I’m sitting in my room on a rainy Sunday evening. I have a few candles lit and I’m sitting on my floor watching the rain fall on the side yard (I know, it’s a very “emo” moment). I was looking over the wall across to the field next to our house. There is this tree that I’ve looked at so often but I just realized that I have never really “seen” that tree before. I mean it’s been there the whole year and half I’ve been here but I’ve never really looked at it. Actually, I have no idea what kind of tree it is. I’ve never seen one like it in America. Which makes me realize that I’m in AFRICA!!!!! Yes I am in Africa…but I forget that most days, more like every day. Maybe you have to live here to understand this. I’m so comfortable here and I have forgotten that I’m fulfilling a huge dream of mine. I’m fulfilling a huge part of God’s plan for my life. But like that tree across the way, I don’t “see” Africa anymore. It’s too hard.
I named this blog “Crutches” because I always have to have some type of crutch. I can’t walk here in Africa all by myself. I am completely incapable of coping without my crutch. I know many people think that my crutch should be Christ, I should never be able to walk without Him…especially in Africa. But, come on, let’s be honest. Christ is far from my crutch. I like to pick a new crutch for each new season. Sometimes it’s a good friend, you know the type you run to for just about everything. Sometimes it’s the internet or newest season of my favorite tv show (my current favorite crutch). Or sometimes it’s a guy that makes me feel significant or can be my go-to when things are hard. Sometimes it’s my family. Sometimes it laughter or a large coke light (I’m addicted!!!) Sometimes it’s even my hopes and dreams of the next phase in life.
When I’m still in moments like this, when I have an epiphany that I’m actually in Africa, I HATE my crutches. I love Africa. I love being a missionary. I love leading this team. But sometimes I just can’t cope. I can’t cope without my crutches. I can’t cope with the poverty. That’s the one thing in Africa I just can’t get a grip on. I can’t cope with the abuse and the drinking; the endless amounts of glue the street kids sniff; the men who sell corn by the bank; or the little woman from Zimbabwe who sells her beaded African animals so she can send money back to her literally starving family. I try to rest. I try to draw closer to the Lord. I hear myself telling my team that they can’t shoulder the burdens of their ministries all by themselves. They have to give it over to the Lord. Those are words from my very lips. But the burdens are hard. And I’ve gotta dull the pain somehow, right?
Fear. That’s what keeps me from letting go of my crutches and trying to walk. I am fearful of Christ not coming through for me. What if He’s not enough? What if He doesn’t come to my rescue quickly enough? What if He doesn’t do want I need Him to do? What if He leaves me hanging?
How many stories are there in the Gospels of people having to overcome their fear and just TRUST GOD? Think about that father who wanted his son to be delivered from the demons that kept throwing his son into the fire? His response to Christ was “help my unbelief!!!!” I can’t imagine what it would be like to trust God with a son or a daughter! That man must have felt threatened of losing all control. But didn’t Jesus come through? Wasn’t He enough? So I want to be like that. I am going to just trust that the Lord will come through for me when I place my crutches down and try to walk. One step at a time, right?
HE Provides,
Amber
