Washing Africa Off My Shoes

As I am cleaning out my suitcase from the recent trip to Lesotho, I was met with a deep stench rising from the Ziploc bags of dirty clothes. A quick search revealed the perpetrator of the problem: my tennis shoes. They bore the dust of the dirty streets of Maseru as well as that of the surrounding hillsides. The heat of the African days had left the residue of sweaty feet inside. I guess if you think about it – there is a Biblical perspective in the feet of those who bring good news…

Was the trip life-changing? Not for me. But it was for somebody, in fact many somebody’s…Am I glad I went? You bet! Would I go again? Sure!

A week gives only the slightest glimpse into the heart and soul of a culture. One that took thousands of years to develop cannot be accurately dissected within days. For me, this journey provided renewed assurance that God can/is working in all parts of the world no matter if it fits into our pattern of ministry or not. It also gives me confidence of the calling that God has placed in the hearts of man to serve Him in every culture, community or country.

No project was completed, there were no children that I wanted to bring home and I really didn’t struggle with a strong desire to remain in Maseru. The time has been good, the trip worthwhile and the money well spent. God’s servants from both sides of the ocean have been encouraged and His people have found their strength renewed. His light still shines in every corner of the world.

I have always wanted to go on a trip and distribute shoeboxes with Operation Christmas Child…I think I just did. The children were much older and their boxes contained nothing but radios. But the gift of love remains just that and the joy in which it is received is unparalleled in human emotion. The intent was to bring to Africa something they could use for God’s glory. Instead, we take back a greater perspective of the same. America has a lot to offer the world. God has more. The world doesn’t necessarily need America…it does need God!

So, as the sand and dirt of Lesotho has escaped into the drains of Davidson County, I pray that the experience will always have an impact, the names will never be forgotten and the faces continually etched in my memory. Yeah, my shoes look brand new again…maybe it’s a reflection of the hearts reached on this journey.