Thank you for your grace and patience as we get our feet under us in this culture. I have actually posted twice, but internet failure caused it not to save! I think God really wanted us to wait, be quiet, and let him settle us in. Please know we are safe, our home is becoming home, and we have figured out the whole water thing. Electricity, well....take a look at Harmony's fun little video posted on our facebook page. She gives a cute look into how we live.
There is so much beauty here. I love watching babies with mommas in church, women display the strength of two men carrying their water supply for the day or the raising of the orange sun over the purple Jackorranda tree out my kitchen window. More information will come on the beauty and blessings here. I am feeling lead to share one of my first and ongoing training sessions with Jesus.
One picture in Harmony's video, is a blunt reality into our world here. The trash on the opposite side of our back wall serves as a constant reminder we are in a third world culture. It's not fun to walk past and often over or through bottles, wrappers, rotten food, worms, bugs, human waste and other unmentionables. The smell alone steals all our attention for the 30 seconds or so until I get by. I abhor the trash on the street here. Believe me I have asked God to shift us to a different home and he says, "No, not yet!" (Please know that we are safe from the smell on this side of the wall, I think by God's mercy alone.)
I head around the trash whenever possible, avoid it all together. No matter how I travel towards town, I have to deal with walking around, through or over the trash. It's around this burden that I usually see children sifting through for bottles they can wash and sell or a street man, whom Zambians call the local crazy. I was so convicted about passing this man by, everyday, that I started to leave an orange here, banana there. I even left him flip flops once, which I never saw him wear. He usually doesn't look at me. He just keeps picking at the rotten food he found. God gave me such a beautiful picture through him. What if he was Jesus? What if he was quietly watching and observing people passing him by everyday, me passing him by everyday? How would I want my Jesus to see me respond? I can tell you I haven't responded that way yet. It's hard. It's difficult to predict. Is it even safe?
This last time I passed through, fighting the urge to hold my nose, He stood up and smiled, looking just off to the side. But he smiled in my presence. I dare say he had joy in his step, before he found another cozy place in the cement bin. Had my minimal fruit given him joy? No, I think it is my ability to see him that promoted the smile.
My point in sharing is this is...look. In every culture there is trash. Here, it's laying out for all to see. Here, there is little room to hide behind materiel things, careers or business. It's blatant Still, trash is trash. I feel challenged to look. I feel challenged to see. I feel God's leading to understand that I have trash too.
The question God set before me is, am I content to dig in my trash and eat whatever I can find? Or am I hungry for nourishment, fresh food that only God can provide? My soul needs spiritual food and life through nourishment of the word and dwelling in his presence. If I am to live and minister here, I need to be nourished and strong. Second, I need to see.
More to come! Love from Zambia.
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