Africa, Revisited - part 1

Back to Africa?

I felt the call to go again on Wednesday morning, May 12th. There was nothing special about that day, and no particular reason to be thinking especially about Africa. But the thought entered Hey, what about the August trip? and for some reason the thought lodged, like a piece of dry powdered donut that just won’t swallow right. My usual inclination is to dismiss thoughts that don’t jive with Beth’s Preconceived Order of Things, but for some reason I decided to give this one my ear, if only for a moment. I made a deal with myself, and God, if He was indeed the one daring to suggest I do things somebody else’s way other than my own. I will try this idea on, like a new winter coat. I’ll wear it around for an hour or two this morning and see how it feels. And then I will most likely shuck it off and hang it in the closet where it belongs until it is what I deem the proper time to wear it. And I think at that point that maybe I heard God laugh.

Arguments

Over the course of that day, I started to sweat underneath that layer of the Africa coat. Part of me really wanted to keep it on, and part of me really wanted to rip it off. The timing is all wrong! It is too soon! But too soon for what? Sooner than I had imagined, sure. Sooner than many people would think it was prudent to return, certainly. But not too soon for the people in Malawi. Not too soon for all of those people desperate for someone willing to come and share with them what it means to live a Christian life. The kids will be in school…just go look at the calendar! Yup, school would already be in session. But wait, that simply means that 3 out of 4 of my children are already being cared for from 8:00-3:00 every day. Doesn’t that actually work in my favor? And hrm, what is this? The realization that most of their busy calendar activities don’t start until after Labor Day. The reality upon looking that my calendar is very blank those two weeks. Money! You don’t have enough saved up yet! No, but I did have a decent start. And I could use my church’s fundraising program, sending out letters for additional sponsorship. And what an excellent excuse to share with even more people about my trip, regardless if they felt led to contribute financially or not! There was the distinct sound of a zipper. I had the sinking feeling that this coat wasn’t coming off any time soon.

Busted!

I’m going to have to tell this. There’s nothing like knowing a secret you will be forced to spill eventually. Everywhere I looked I wondered What will he think? Is she going to have a cow? Maybe I can just change my mind and forget I’m even thinking about this. But then I thought about Jonah and knew I wasn’t interested in seeing God’s version of my whale. I saw one of my prayer partners that night at church. She mentioned Africa, and the upcoming trip in August. I’m no poker player, obviously, because she peered at my face and said You’re going back, aren’t you? I admitted I was considering it, and asked her to pray for me, because whether I ended up going or not in the end, I was going to have to go home and tell my secret. She beamed at me and I felt a moment of relief.

Revelation

I’m going to be sick. Am I crazy? Am I just so excited about my March trip that I’m getting ahead of myself? Or am I just inflating my ego by projecting some made-up self-importance that leads me to want to go back again so soon to prove that I’m somehow needed? Or is God truly calling me to go back in August? I put it off as long as possible, which is standard for me. It was after lights-out, which is also typical. That way I can hide in the darkness. I won’t have to see whatever it is I will see on my husband’s face when I tell. Of course he knew something was wrong. He always does. Sometimes he pushes me, with varying levels of success, and sometimes he doesn’t. I love it and hate it when he pushes. Tonight he didn’t have to push. It all just came spewing out, in a cryptic and tangled rush. But I eventually got to the bottom line. I’m not for sure but I think I need to go back to Africa with the August team. And his ultimate answer? Pray about it. Be patient and not anxious as you wait for an answer. But if God is calling you to go again, you go. We will work out the details here at home. I make up a lot of trivial things to be disappointed about along the way, but it’s times like these that I don’t question why I love this man. Sometimes he knows just the right thing to say.