No one could believe that the girl least likely to succeed would find life so full and running over living in Africa.
With my eyes closed my other senses do not percieve any differences from my other homes. Childrens laughter and cries sound the same as they play. The afternoon heat is as warm as my childhood backyard in late summer.
It is when my eyes open to the mud huts and beautiful black children playing that I see my new home, Africa.
Missionaries our church supported needed a furlough. We were asked to work with them for a time then stay to fill in the gap while they were back here in the states.
Kenya is considered a third world country in part because of disease, poverty and the lack of sanitation. This being true meant that the little villiage we lived in must have been a third world country in another.
These folks were amazing as they made their own cook ware out of clay over open fires. The women made their own clothes with animal skins, a kind of flap of a skirt in front and a full flap in back. The men were not clothed but had a cloth they used to cover themselves with while sleeping.
The women had made animal skin pouches for their babies to be carried in.
I was there about a week when i realised that these women were my betters in every way.
They were amazingly clean. They would swish water around in their mouths to warm it up and spit it on their babies to bathe them. To gather water they would walk a very long way with five gallon containers. In a dry season they would have to dig down quite deep
with sometimes two or three women in the ground passing water up to fill these containers.
They built the houses from mud, clay straw and water, took care of animals, and their children.
All the tasks they performed daily were amazing. They would sing and help one another like one body moving efficiently in a time and place that when and where it would be least expected.
It seemed that from one day to the next was a precious time of blessing as their love included me.
Never before or since have I had the peace and security of knowing the Lord had placed me exactly where He wanted me.
He planted me, His Holy Spirit fed me, and I grew profoundly through the experiences I was confronted with.
They ranged from stitching up a man who had been attacked by a Lion to having to bury a baby. But it was the second week that blest me the most.
Some type of disease hit my body like a mack truck. Vommiting and bloody disentary became my bunk mates.
I was actually out for about three days.
It was during these days that these women lived the heart of Jesus over my life. Two women were in constant attendance over me bathing the intense fever into control and cleaning my entire body.
Because of their living conditions this meant that the other women had to do the chores for the two who took care of me in 8 hour shifts. Once I was awake and realised what they had done, the overwhelming feeling of love that surpasses all understanding grasped my heart. I had always loved them as picture people and that love had grown to admiration while I watched them joyously work together to simply survive. But now, now I knew their hearts. My new home Africa was not the place but the people. They invited me into their hearts and they live here with me. It all brings new meaning to the saying, "home is where the heart is." My heart beats in my chest wherever I am. Forever they are with me. I was their mission field.
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