I’m going to be frank.
My first week in Zambia was not at all what I had
anticipated.
I think I came with some sort of expectation that I would be
like a hero or something. Like I would swoop in and provide all this help. That
somehow Zambia needed me.
How the Lord humbled me. Zambia did not need me. I needed
Zambia.
To start with, I had horrible jet lag. And almost every day,
I was nauseous and had to take Zofran. One morning, I actually had to rush out
of morning chapel to go dry heave and nearly passed out. Of course, the good
doctors sent me home and told me to rest.
I cried myself to sleep every night for the first week,
missing my husband. Wondering why on earth God brought me to this seemingly
God-forsaken place? I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. Worst of all, I could not
talk to my husband or family because there was no internet at my house. There
were bugs and spiders everywhere.
I felt so alone. So weak. I wanted to come home. I was
doubting my call to medical missions. If I couldn’t handle a few days with bad
internet, bugs, and without my husband, how on earth was I going to make it as
a long-term missionary?
But God.
I know we throw around the verse that says He will not give
us more than we are able to bear. Honestly, I think this time, He gave me way
more than I could bear. On my own. I finally, in desperation, wept aloud to Him
and told Him I couldn’t bear it. I could not do this on my own. I was
completely and utterly dependent on Him.
A verse I clung to during this time was 1 Peter 5:10 “And
after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called
you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen,
and establish you.”
Peter probably wasn’t talking about the little sufferings of
no internet, no husband, and bugs in this verse. But for some reason, it spoke
to me. I think I needed this time of suffering to remind me that I am weak.
Without God, I am utterly helpless.
And thank God for the wonderful doctors and nurses and team
members here at Mukinge. They welcomed me with open arms, comforted me as I
cried, fed me, loved me. We celebrated the little victories, wept over the
losses, and praised God for sustaining us.
God didn’t bring me to Zambia because Zambia needed me. I’ve
probably been more of a burden to the people here than a help. But I believe He
brought me here to humble me, to bring me to my knees. To remind me of how it
is only through His strength that I can do any of this.
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