When God says "Stay"

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)

A Sea of Faces

I am a sea of ever changing faces. 

From day to day, every morning when I wake up, I decided which ‘face’ I am going to wear.  Some days when I am at home, it’s the face of a daughter. Other days, a youth leader.  The next, a friend.  Still others, it’s a sister, cousin, auntie and… a STUDENT?

My first week back as a Student came with a whole array of mixed emotions and feelings.  As my younger brother was getting excited for returning to school, I wore the face of a sister, ‘calm and collective’ and ‘been there, done that’.  Yet inside, returning to school as a student had me more terrified that traveling abroad with a group of strangers, for 11 months.  

As my Language and Culture prof so boldly stated, in response to my choice of adjectives used to describe myself, I am a “walking oxymoron”.  (I did use the words “traveler” and “introvert” to describe myself).  On one hand, deep down, I was (am) excited to be back in the class room as a student, being taught by one older and, presumably, smarter than myself.  A year of ‘practical’ life knowledge has been filled (thank you 24/7 community living World Race style), and I soon realized the desire within, to continue my book knowledge.  I have discovered the practicality, and simple need in the world, for those who crave the English Language.  I had experienced this, not ONCE on the race but time and time again.  

It doesn’t matter if one is Canadian, American, Eastern European, (East) Indian, Asian or African.

It is universal.

This knowledge, brought me back to the classroom.  Back to classes, syllabi’s, assignments, exams, professors and *gah* meeting new people…back to wearing the face of a student.  As I wandered around campus this past week, I must have had on the look of ‘a lost puppy’ time and time again as I tried to figure out where the LT was and which classroom I was supposed to be in when.  As I stumbled around my new apartment building style of living, I did not realize that the person who was in the kitchen with me, is also in ALL my TESOL classes…yep the face of a freshman.   

  

I thought to myself…isn’t this sort of how we walk through life? Always putting on a ‘face’ (or, better yet, a ‘mask’) of who we truly are?  Never really letting people get truly close to us, in fear of them leaving (or judging) us?

I know I am guilty of this. 

So this September, yes I WILL be putting on the face of a student…for the simple reason that, by definition, I AM A STUDENT in a post-secondary setting.  I have professors who DO know more than me and I am going to take this opportunity to allow their book knowledge (and personal experiences) to soak within my brain, heart and soul.  In turn, I will try to use that, to teach those around me…whether through day to day interactions, or future ministry.

More so, I am going to try and prevent the ‘fear’ within me, of putting on a ‘mask’ around fellow classmates and students.  I want them to see me, to ‘know me’ as me.  True, somedays will be easier than others, yet already, God has proven Himself faithful and GOOD through the people I in which I have already met and am starting to get to know.  In turn, I am going to do my best to see them for who THEY are.

Within the last few years of my life, God has put some (a lot of) incredible people in my life.  From friends that I grew up with, to college (round one) and, most recently, the World Race.  Each of those separate steps, was a part of the journey in who I am today when I walk down the halls at Providence.  It’s their faces, voices, prayers and memories that I am carrying with me to help me through.

So here is too a year of only a few ‘faces’.  A year of change, growth and being a student!!