So. Burkina Faso.
15 days ago I left for my first mission trip. I left my babies for the first time. I got the first stamp on my passport. And I thought I knew what I was signing up for. I was prepared for my heart to be broken and prepared for my reality to be shaken; I welcomed it.
Yet, I had no idea what I was signing up for.
We arrived in Africa on Thursday and after a long journey we settled into our hotel late that evening. We didn't have any events that day other than to prepare ourselves for day 1 of our trip. We spent the first half of Friday at the regional office for compassion international, learning about the work being done in Burkina Faso and what more there is to do. It was a long lesson, but like the brown nosing student I always was, I enjoyed taking notes and learning the intricacies. I even had a taste of what the Lord had for me as I broke down when shown an image of a baby who was not much younger than Loretta yet looked like a newborn. He was starving, literally, and in desperate need of life saving care. Thankfully, compassion was able to provide that and we saw pictures of him a year later - looking happy, and healthy, much like my charles. It's hard to see that, have kids at the ages that I do, and not be broken up over it. The reality that I could have been that mom couldn't escape me. I could have been born under different circumstances. I could be desperately trying to simply keep my babies alive. I could have been born with less resources. But I wasn't, and I owe all the glory and gratitude to God for that.
After our visit at the center we spent the afternoon at one of the projects in the country. We walked into their church building and I was taken back by the level of care in the upkeep and maintenance of their building. A building like that would be abandoned and abused here, and yet it was a treasured and loved shelter there. It was simple and beautiful, and walking into their project I could immediately feel and see a JOY like I've never known. Joy - unexplainable joy. There was a group of mothers of infants who did a song and dance routine for us, most of them wearing their babies on their backs. Again - it's hard to see that and not make comparisons. Here at home we are so caught up in what swing (and bouncer, and stroller, and play yard, and play mat...) our infants have. There? They have their moms' backs - and they're happy to be there. I literally never heard a single baby cry in the time we were there.
We split into groups after their welcome ceremony to visit the homes of some of the young moms. My group went to the home of a woman who has a 3 month old son. Her husband travels around in search of clothes to mend, and she sells peanuts. At the end of our visit we asked if she needed prayer for anything. In my mind I expected a laundry list of prayer requests and needs. In my first-world brain I could see so many needs she must feel. Yet she had one prayer request. One. She prayed that she and her husband would be able to save up money to buy their house so they'd no longer be enslaved to rent. That's it. In our verbiage, she wanted financial freedom in the most simple and basic way. And her pride - she was SO proud to show us her home. She had taken immaculate care of her patio area, everything was cleaned up nicely and she was happy to share her home with us. I was prepared for meek living conditions; I was not prepared for joy in the lifestyle. It was humbling and eye opening.
Friday night after dinner we had small group discussions and we were in the middle of discussing the first question, 'why are you here?'. The timing of the question is so meaningful as we were literally answering the question as devastation was taking place a few miles down the road. We were outside near the pool and couldn't hear anything, but terrorists were attempting to leave their mark on Ouagadougou and stake claim of Burkina Faso. Instill fear. Cry out to their god. Fight against everything we were there to stand up for.
And just like that, the course of our trip changed. We thought we were there to go see the way in which these people live, love on them, and somehow serve them in their communities. But, in reality, God sent us there for much more dire reasons. God desired for His name to be praised louder than any other in that country at that time, because of the evil this world intended.
We didn't all have instant realization of this mission, and some of us spent Saturday with a range of emotions. Some people on our group were sad, some scared, some confused, some defeated. I, for one, spent most of the day focused in anger. But, thankfully, we had an incredible church service that night where the presence of the Lord was undeniable. At that service we all refocused together on the right things, on the real work that needed to be done there.
We spent most of Sunday in prayer and meditation over what God has planned and what He was doing. And then, after a day full of that and some fellowship, I had the most incredible experience of the trip. Compassion had arranged for a surprise visit to our hotel by some of the teenagers in the program who are part of a music and dance group. They came to perform for us and their talents on the drums and dance floor were INSANE! So, so good. After their performance we all mingled some and I assumed the night was winding down, but then some of our team started drumming and their leader and team started teaching some of our group how to play. They ended up giving each guy his own rhythm and once it was all pieced together it sounded so cool! I was on the dance floor/stage area and one of their dancers came over to dance with me. What I'm going to try to explain here will sound dumb - maybe a little crazy - but I can't not share it, I only wish I had better words. As she was trying to show me the dance moves the craziest thing happened: everything around us faded, she somehow got me to dance in sync with her, and as we looked in each other's eyes it was like I could see her soul. I hesitate to even type that because it sounds SO crazy. SO odd. But it was so beautiful. It was like I was dancing with a friend I'd known my whole life, and when I danced with her I somehow managed to successfully (or somewhat so) dance. Like - I almost looked cool doing it. We danced for what felt like a second but also felt like hours at the same time, so I really have no idea how long it lasted, and I was unaware of anyone else around us. I apparently missed some killer dance moves by others in our group, but I think it was worth the trade off. I can't put to words the experience I had other than to say that we were truly in the presence of the spirit and to make a connection like that without words felt like a glimpse of what Heaven will be like.
Monday morning we had some kids from misc projects around the area come to our hotel and we were able to do some of the activities we had planned to take out to their communities. We painted nails, played sport-type games, did crafts, had a VBS style puppet show and sang and danced. The kids were a little shocked by the hotel and 35 American swarming them, but they seemed to make connections and attachments to individuals in the group and once we earned their trust they were excited to play with us. It was so fun to dote on the and give them a day full of fun experiences they, hopefully, never forget.
The most incredible part of the interactions in each of the settings was that we were able to make real connections with very few words exchanged, if any. Some people from our church refer to this as a love exchange, but prior to experiencing it for myself I didn't know the depth of the phrase. I believe I do now, and yet I also think I'm maybe just starting to scratch the surface. Either way, there was a tremendous love exchange.
I know that back home, while we were gone, things seemed a little chaotic. I know there was a lot of worry and concern for our safety. It was almost embarrassing at times when I looked around at the incredible location God had for us - sure didn't feel like a missions trip, and never once did I feel unsafe or in danger. We had the cream of the crop, so to speak, while the media over here showed so many shots and videos of the devastation literally just down the road. I know it'd be easy to focus on all of that - but the real story is beyond that.
Burkina Faso, like so many others, is a nation stricken with poverty like we can't even comprehend. But the people of Burkina Faso are hopeful for more, and the people in the compassion centers have such joy. After seeing it, I can't want anything else more. The Joy of the Lord is their strength, and I learned so much more from them than I could ever offer them in return. My heart broke over the fact that we THINK we have so much to give them, but the joy they have for us far surpasses anything we could bring to the table. It's a beautiful and humbling reality.
I love their country, I love their people, and I will keep praying that I can
go back.
We ended up with a 24 hour layover in Brussels - which no one was quite dressed for - but we did do our best to take advantage and enjoy our last day together in style.
No comments:
Post a Comment