"I have learned in whatever situation I am in to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things by Christ, who strengthens me."
- Philippians 4:11.
Day three.
I've now been in Kadoma, Zimbabwe for three days, and every day I'm finding a new reason to fall a little more in love. Some countries and towns you live in and pass through during the Race will demand a little more effort than others, a little more intentionality to embrace.
Zimbabwe was a love at first sight kind of love.
I know this sounds crazy. I am living in a house that, by our American standards, should be condemned. There are gaping cracks in the molded ceilings, walls and flooring, making walking in the dark a bit of a game. Any light fixtures hang forgotten from whatever outlets that once gave them life, and our water is daily pumped and stored in old soda bottles and plastic bathtubs. I share the floor with cockroaches, mosquitos and spiders. For 16 hours of the day, I am sweating my face off, driving around in a tiny truck doing door-to-door evangelism. We are all back to eating cornflakes and PB&J on the daily, and I may or may not have had a panic attack after our team was accidentally left in a locked van on an 85 degree day.
But like any good lover, it redeems itself by possessing moments of insane beauty and stability.
Yesterday, the bathtub that doubles as our water reservoir was full of stored water, so I had to take a bucket outside to find a place to shower. I came to a quiet cement room at the back of the property, hung up my clothes on a strand of barbed wire, and did a bucket shower in the shade. As I was drying off my hair, I looked around at the golden hour sunlight, the wind in the trees the only noise existing. No background rush of cars, no electrical hum of appliances, nothing. Tiny birds alighted on nearby branches like I was an African Cinderella. I'm not making this crap up - and I swear, time stood still for just a minute.
Today, I woke up at 6:30 and climbed a mountain with Pastor David and the girls, sitting on an assortment of red rocks while we took turns worshipping and reading scripture while the sun bathed the landscape in yellow light.
This place is dry tinder, laying in wait for that spark that will ignite it into a fire.
God woke me up in the middle of the night our first night here, and told me to pray for courage for our team. Being the great Christian woman that I am, this greatly annoyed me, and for a minute all I could think of was how I was now aware of the bugs crawling over my legs and feet.
But as I rolled over and looked around at our team sprawled out in the dark, I got the sense that us being here was important. Really, really important. That God would not have brought us to this place unless He had a love for these people that was greater than our love of comfort.
It's only day three, and already I am learning what I am capable of enduring. I'm so grateful I serve a God who is willing to take me to my self-established standard of comfort, and then walk me past it. I'm thankful that when I've decided I can't possibly handle another sandwich, bus ride or mosquito bite, He allows me just one more, and I realize that in Him, I'm stronger than I ever knew.
Once again, I'm growing, I'm stretching, and I'm being emptied out. Over and over again, I feel the Spirit saying, "I love you. I love you. Tell my people I love them."
And with one look around at all the beauty, opportunity and joy around me - how could I not?
