To the Ends of the Earth

It's been a couple of weeks since I got back from my second trip to Kenya, and I still can't quite wrap my head around everything that happened during the trip - or since I've been back. The Lord uses Kenya to absolutely wreck my world...there is no doubt about that. As I attempt to reflect on my time in Africa, I can't help but be overwhelmed by the sheer fact that I got to experience something like Kenya not once - but twice. Our God is SO good. 

So, in my effort to process, I'm just going to go through some things that I think Jesus taught me and reminded me of while I was in Africa, trying to remember that this is a continual process of learning and growth. The only way I can really explain what it feels like when you come back from a trip like this one is that you feel like you've been through spiritual heart surgery. I literally feel like my heart was ripped out, cut open, sculpted, repaired, rebuilt, and shoved back in, and I haven't even had time to let it beat again yet. How do you even ever recover from something like that...?

When we participate in trips like this journey to Kenya, we want God to show up. Sometimes we ask him to, and sometimes we even beg him to. We want Him to use us, but we also want Him to change us. We go with huge expectations of what WE can and will do. In all of our wants, however, I think we often forget that we need God to show up. We need to be reminded that our expectations should really be in what HE can do in and through us, and that without Him, we can't do anything. Want and need are two very different things. We can want all day long, but until we realize that we NEED Him - that it is an absolute necessity that He shows up - what can we really accomplish? I had to get to the place in Kenya where I needed Jesus to show up. I couldn't do it myself. Our team couldn't do it itself. We needed Him, and we were expectant. In one of our debrief sessions, someone mentioned being surprised by how God was showing up on a daily basis, and Jake asked us why we were surprised. That question put me in my place. If I understand that I need Jesus to show up, I want him to show up, ask him to show up, and then am expectant for Him, why would I be surprised when He actually does show up? Being surprised signifies doubt, unbelief, and lack of faith. Someone who truly believes that something is going to happen isn't surprised when it does. What a realization it was for me to evaluate my heart's posture on this issue - Do I really believe God will do what He says He will do? Do I really believe that He hears me and answers my prayers?

My prayer life was absolutely turned upside down in Kenya. A huge part of this came from conversations I got to have with our 410 liaison Crispoh. Crispoh is an unbelievable man of God with an incredible story. In short, his now ten year old daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumor when she was eight. Faced with the decision to undergo surgery that would most likely leave her with serious, life altering side effects or let her live out the eight months the doctors said she had left, Crispoh decided he would pray for her healing. He told me that he trusted that God could heal her, and he prayed daily for that healing. His daughter has been healed, and she is even getting to go back to school. While the end of this story is obviously amazing, and all glory has to be given to God, it's the in between time that really touched me. Crispoh told us of his time "in the wilderness," when he contemplated suicide, doubted that God would heal his child, and stopped preaching because what he was saying about God wasn't showing up in his own life. He told us about his rock bottom and his darkest days. And then he told us about the night that the Lord spoke to him - not in his head or in his heart - but an out loud, real voice that woke him up and whispered Isaiah 43 over him. 

But now, this is what the Lord says—
    he who created you, Jacob,
    he who formed you, Israel:
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
    I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
² When you pass through the waters,
    I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
    they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
    you will not be burned;
    the flames will not set you ablaze.
³ For I am the Lord your God,
    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;
I give Egypt  for your ransom,
    Cush and Seba in your stead.
⁴ Since you are precious and honored in my sight,
    and because I love you,
I will give people in exchange for you,
    nations in exchange for your life.
⁵ Do not be afraid, for I am with you...

 

And he told us that in that moment he realized that God had not - and would never - abandon him or any of His children. He realized that God is still alive, and that He still does miracles. We have to pray until we see God work, and prayer without faith is nothing. We must ask ourselves, "Do we pray because we believe God will move or just because we have nothing else to do?" Crispoh said that our wilderness is meant to humble us and teach us. We can walk through the fire without being consumed, and while we do it, we are being taught. Being molded. Being drawn closer to Jesus. What a perspective.

Over and over throughout his story, Crispoh repeated the phrase "take faith." I think he meant to say "have faith," but the words were mixed up in the translation from Swahili to English. But for whatever reason, that phrase, stated in that manner, really stood out to me. What could that even mean, to take faith? The dictionary defines the word take as "to get into one's hold or possession by voluntary action and force." Voluntary. Action. Force. Ponder those words for a moment. What a way to think about faith - as a voluntary action, a force even. It's ours. Let's take it. And, let's remember that it's not faith if we already know the outcome.

One of my favorite verses is Romans 8:25. On an index card on my bathroom mirror I have the NIV version written. It says, "But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently." As I was talking with Crispoh, he recited the verse but substituted the word "confidently" for the word "patiently." I stopped for a moment to reflect on that substitution and asked myself - do I wait confidently? Waiting patiently is one thing, but to wait with confidence again suggests that I expect what I am waiting on to actually happen. The Lord used that moment to very subtly remind me once more that my faith is weak. 

He also reminded me in that moment that as we pray and wait and trust God to answer, we have to check ourselves. Are we not hearing from God because we aren't listening? Or are we not hearing from God because we are only listening for what we want or expect to hear?

This being my second trip to Kenya, I felt like I knew what to expect. It's definitely a step out of a comfort zone to leave the country no matter how many times you've been, but I felt more ready this time than I did my first. One thing I've learned by going to Africa is that to be uncomfortable is healthy. We aren't called to live safe, comfortable lives. In fact, a safe, comfortable life could be one of the most dangerous places to be. I don't mean that we are all called to foreign missions or that we should pick up and do something "exciting" and seemingly brave that the Lord hasn't called us to do, but we should push ourselves. If we let ourselves sit in normalcy and routines, we stop seeking. We stop questioning. We stop learning. We stop growing. Stepping out of your comfort zone always draws you closer to Jesus. 

 

Even though I did know what to expect, the language barrier that often occurs while serving in Africa never fails to teach me something. Part of our work on this trip was to lay the foundation for a preschool. We had to move an extremely large pile of rocks into an even larger hole in the ground. As we worked, Kenyans from the nearby village would come and help us. At one point, a Kenyan man realized he could not lift the rock he was trying to pick up. He looked up and pointed to me, pointed to the rock, and pointed to the hole. I knew - without any words spoken at all - that he wanted me to help him. Together, we lifted the rock, and several others, into the hole. During this time, I couldn't help but think of Psalm 133:1 - "How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity." I can't imagine a more accurate depiction of this verse being lived out. That moment has to be just a glimpse of what Heaven will look like. We are all products of the same creator - brothers and sisters living to glorify and serve Jesus and let His name be known. 

Probably the hardest thing about going to Kenya is coming home. Nothing seems impossible there because we are so constantly focused on Jesus, and then we get back to America and everything changes. We live on that "mission trip" high for a few weeks, maybe even months, before we are eventually diluted again. We forget what it's like to have nothing but Jesus to rely on. We don't remember the questions that the Lord asked us in Africa like "What if we all acted at home the way we are acting now?" or "What if you lived at home with the boldness and faith that you live with in Kenya?" Imagine what we could accomplish if we let our purpose and vision be bigger than the differences we perceive to be so insurmountable. What if we remembered that, for you, "to the ends of the earth" might mean "to the end of your street" or "next to you in class" or even "across from you at the dinner table." 

Jake reminded us in our very first morning devotional that Jesus tells his disciples to come and see, come and die, and go and tell. And then he challenged us with the question "What do you have to come and die to in order to go and tell effectively?" I think one thing I really had to remind myself of when he asked this question is that I have not arrived. In fact, on this side of eternity, I will never arrive. I am a sinner in need of a Savior every single day. I have to wake up each day and proclaim the gospel to myself before I can ever be in a place that I can proclaim it to someone else. I am a worshiper every single second of every single day, and I can promise you now that my worship isn't always directed at Jesus. Until Jesus is the sole reason I get out of bed EVERY morning, I've got work to do. We have to strive to be able to lay our heads down at the end of the day and say "Today, I gave God my best." By the same token, however, we can take comfort in the fact that we don't have to be at our best for the the Lord to work through us. He can use any person in any situation at any time for His glory. Be encouraged by that.   

I was constantly reminded during this trip of how much our God loves us. He is our Father, and He cherishes us and wants us to know that. On a short-term mission like this one, I think it's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that we aren't really doing that much. I wondered after my first trip if I - or any of us, for that matter - had really made a difference. We saw people meet Jesus, sure, but we physically didn't get a lot done. How important could the foundation of a pit latrine really be, anyway? As I prepared for this trip, I asked the Lord to show me that what we are doing in Kenya is important to Him and His kingdom. I was questioning, and I needed to know that we were fulfilling a purpose. And like any good father, He continuously reassured me during this trip. He turned my doubt into a testimony.  

 

One evening when speaking to Crispoh, he took a few minutes to encourage us. He told us that we are making a difference. He reminded us that one day the children that we are now leading to Christ will be able to tell their children about the "mzungu" (white face) who came and told them about Jesus. He looked at us and said, "God never forgets. It is never in vain." Those few statements brought me to tears because it was exactly the affirmation I had asked God to give me.  

 

The next day a man named Abraham shared some of his story with us. Abraham is a 27-year-old Kenyan who works for the 410 Bridge. He spent a couple of days working with us, and he joined us in some of our devotionals and debriefs. He told us that he is a result of a short term missionary named Linda. When he was young, she had asked him to draw a picture of a cross and a Bible and then explain what they meant. Through that activity, she was able to lead him to Christ. He remembered the year, the activity, and her name. I don't think there is a more powerful reassurance than that. The Lord used a woman who was in Kenya for only ten days to completely change the trajectory of Abraham's life. It was such an encouragement to me to be reminded that the Lord can use any effort to make a lasting difference. Abraham also repeated as he spoke to us that "divine things don't have to be relevant, they just have to be divine." The word relevant can be defined as "pertinent" or "significant." In that statement, God used Abraham to speak directly to my heart. Things that might not seem significant to me can in actuality be of huge significance to God's plan. He has a perfect plan, and every time we listen to Him and do what He says, no matter how insignificant the step may seem, we are playing an important role. Abraham reminded us of the story of David and how in a time of war, God used a shepherd boy. David was faithful with his sheep, and eventually became a King because of his faithfulness. He faithfully carried out his "insignificant" role, took his next steps, and make a huge difference for the kingdom of God. Like David, we just have to take care of our sheep! What better encouragement is there than a testimony like that?

 

Being told stories like Abraham's, Crispoh's, and even King David's, I couldn't help but realize the true power behind a testimony. There are very few tools given to us as powerful as our story. I have to wonder if I truly testify to God's faith in my life as much as I should. God doesn't give us our stories so that we can keep them to ourselves. He gives them to us so that we can encourage, challenge, teach, proclaim, love, and lead. They are first hand accounts of God's love, mercy, grace, and faithfulness. Our words have so much strength. We have to choose and use them carefully and purposefully. Opening our heart to others is in itself an act of faith that allows us to open our heart to the Lord. A trip like Kenya has a funny way of making the importance of community become a daily reality. It's interesting how quickly you get to know and love the people with whom you are working. 

You can't go to Kenya and leave anything but humbled. You have such a tuned in connection with Jesus that while you are learning and growing and experiencing God's love in a more incredible way than you ever have before, you are also acutely aware of all of your insecurities and mistakes. What I love, however, is that you can't help but be reminded that your struggles do not define you. How we see ourselves is not truth. How Jesus sees us is truth, and we have to ask Him every day to help us see ourselves the way that He sees us. We have to ask Him to teach us to love the person that He says we are. The obstacles in our lives are nothing but opportunities for excuses. When our expectations aren't met, we want to give up. The funny thing is, a problem is nothing but a prerequisite to a miracle. Jake taught us that the only thing inevitable in this world is God's will. He is the restorer of relationships. He is the worker of miracles. He can fix brokenness. He can heal us. We don't have to - don't get to - give up, because He won't give up on us. Repentance is not a chore. We GET to let Jesus change us.