Africa does not need me.

As I sit here in this old house on the banks of Lake Victoria, I am impressed with all we have found in Africa. I have seen a family of five running errands on a 125cc motorbike, I have held a small child fighting for his life against the HIV he inherited, I have danced my praises to God when I did not understand the language, and I have found a new dependency upon my Savior.

           Three weeks ago I arrived in Africa, not knowing the details of the task I had committed us to. My pride and education tempts me to dream of CPMs, EVexplosions, and all manner of “missionary” success scales. Truth is, Africa needs me not. Farm boys? They have millions. White people? Thousands. What do I bring? The Gospel? I see God working everywhere. God did not bring me here to DO, but to BE, to be with HIM wherever he maybe working. 

You might say, but why Africa? Can you not be with him at home? At one time, I could. But now I can’t. Not when I was told go. Yes, there was a time when my obedience looked a lot like Jerusalem, but that task has changed to the Ends of the Earth. So, shall I change? Some change their location, and not their heart. We call these tourists. Some change their heart and not their location. HE calls these disobedient.