The Dust of Africa

Awhile back, I saw on someone's blog "Once you get the dust of Africa on your feet, it will never leave you." As soon as I read it I thought, that is so me! Problem is, I haven't actually been there.

How is it then, that since childhood I have felt an inexplicable sort of kinship with its people; many of whom face extreme poverty, while I bask in the over abundance that is America? Why am I so drawn to this vast continent, which is as dark and desolate in some corners as it is breathtakingly beautiful in others?

I don't quite understand my need to drench myself in Africa's culture, study the history of its countries, pray for its leaders and citizens, serve its people who, despite their daily adversity, have the ability to exude such joy. Why do I care so deeply for orphaned children I've never met? Why is God calling so loudly to me to come and serve Him, while I serve them. Wouldn't it be easier, cheaper, safer, more comfortable to help locally, here in Atlanta?

If I listen closely enough to God's answers, I learn that for whatever reason, for whatever purpose, He needs me there. So, He is sending me!

This April I, and a team of 14 others, will travel to Zimbabwe to serve precious children orphaned by the AIDS epidemic that has grasped their nation. I am grateful for, and excited about, this opportunity but I have concerns and fears as well.

Will my husband, son and dogs be okay while I am gone? What if something happens to me? What if something happens to them? What kind of food will I eat? Because God, you know that I prefer to eat vegetarian and I am terrified that a meal (or two) could be sacrificed in front of me. Will my laptop work there? How many emails will I come home to? And yikes - can I take my hairdryer? (Shallow I know, but I like to keep my blog (and my life!) real. In keeping with that tradition, my husband will be the first to tell you that in 15 years of marriage, I have gone on no trip without my hairdryer!)

Will I be able to raise the $2600 I need for this trip? Speaking of that $2600, sending letters to my family and friends asking for help was so outside of my comfort zone it’s not even funny! I really didn’t enjoy God’s sense of humor with that one BUT stepping outside of our comfort zones makes us trust that much more in God’s provisions. Does it not?

In 2003 I began praying for God to let me be His hands and feet in Africa. Mission trips have come and gone, and for various reasons I have stayed behind. It has been frustrating at points but what I have realized is that God’s timing is way different than my own. So now, nearly 7 years of waiting later, I am going to serve. I asked God to Send Me, and He is. I am humbled to do this work for Him, and I pray the dust of Africa gets on my feet and never leaves me.

--Karyn