Covered

Yesterday I was thrown about the back of a Landorover for a total of nearly 9 hours. By the end of the day I was sweaty, dirty, had been peed on, and my head ached from smashing it on the roof of the car during the instances I left my grip on the handles for a second while the truck traveled over endless bumps and ruts on the dirt road.

Yesterday was one of the best days of my life.

(My view of the sun rise coming out of the ship)

Baby Anicette lives about 4 hours north of the port. A media team was scheduled to visit her in her village and I happen to have an 'in' with the media leasion. I stood outside at 6:45 yesterday morning, on standby waiting to see if there was room amongst the camera gear for me to squeeze in and make the trek up with them. I was giddy as I climbed into the back. I was so looking forward to going, I knew it would be a great way to end this outreach.

Thank you, God.

We did our usual stop and ask for directions way of traveling, eventually making it to meet a man who had come from Anicette's village. As we followed him, snaking through the bushes of Africa, I couldn't take my eyes off the road behind us. The dirt here is the color of burnt orange. We are in the dry season, so as we drove, terrific clouds of dust were kicked up behind us. As we passed people on their bikes and on foot, I waved, at first thinking it was a consolation for covering them in dirt. As always though, I was the one surprised. Nearly every time, they waved back. Through the dust, I could see a palm fly up to wave and a big smile. They didn't care about the dirt, they were just happy to see us and match a friendly wave.

That is Africa.

When we arrived, Anicette's mama quickly deposited her into my arms. She cooed and smiled, giggling as I kissed her belly and her cheeks over and over. That baby is seriously the most amazing gift of joy I have ever been given. She has been my comfort on so many days this year. She is one of the most beautiful children of Jesus I have ever seen and I love her with everything in me. My chicken little.

The cameras turned on and for a while we sat and observed as Anicette starred in the show. As always, there was no lack of cute chocolate colored children who went bananas over our digital cameras. I could barely take it all in. The colors, the smells, the feel of the kids warm skin on mine, the smiles, it was almost too much. My heart was overflowing.

This is my life. This is my life. Incredible

(A scene from the village)

(Watching the film crew)

(all smiles)

We were brought around the village, a crowd of scaresly clothed children always in tow. We were embraced, accepted, and welcomed in a way I have only ever seen in countries like here in Benin. Towards the end of our time, Anicette's mama asked my friend and I to pray for her and her baby. We hudled close and wrapped our arms around them. Tears flowed as I prayed.

Thank you, God. Thank you for every detail in this story. Thank you for the gift of life for this baby, thank you for this mama who loves her so much. Thank you for showing us your perfect plan, thank you for letting me love them and feel the love pour out of them in return. Thank you.

Her mama pointed to my face and asked "why?"
I'm happy
"Why happy?"

Before I left to come to Africa I watched a Nooma video by Rob Bell. Its title was Dust. It has stayed with me since that day (on the tears rating it was 4 stars. Be warned, my rating may be 1-2 stars above normal). He talked about how disciples were always the most elite scholars. They were the best of the best. However, when Jesus came, among his Disciples were fisherman. It was a major honor to be chosen, and we can only imagine how amazing it was for Jesus to ask a lowly fisherman to come and follow him.

"...At once, they dropped their nets, and followed him." Mark 1:16-18

Disciples follow their rabbi everywhere He goes. The walk behind Him, never doubting where He will lead them. At the end of the day they are covered in the dust of their leader. Jesus' disciples were covered in His dust. They dropped everything for the honor and privelege of following Him.
That imagery leaves me breathless.

This year I have had moments when I was sure I wouldn't make it another day. I have been devastated, my heart feeling as if it would literally break for what I have seen here.
Last year, before coming to Africa, I dropped everything in order to follow Jesus. I abandoned most of what I knew and promised Him I would follow, wherever that lead. The road has been one of suffering, rejoicing, and absolute surrender. It has been hot, sticky, and exhausting. The road is long, but I don't walk it alone. I choose to follow, and I am honored to be covered in the dust of my savior.