Monday, June 13, 2011


I always miss Africa and the people there with whom we built relationships.  But some days- or most usually, nights- I miss Africa and her children more acutely.  I am deeply burdened, to the point that I experience it physically.  And I pray for them and think about them and love them, but it still hurts. 

And I want it to.

Not because I'm a masochist or experiencing self-hatred or something, but because I know it's part of God's way of communicating with me.  His children are hurting.  They may be a world away, but they are just as important to Him as any other human being.

He uses this pain to speak to me, to us.  Although we've been back for a while now, Josh and I talk- to God and to each other- about Africa all the time.  And He talks to us.  Not in long, drawn-out epics, but in tiny little snippets that remind us of His plan and His heart, and that remind us of where our plans and hearts need to be.

Following Him, at all cost.

And I beg Him to tell me more RIGHT NOW, because how can He expect me to live with this deep, aching pain in my heart if He won't tell me all the details of what to do about it?

But He has His plan, and His timing, and His way.
 8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
   neither are your ways my ways,”
            declares the LORD.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
   so are my ways higher than your ways
   and my thoughts than your thoughts.
                                             - Isaiah 55:8-9
I thank Him and praise Him for His Word, for sharing these truths with me.  I am so grateful that, even when I don't know, He does.  I don't need to know, because He is all-knowing and loving and trustworthy.  I cling to these verses, as I have since He turned my heart to see Him in the people of Africa. Not only does He care fore me, but He cares for them, too.

Sometimes it hurts more than I think I can bear.  LOVE hurts.  Not in some 80's ballad sort of way, but in a real, sacrificial, Savior-dying-for-my-sins kind of way.  Jesus uses this burden to chip away at the hollow, hardened shell that is my heart, exchanging it for infusions of His.  All I can do is wait and listen and be revived.

That, and find comfort in the fact that God loves these people more than I do.  Even when I love with my whole heart, it pales in comparison.  He is more than enough for them- and me.


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