Africa Update 3: On Western Perceptions

I was told by Pr. Greg yesterday that we would be going to an orphanage this morning, but not a whole lot of details about the place itself.

I want you to think for a moment what you might expect, what thoughts run through your head when you hear "orphanage" in an African country.

Now bear in mind that I had the benefit of knowing that South Africa is nowhere near the same as many of the other countries, nothing like "Kisses from Katie."

But still, nothing prepared me for what I was about to see.

Instead of orphans, I found ...

Adoption.

I found the lonely placed in families.

I found six small, beautiful faces who don't have to wonder if they're ever going to be adopted, ever going to be loved enough to be given a forever family.

Apparently the Ingani Yami Children's Village is modeled after the Watoto school in Uganda. If you've never heard of them, you should definitely look them up!

The point of the village is not to just have orphans, but instead they bring in mothers who adopt the children. They are allowed to have no more than a total of six children, biological children included. (I think that number is correct.) The village has built homes for them where they have bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. A real home.

But let's be real, here. I'm a Westerner. I was expecting tons of little brown children, running around, looking for someone to adopt them, but instead found just six little ones, who are totally content in their homes because they have already been adopted. And just for a moment, I was selfish. Just for a moment, I wished that I had seen a traditional orphanage.

And just as quickly as that thought came, I heard The Lord in my spirit whispering that this is so much better. The beauty of adoption is His plan! These children are blessed more than they can know.  And instead of wishing that they were like the others, I wish that every orphanage looked like this one. I wish that every child knew that they are worth someone leaving their own community, moving to where the need is, and adopting beautiful little children. Showing them that they are precious in the sight of God.

Today, I didn't see an orphanage.

I saw a little glimpse of heaven.

Africa Update 2 - Learning to be still

I am a social butterfly. Anyone who knows me, knows that I love to be in the middle of the activity. And not only in it, but usually somehow organizing it. I love people. (Although I do require my alone time.)

Last week when my mom and Jessica were here, we were going like crazy. The few times that we had as down times, we would absolutely crash and just lay there. I was never lonely. I was never awake long enough to be lonely. And apparently when I'm tired enough, I snore. Sorry, Jessica.

Jessica left on Friday afternoon, and my mom left on Saturday afternoon. After that we still had a night of conference and Sunday morning to go, which kept me busy still. Monday was a break day, which I think we all so needed. A day at the mall, eating some awesome italian food, just chilling, were all perfect. The next day was also fun as I got to back to the secondary school and see a lot of the students, hang out with my new friend Crystal and her family, eat some good Indian food what! and come home exhausted.

And sick. 

Ugh, it seems like I can't switch seasons without my body deciding that it needs to have a cold. And here in Durban, it's winter. Well ... it feels more like fall to me. But it's definitely not the boiling summer I just came out of in Georgia. And while that feels good, my sinuses decided they needed some adaptation time.

So Wednesday, I stayed at home sick. And was so. stinking. bored.

I'm not good at being sick. I'm not good at just resting. But I learned multiple things that day:

1. There was nothing I could do about it. Just because I didn't want to be sick didn't make a difference. The best thing I could do was rest.

2. God still has a plan. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is where I'm supposed to be, so even having to be still for a day is in His control. In fact, it's a lesson I probably really needed to learn.

3. I could wallow, or I could make something of it. I decided to listen to sermons from Bethel church, download Lisa Bevere's new book Girls With Swords, read my bible, accomplish some journaling and other things I had meant to do, etc. I had more options than just having a pity party. I sent out invitations to my pity party and nobody came!

4. Even though the enemy might like me to think so, I am not forgotten! Several friends from home randomly contacted me that day to let me know that they were thinking of and praying for me. I think it was God's way of giving me a little surprise. Because He loves to do that!

Even after that day, I still haven't been terribly busy this week, but that's ok. I've had some unique experiences but also have just lived life. I've been able to really build a friendship with Kristen, Pr. Greg's wife (who encouraged me to blog again! Thanks!), love on their three children, and just spend some time getting to really live day to day. As I was babysitting yesterday I was trying to wrap my mind around the fact that sometimes being on the mission field means hanging out with three little boys and building sand castles with them in the sand box. In fact, a lot of times life on the mission field isn't glamor or crazy awesome stories, it's just living your life out loud for Jesus right where you are.

And for some people, the right where you are includes a gorgeous city named Durban, in the beautiful country of South Africa. And you get amazed all over again that God chose you to be a part of an amazing story.

Africa Update 1

Hello from South Africa!

I'm sitting here on my bed in the bed and breakfast I will be staying in while I am here. It's rather gorgeous here. In South Africa. You know, where I live for two months. What the heck?!

It's been a little crazy getting here. Jessica, my mom, and I flew to New York and then had an 11 hour layover in JFK. I do NOT recommend that. Sorry JFK, but you're miserable.

Jessica and I then continued to Dubai with a twelve and a half hour flight. Dear heavens. We then had one more flight to Durban, which was only eight hours. Only.

When thinking about coming here, I had a lot of fears and presumptions about what my feelings and reactions to things would be. I assumed that I would cry when I got off the plane, being overwhelmed with the emotions of being in Africa. I was overwhelmed, all right.

By the 350 people in line for passport stamps.

When we walked through and saw Pr. Greg, the only thing I could think of was a bed. I didn't cry. I was happy, but I didn't cry. And then when we did ministry, I assumed I would fall in love with the people of Durban.

Ok, that was correct. I love them. I am already sad that I am only staying for two months. (Although I'm sure we'll revisit those feelings later.)

We visited a secondary school (like a high school) and a foundations school (Pre-K through second grade) and all of those beautiful children stole my heart. I'd like to put them all in my suitcase, but something tells me customs wouldn't see things my way.

And then I realized my largest source of nerves: the church.

I love my church. New Hope has been my home for 10 years, and the thought of going to something completely unfamiliar was a hard thought to bear. Leaving my spirit-filled, crazy people made me so nervous. So last night we had our first service. And dear heavens were my fears unfounded.

I felt like I was home. God spoke to my heart and let me know that He had guided every step of my way, and no way was He going to make go to a church whose heart didn't beat in rhythm to His. We sang "Break every chain" (CC I obviously thought of you!) and Holy Spirit was so powerful. There was a moment that Pr. Greg called everyone down front who wanted their chains broken and I stood in a place of freedom, but feeling like I should go down. God spoke to my heart and said "it doesn't matter if you're free, they're not. And either these people are your church whom you will fight alongside for two months or they're not."

So I got my butt to the front. And the moment I stepped up there I realized that these are the people I have been praying for, for a year and a half. The people at the altar had consumed my thoughts for the past year and a half, and I was literally standing in the promises of God.

And then the tears came.