I know the purpose of this here blog was to keep people updated on stories and such of my journeys in Africa this summer, and though it's been a while since I've been home I definitely haven't forgotten all the things I'd hoped to share. So, here goes one...
Just earlier today I was watching "The Blind Side" that I just got yesterday, on sale, during the madness of Black Friday. :) And as I cried and laughed and cried some more, I was reminded of very special day and one I will never forget this summer in the muddy streets of Niger. There are a lot of daily things I do here that remind me of "home" and make me really miss being there, but today was more than just a memory that made me laugh and move on, no, it was different. Now if you've never seen "The Blind Side"-- you need to. It's an incredible story about a young man who grew up in the midst of poverty in Tennessee and a caring family who took him under their wing, and into their home where he soon became their son. I was inspired by how much love this family showed without reserve, treating this young man just like he was theirs the very moment they met him. It kind of reminded me of my babies at home... in Niger. So many I just want to bring back here with me. It hurts me so much to see them when they hurt, when they don't have food or clean water, or when they don't have someone to just pick them up and tell them it will all be okay. I was always a little broken inside when these sweet children, God's children, would run up to me, jump for me to pick them up, or hold my hand while I walked down the street because they wanted affection they may have not often received. And I was even more broken inside when a day would come that I wasn't all too excited to have these little kids constantly grasping for me and pulling on my hand because I would selfishly get irritated that I could not go anywhere without a little boy or girl next to me. I would momentarily forget why I'd come all the way to Niger-- it wasn't for my selfish gain, but because I so much as loved the Lord and wanted to see these sweet children come to know Him and the love that He had for them. On one of those days that I had forgotten why I was there, but the Lord so graciously reminded me.
One morning, similar to most other mornings, I dragged out of bed and got ready to go to CURE hospital. The only difference in this morning compared to the others was that it had rained the night before and I had to walk down the street a ways to get a taxi. Usually, mom (Shelley) would drop me off at a place that was easier to get a taxi, but kids were out of school so I was on my own with finding a taxi this time. :) Which meant that I had to walk through and try to dodge a few (and by a few, I actually mean a lot... everywhere) mud puddles. I did a pretty good job for a while until I finally slipped and my flip flop was hidden in the mud, and my foot and ankle were officially black. Cleaning it off was a lost cause since everything around me was sand, so I just trotted down the street some more while people pointed and giggled at the little white girl with the muddy foot. I wasn't the happiest camper, but I just tried to laugh with everyone else that found it kinda funny. Then I passed someones gate who took notice of my muddy foot and didn't just laugh. No, this gentleman instead motioned me to come here. Now, Kris and Shell had gone over "etiquette" and general cultural customs with me about what's okay to do and not do in regard to living/visiting Niger. Let's just say that going into a gate when a man asks you to "come here" wasn't on the okay to do list. I did it anyways. oops.
Anyway, This sweet gentleman got a little plastic tea kettle of water, handed it to me and walked away. So, i tried cleaning my foot off. Until he brought a woman back with him who I was able to greet, but then our conversation ended 2 seconds later with "je ne parle pa beaucoup francais.. je suis desole" or "I don't speak much french... I'm sorry." What happened next just hit me hard... this lady I had just met yet couldn't speak to, looked at me, smiled, and bent down as she took the kettle of water from me and began to wash my foot. Selflessly. I just stood there as tears welled up in my eyes and I thought "I came here to love on these people, yet I'm standing here having my feet washed." And the Lord reminded me of John 13:14-17:
"Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them."
That very silent moment with that woman was one I will never, ever forget. That one part of those verses above that says "nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him" lingered around in my head once I walked out that gate with a clean foot. I was appalled with myself and the moments I selfishly wanted to not be bothered my little kids or people noticing my skin color and stalking me like a pack of wolves. I was appalled by this because I know my Savior, Jesus Christ, would have loved these children no matter the time of day they came to him, whether he felt like it or not, or whether it was convenient for him at the moment. He would have loved them wherever he met them, whenever he met them, and I knew in my heart that I wanted to love like the Lord does. Though I knew why I came to Niger, I realized it and held it a bit dearer to my heart after that morning.
Needless to say, the Lord is good. And I am forever grateful for a Savior who can so much as stop me in my tracks to remind me that no day or hour even is anything without him and that I am always, always on mission for Him. <3
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