Africa...Take 1

Here is my first attempt at describing my experience in Africa. My life has been anything but linear these last couple of months so when asked to go to Africa, I jumped on it faster than Angelina hopping on a plane to pick up her next kid. It’s hard to explain Africa. It seems to be the humanitarian cause du jour; social justice is the new “black”. It’s in. It’s trendy. You can wear it on an expensive tee or around your wrist. You can sip it out of a mug. You can drink it out of a bottle. You can put in on over your newly styled coif. You can be just like a celebrity, if you choose Africa.

A fellow team member asked me, “So, why did you choose to come to Africa? Of course you felt called, but why do you feel called?” Crap. This kind of question already? We’re still in New York. We haven’t even gotten on the “big” plane. I sheepishly retorted some rehearsed answer perfected by years of ministry and knowledge of the spiritual lexicon. It seemed to appease the questioner, but it caused uneasiness in the pit of my stomach for the rest of our ridiculously long journey to Malawi. Why had I come to Malawi? Had I ever really thought about Africa more than just the CCF commercials when I was a kid and I thought you actually adopted a child? (Incidentally my brother and I would argue over getting a girl or a boy because we thought they actually came to live with you). Or maybe when I’d seen the Invisible Children film and heard about the kidnapping of child soldiers in Uganda. Then of course I heard about Rwanda, and thanks to Leonardo DiCaprio, the Ivory Coast. But, Malawi? Can’t say that I’d ever thought about it much and here I was sitting in a plane for 26 hours about to embark on an adventure I really hadn’t thought about all that much. Story of my life. Act first and sort out the details later.

The first striking thing I noticed about Africa was my annoyingly ignorant and ethnocentric view of the globe. Africa is freaking huge! You could fit nearly 6 United States inside the continent. Clearly the maps we use to teach our children have an agenda. Fly South African Airways and look inside their in-air magazine for a more accurate take on the size of the world’s continents. Secondly, Africa is not all desert or barren wasteland. Granted, I had the blessing of traveling immediately following the rainy season, but it was covered in rolling green hills, mountains, and beautiful trees and flowers . I felt this overwhelming sense of entitlement as we rode through villages each morning to get to our medical sites each day. I couldn’t help, but think, who the h are we? We travel anywhere in the world that we want. We drop in on people, on communities that have never experienced life outside their tiny village and we swoop in to do what? To save them? To heal them? To teach them about McDonald’s and running water? Who am I to come in and change anything? What do they want? What do they need? Whatever I do, I want to start with asking those questions first. One of the many beautiful things about Africa is their list of wants and needs are generally the same. Growing up in our overindulgent society, needs and wants become this indistinguishable mix of stuff. When you shake it out, distill it, you actually start to see that our needs and wants are very different things and our list of needs is small, but what would someone else's list look like?

WANTS & NEEDS: MALAWI (NTSCHISI DISTRICT)
1. Clean drinking and bathing water that is less than a mile away.
2. Bandages so lesions don’t become infected.
3. De-worming pills so I don’t get sick from my every day life and all the parasites lurking in and around my home.
4. Soap to wash away the parasites before I eat with the very hands that touch the parasites.
5. A toothbrush and toothpaste so my teeth won’t rot away.
6. Shoes or sandals so I don’t have to go barefoot everywhere.
7. A parent so I don’t have to take care of my baby sister and actually get to play with the other five year-olds in the village.
8. A husband that doesn’t leave me and our kids when he finds out I have HIV.
9. A friend I can actually talk to about being scared to die of AIDS.
10. A hug and acceptance from my community when I tell them I’m sick.

So, I actually made up this list obviously. But, I think it wouldn’t look that different if a Malawian living in the Ntchisi District was asked to compile such a list. They wouldn’t ask for toilets with running water or restaurants serving burgers and fries. They wouldn’t ask for gas guzzling cars to get around (they may ask for a bicycle) or new clothes. It makes me think that the more you have the more you want. The more I’ve been exposed to, the more I’m accustomed to expecting it. The basics of life are not a want for me. I don’t even think about clean drinking water or getting sick from taking a shower. It’s so expected and taken for granted that I fail to think of the many people who struggle for such things on a daily basis.

Back to my original thought: Asking them what they want. What can I do for you? Instead of, bursting in with “Here I come to save the day”. It was very frustrating standing by waiting to help build a chicken coop because so many guys from the church came out to help, but isn’t that the point? Together. We build it. Also, I love kids, but I wanted a break and they followed me everywhere even when I was supposed to be doing something else, argh, kids. Attention and fun should not to be overlooked. Hugging a child with stuff oozing out of their eyes and nose and ringworm over half their head exposing their bare scalp, is usually not my idea of fun. But to see their faces when you reach out, to feel their bodies relax into yours is indescribable. Kids in Africa have to grow up so fast. The stress of life is unbearable. I pray that for one moment they felt what it’s like to be a kid.

Wow, I said this was “Take 1”. I’m not sure how to stop writing. More will probably come as I continue to process the experience. I didn’t even get into the ways God moved and also the ways in which spiritual agenda made me sick. Africa is worse than I thought and more beautiful than I thought. It’s not a cause. It is a place with amazing people and amazing stories. Africa makes me feel incredibly small and that is a very good thing.

Regret

I’m sure when asked in an anonymous poll many people would agree to having regretted at least one significant event in their life. In any given day we make choices that affect the next moment, next day, and the next year of our lives without realizing it. What would it look like to live a life without regrets? No what ifs? No should-a, could-a, would-as. No looking back and wondering how the ending could have played out differently. What if life is like a “Choose Your Own Adventure Book”? The journey to get to the ultimate end varies depending on your choice. As a kid, I used to read ahead and choose the way I thought would be the best. If I didn’t like it, I would go back and choose the other option, “If Sally goes in the tunnel, turn to page 34. If she eats a hamburger, turn to page 67”. I kept going back and usually ended up reading through every possible option before realizing all the options lead to an end that isn’t really that horrible. Is God’s will like that? We choose paths in our life, but He has written the ending or endings? We may regret choices we make along the way, but if we trust His ending is coming, even if just the end of the chapter, can it lighten the load of regret? I want to choose to live a life without regret. Maybe learning to trust that God is the author of my adventure can help me to see my regrets as turns and twists on the path toward His plan instead of debilitating mistakes. Maybe taking an action can be as simple as meeting your favorite singer after a concert and telling him you appreciate his music. Letting sweaty armpits, a tied up tongue, and a racing heart stop you (along with the embarrassment of feeling like a seven year-old at a Hannah Montana concert) would end in regret if only for a couple of days. Maybe action is more difficult like moving across the country, ending a relationship, choosing to enter graduate school, or choosing to forgive someone who wronged you deeply. Whatever the choice, holding back doesn't have to be an option if you believe God will catch you. Ray Anderson, a professor at Fuller Seminary once said, "Choices are not black and white. There isn't one wrong and one right answer when you place God before you." That concept shattered my conventions of choice and God's will.

Maybe theologically I am making absolutely no sense, but to an individual paralyzed with fear and uncertainty, I believe looking at God in this way can help. He is good. His plan is good even if we can’t see it. I have to frequently remind myself to see the forest for the trees. I will inevitably make bad choices. Some of these choices I will be aware of and some will be thrust upon me against my will and possibly against my desperate attempts to avoid them. Knowing that God is bigger than bad choices or unfortunate circumstances helps me to don the glasses of trust in the author of my adventure. And, like C.S. Lewis writes, “He isn’t safe, but He’s good.” After all, what do you call a safe adventure? Boring.

God(less)

I have the blessing of being in a small group with three ladies that just happen to all be wonderful worship leaders. This past Monday we got into a discussion about guess what? worship.

The different questions we tossed around:

Does secular music have a place in worship services? And if so, where?
What is worship?
Where is God in worship?

At the risk of bringing up a topic already highly scrutinized, I want to share some "aha" moments that occurred for all of us that night.

First of all the concept of secular music to me is a bit ridiculous when I remember the vastness and enormity of our God. We like to separate art, music, businesses, and people like sheep and goats. For what purpose? A good friend of mine pointed out a not so savory hip-hop/rap song that touched her heart deeply while she was on her DTS for YWAM (Youth With A Mission). She was feeling alone, broken, and ravaged by years of pain being forced to the surface with incredible force and destruction through her YWAM journey. She went for a walk alone in rural Thailand and the words of the rap song came to her like an all consuming embrace from God. She felt the words searing through the sin and pain and speaking truth to her heart. I have to admit that when she later told me of this story, I laughed with an uncomfortable mixture of ignorance and indignation. How could those words speak to you? Her reply was simply, "How could He not?" How dare I limit God to speaking only through self-professed Christian artists wearing their brightly whitened Christian smiles and freshly starched Christian t-shirts. I'm not saying that now I load my iPod with Snoop and Diddy's latest, but I do listen to music with a different ear, expectant of God to speak through His art.

The second "aha" moment goes along with the first. In this age of Rob Bell-esque inspiration, we have all been encouraged and blessed by investigating the Hebrew text and meaning when studying Scripture. We often call a church service "worship" or maybe we label just the section we sing as "worship". Some even say "Praise Chorus" or "Praise songs". What's the deal with Praise and Worship? Forgive me if I simplify the Hebrew because it is not my intent to be irreverent. But, from my understanding the word for praise is the uplifting, raise your hands in the air type of...well, praise. Worship is the kind that sends you to your knees to acknowledge the God of gods and that we are definitely worthy to be...on our knees before Him. We see that co-existing in the Psalms. I used to think David was a bit off his rocker praising God one second and crying and whining on his knees the next. Now I see his authenticity in the pairing of Praise and Worship. It's almost like one without the other doesn't make sense. It's like one side of velcro won't stick to anything or serve any purpose, but when they come together...Magic for your Roos!

So, connecting the praise and worship to "secular" songs and attempting to explain the final aha, the way I see it, when we authentically worship, we open ourselves up to hear God speak. God is everywhere and in everything, rap music, the crabby lady at Target, and a sun-filled leap day. Worship happens whether we do it or not. The very rocks will cry out and proclaim who God is. Why wouldn't God use everything in His world to speak to us? Saying secular music has no place in worship is like saying bulletins have no place or drums are not holy and do not belong in church. It's not about the style, it's about the intended purpose. I don't think we'll be going Younglife anytime soon and breaking out in "Brown-eyed Girl" on a Sunday morning, but my vote is to start with hearing secular songs differently in our own lives. Allowing God to speak to us through something we always thought just had a catchy tune or funky dance beat. Maybe we'll find out that worship isn't confined to brick walls and steeples.