Widen Your Heart

"This isn't the Africa I pictured."

I confess I have made this statement countless times in the two weeks I have been here. 

Where are the red dirt roads and babies tied on backs and ugali at every meal and the barefoot children with sparkling eyes? Instead I'm surrounded by roundabouts and American fashions and iPads in church. Why does that disappoint me? I didn't come here to alleviate poverty; I came here to share the hope of Christ. But I admit that in my mind, that looked more like cradling orphans and less like trying to build relationships with skeptical university students. More like sitting on the dirt floor of a hut sharing the gospel as it fell on ears who were hearing it for the first time, and less like dripping with sweat while prayer-walking the campus. But God is not surprised by my surroundings or my naiveté. And despite the differences between my expectations and reality, I have an undeniable peace that I am supposed to be here!

A week or so before I left home, I had a thought-provoking conversation with a very dear friend. She remarked that everyone equates orphans with the "least of these" that Jesus refers to in Matthew 25. "Why do they get to be the 'least of these?' " she asked. She was right. They are all His. The hungry orphan and the emaciated woman with AIDS and the polished university student and the rough combi driver. They all have the same need for a Savior. 

And as Paul instructed the Corinthian church, I heard the Father saying to me, "widen your heart."

An interesting thing happened this week. I visited some of the more poverty-stricken areas outside my city. It "looked like" Africa. Seeing those living conditions made me sad, but it didn't break my heart quite like I thought it would. Perhaps because I have learned that poverty is not simply a physical problem; it is a loss of hope. And hope comes through Christ alone. 

So I was not jealous of the orphan ministry in Lobatse or the traditional African feel of Old Naledi (although I am encouraged to hear how the Lord is working in those places!). I am jealous for the hearts of the UB students, that their desire and delight would be in the Lord.

It is not easy. University students are not like the children who clamor to hold my hands, each one grabbing a finger. But their need is the same. 

Oh Father. Widen my heart. 

University of Botswana Campus

Sweet kiddos!

The Vineyard Workers

2.2.13 

Have you heard about the vineyard workers? It's a story I have skipped over many times, but this week it finally clicked for me. So here is a paraphrase: 

Early in the morning, a man goes to town to hire some people to work his vineyard. After negotiating their pay, several agree to come and work for the day. A few hours later he makes another trip into town and hires some more. He does this several more times throughout the day, up until sunset when he recruits a few more men who are just hanging around town.

When the work day is over, he calls in all the men and begins handing out paychecks. But here's the thing: they were all paid the same-- the guys who started at sunrise and the guys who started at sunset. Understandably, the ones who worked all day were upset, even though they were paid what they had agreed upon with the vineyard owner that morning. 

"But it's not fair," they grumbled. 

The owner responded, "I want to give the man who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don't I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?"

So why did Jesus tell this story? It is actually a response to the disciples' entitlement-loaded question, "We left everything to follow you! What will there be for us?" And there I see myself.

God calls us to be his, not because he needs us, but because he wants to show his grace to us. Do you think by the 11th hour the vineyard owner really needed more workers? (That's 5 pm.) Probably not. But he called them because he wanted to be generous, give them meaningful work, and bless them beyond what they deserved. That is so incredibly humbling.

We often identify with the wrong party here, resonating with how the early workers were "cheated." But I am not the one who worked all day and got paid what I agreed upon; I am the one who showed up at sunset and got paid a whole day's wages. Not because he needed my help, but because he saw me standing there alone, directionless.

Grace.

It has nothing to do with what I've done for him, and everything to do with what he's done for me. Sometimes I get mixed up and think that I am going to Africa to serve God and accomplish something great in his name. Then I remember, he is already there, he has many people serving him, and he definitely doesn't need my help. But he invites me to come, to be a part of what he is doing, and receive a gift I don't deserve, because that is his character. Amazing.

***

The day I journaled about this truth from Matthew 20 was also the day I found out I would be going to Botswana. I had no idea what that meant at the time, but I have constantly been reminded that I am here only because of his grace! The last one of my orientation group to hit the field, joining an awesome team in a country I knew nothing about until a week before I landed. Sometimes I wonder why the Lord has me here, when the national believers know how to reach fellow students in this culture much better than I do and will be here longer than I will. Then I am reminded: His grace. My faithfulness to obey. That's all he asks. 

Here I am, Lord!

Gladly Would I Leave Behind Me

With a tear-stained face and a hopeful heart I stepped onto a plane that will take me to Africa for the next two years. A dream I have had for at least twice as long. One that only God could fulfill in his perfect way, in his perfect timing, all for his glory.

While I was counting the days until I see my family before my plane had even crossed ocean, the Lord grabbed my attention with a song I had never heard before…

Gladly would I leave behind me

All the pleasures I have known

To pursue surpassing treasures

At the throne of God the Son.

Then the Lord spoke to me from Jeremiah 29. Everyone loves the promise of prosperity and His hand on our future in verse 11, but backing up a bit gives some context. This letter was written to the Israelites while they were in exile. I can only imagine the temptation for them to shut down, to hide away, to try to block out the present and wait for the Lord to rescue them. But that's not what he tells them to do.

"Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters…" (v 5-6a)

Basically, live your life here. This is your home now. And I am reminded that this journey is so much more than a two year assignment. God is working in my heart, so that I may be ready to love the people of Botswana so much that I delight not only to share the gospel with them, but my life as well (1 Thess. 2:8).

To love without reserve.