of women. African women. Elderly women. Honored and revered women. Women, many of whom have known and trusted
Jesus for much of their life.
plane to visit them. When the sheet for
trip assignments was passed around the room God said put your name down. I was virtually attending this meeting
through Skype and said if that line was still empty when it came to the end, I
would quickly respond to put my name there. And so, I did.
with these women. What could I possibly
as an almost 35 year old woman living in the United States have to share and
connect with a group of 60+ 70+ year old women living in the warm heart of
Africa almost 10,000 miles away from me?
heart. Then, orchestrated His plan to
put the outline and stories in my path over the coming weeks. The morning I was packing my backs and
putting the final things in the car to head to the airport, he gave me a vision
of the calendar and what would play out back in the states while I was
gone. March 19 was departure day. March
20 was a Monday, the first day of work that I would miss. March 21, 22, 23, and 24 came after that
almost completing the week. Then, I
realized that March 25 would land on that Saturday.
renewed energy. I breathe the morning
air in a little deeper. My day strolls
by a little slower than usual. It’s the day
I found the big mass on the left side of my neck. It’s the day I was surrounded by incredible
friends in a waiting room at a local hospital waiting for results of a scan
that would determine my future. It’s the
day I consumed a dinner of Oatmeal Crème Pies and Nacho Cheese Doritos. All those things that you expect to go with
that day happened. The emotions, the
conversations, the pit in my stomach, the phone call to my parents. But that night also had laughs, memories, and
big ole’ puppy dog tears.
the days that followed. But, it is not a
day that defined the rest of my life. The 3,285 days that filled the 9 years since are the days that have
defined the rest of my life. In those
days, I’ve learned what surrender, trust and obedience are all about. I’ve come to read deeper the promises of the
Old Testament and God’s conversation with a man named Abraham.
group on a cool African Saturday afternoon. You see, I stood between them and…basically nothing. They actually have time in their Saturday to
sit on a porch and talk to their friends. To watch children from their village, who make up the next generation,
play and dance in rain puddles while completing a came of hopscotch. They came to eat a good meal and hear a word
from the Lord. Now, with full bellies and a cool breeze some did sneak in a
little nap or 2, but they listened. And
These ladies make a noise with their mouths that can only be
described as a yodel. They “perform” it
in their worship, as their praise, and when they get really excited about something
as a group. I cannot even tell you what
I said, because I frankly don’t remember. But, even through an interpreter God’s promises to Abraham came through.
His promises to bless him for his faithfulness. His promises to make his descendants great for his obedience and
patience. His promise to make him a
gateway to bless others. And, in doing
so to make the name of God spread even further.
dirt we would walk upon. That was the
illustration He wanted to use for those ladies that day.
chooses to use to tell His story. Only
God could know 9 years ago that on that day I would stand in a chapel and
fulfill a dream He had placed on my heart. Only God could plan out the details and the timing of His story. Knowing that every turn, bend, misstep,
struggle, and victory along that way would weave a story He wanted to
2017. May we not soon forget the story
of God’s fulfilled promises.