I’ve been missing Africa. I’ve been missing it a LOT lately.
I miss ‘my Africa’ nestled in the south
central part of the continent. I miss
the ‘care free’ life. The slow and steady pace of a culture that taught me what
it truly means to invest into the lives of those around you. To be still and to be present where you are. I miss not always having to ‘go’ somewhere all
the time and to simply sit for the sake of sitting. I miss my frappe like drinks and freshly
prepared sandwiches from The Mint
every Saturday. Gelato, I cannot forget
the African Gelato place. Nothing compares
to fresh gelato on a hot African day. I even miss rides into town; rides that
should take only 10 minutes but take upwards 45 due to potholes, traffic jams
or simply another accident. I miss
goofing off with local taxi drivers, bartering for the best price to get us
home, as locals chuckle as they pass by.
More importantly;
I miss the feet of those
who walk on a small acreage of land, tucked just outside the busy, growing city
of Ndola. I miss the arms wrapped around
my neck in the biggest, bestest hugs that there are. There isn’t a price I wouldn’t pay to simply
get just ONE of those hugs. I miss their beautiful, bright smiles up against
their gorgeous dark skin tones. I miss
the laughter that reaches to the Heavens; from the songs of praise on a Sunday morning,
to the school hallways Monday-Friday and everything in between. I miss waking up each morning and hearing
their voices right outside my door.
Sunday photo-shoots followed by evening movies and board games. I miss sitting in the Insaka’s; getting my
hair braided by 10 little hands, or listening to another gut-wrenching story of
hopelessness, abuse, abandonment, neglect, pain and betrayal, turn into a
miracle story of hope, healing, rescue, redemption, friendship and love. I miss learning about scripture through the
eyes of a child/teen each and every Sunday morning in a child led church
service. I miss the countless hours of Frisbee throwing and giggles that accompanied
it.
I miss spending time with
my 3 sponsor children. One a toddler
that I just happened to be in the van, the day his teen brother brought him to
us through social welfare. Crying, scrawny
and incredibly thirsty he was. A year
later, he’s healthy, eats more than I ever could, and is developing a
personality uniquely his own. My first child I ‘took’ as a sponsor, an
elementary aged girl who came broken, burned and lost, to Grace Academy a month
before my first trip in 2011. I saw God truly
working in her life during my time with her in 2012 and 2015. What an honour that God chose me to be a part
of her story in a very practical way of child sponsorship! Finally my newest sponsor ‘child’, no longer
a child but a beautiful young lady and a former grade 10 English student of
mine. Quiet and shy at first, I found
her one of the hardest to leave last year as she slowly began to open up her
life to me. Together, under the Africa sun,
she shared with me about where she came from, the hardships she had endured and
who she trying to be. Ironically enough,
she reminded me of a few of my girls here at home and, unknowingly, taught me a
lot about life and gave me a new perspective into the lives of my teens.
Yesterday, my church
hosted a dessert fundraiser for Seeds of Hope, for the kids who call it home.
I debated going. Not because I’ve heard what was going to be
shared time and time again, but because I was scared of how my heart would
respond to it. I was scared of the
feelings and emotions tied to what would
be shared, of ‘losing my control’ and of the personal embarrassment of the
tears, I feared, that would show themselves among friends and peers. Ultimately, I was scared of that one specific
question/statement that I knew would be geared towards me by those around me.
“So Nikki, when are you hoping on a plane and heading
back? Where is your next stop?”
What I did NOT expect,
was the incredible peace that filled my heart and the strength within my voice
as I responded back, “Not for another 2.5 years at least”. The shock look on their faces was evident as I
continued with saying, “God has given me an incredible ministry right here at
home that I am honoured to be a part of each and every day. He continues to allow me to be a part of
miracle stories happening right here, right now. I know without a doubt, that this is where He
is calling me to be and I cannot express the amount of joy that it brings to my
heart”.
Furthermore, what I did
NOT expect where the tears that didn’t
appear in my eyes. Rather, they became
tears that flowed out of a, now alumni, youth girl who I’ve grown to know, cherish and
love throughout her 4 years in high school.
I could feel the praise in my heart go up towards God, as I simply wrapped her
in a huge hug, as her tears flowed. Each tear a symbol of a beautiful, compassionate heart that God has given her, a heart that I KNOW He will continue to work miracles in, and through. The simple words "Thank you" that she whispered into my ear, provided further confirmation of God being alive and moving here in a small Mennonite town. I knew that, she knew I knew full well what her tears were
for. She knew that I understood 110% in
a way that very few locally do. What a blessing, what an honour to continue to walk alongside her (and many others) as they
continue their walks with Jesus.
I’ve heard the saying
once, “Save the world one life at a time”.
I have yet to fully understand it, but day by day I am finding myself gaining an even greater understanding behind that simple statement.
Truth is. I miss Africa and I always will. I miss my kids in Zambia something fierce, with
every breath that I take. That will never leave the core of who I am...
Yet my heart remains at
peace knowing that perhaps one day God will lead me back there again, maybe even for my toddler's graduation!?!?! (How cool would that be!!?!). However for now, with a trusting head and a knowing heart, I know God is taking care of my 'kids' in Zambia, the way He took care of my youth
girls while I was at Grace Academy. I've learned time and time again, that no matter where I am, whether in Africa or Altona, my 'kids' are ultimately in God’s hands whether I am
there with them or not. Thank the LORD for that!! I know the best
thing I can do for them, is pray and guess what…physical location doesn’t matter
when it comes to prayer!!
God is beyond borders and
customs, oceans and skies, politics and personal hardships and everything in
between.
Our God is a God who
knows no bounds. Who has required 3 things of us and whose love is never ending, whose faithfulness reaches to the skies.
"Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds". Psalm 36:5
“He has shown you, O mortal, what is GOOD. And what does the LORD require of you? To ACT
justly. To LOVE Mercy. To WALK humbly
with the LORD your God” (Micah 6:8)
