my way. I will always know that God planted a passion for Africa in my soul, and I’m thankful for the fruit he bore in the days he allowed me to be there. Now it’s simply time for a new chapter, a new harvest.
