T-to-the-Africa... Yes, AGAIN :)

Go ahead and say, "I told you so."  Yup, I'm headed back to Africa.  On September 1st, I will be leaving Indianapolis to spend three months in Swaziland.  As excited as I am to have this extended time in Africa, this decision has required a greater leap of faith than many others in my life thus far.  For one, going to Swaziland in the fall means I will be missing most of football season.  This a tragedy I'm not quite ready to talk about yet.  Beyond missing Colts games, leaping toward Africa means letting go of other "beautiful things" I love dearly here in Indy.  I'm not entirely sure what my life will look like when I return in late November, but there are glimpses; there are "leadings" in new directions, and as frightening as it can be to leap without a net in place, I'm provoked to believe that God Himself is the net, and so I leap.

This post will surely be followed up over the next few months with answers to questions like, "But what are you going to do when you get back?" and "What about TC?" and "What about pursuing your masters degree?"  These have answers - some of them I know; some of them I don't know (yet).  For now, I'd like to keep the talk on Africa.  So let's stop at just one question: "Why Africa...again?"

When I was a very little girl, Ethiopia was in the midst of a famine.  I didn't understand much about this at the time, but thanks to Sally Struthers commercials, I was inundated with images of starving children on a regular basis in those early years.  At 5 years old, I didn't know much, but I knew one thing: life is not supposed to be like this.  I was moved for them, and although I had no personal ability to change their situation, every time prayer requests were taken at church, school, home or elsewhere, I would pray "for the starving children in Ethiopia and Africa" (yes, that exact phrase).

So why am I going back to Africa again?  Because I want to be that little girl who is moved by suffering that really doesn't have to be her problem.  I never want to stop being her.  I could ignore it, but I don't want to.  I could hide in the borders of my own country and my own comfort, but I don't want to.  I want to be disturbed by the things that disturb the heart of God.  I want to be moved by the things that move the heart of God.  And sometimes that means stepping outside of yourself to see the world He so loves, that He gives... Himself.  If I want to be like Jesus, then my love must mean giving myself away, too.  

When I go to Africa I feel pretty useless.  I'm not a doctor, a nurse, an educator, or a brilliant business mind.  I don't know how to help make these problems resolve, and I certainly don't know how to take proper care of a person suffering from malnutrition or disease.  All I know how to do is to talk, to play, to laugh and to love.  That's all I got.  But I think it does me good to be in a place where I'm not so important.  It does me good to understand that I'm not the Messiah.  I'm not the answer.  I'm not the solution.  In Africa or in America, I'm just a girl, hopefully turning eyes upon Jesus, reminding those in despair that there is more than this.

So why Swaziland?  Well for one, Swaziland has the highest HIV/AIDs rate in the world, leaving the country with an average life expectancy of 46 years old.  Do I have HIV?  No.  Is it my problem that a bunch of people I don't know who live on the other side of the world have HIV?  No.  Could I ignore it and go on with my life just fine?  Unfortunately, yeah, I think I could - but I don't want to.  For the rest of my life, I want God to continue messing with my idea of normal, crashing the walls of every kingdom I try to build for myself, and wrecking my heart with the magnificence of His love.  So for three months, this will be my prayer - ruin me like You, Jesus.  Ruin me like You.

You can expect a ridiculous amount of blog posts, photographs and the like from September 1st through November 22nd...and probably a bit after.  Thanks to all my friends and family who have been so supportive through this season, always challenging me to follow Jesus wherever and however He may lead.  Looking forward to sharing more of this journey with you...

- TG 

The Details:

In Swaziland, I'll be loving on and ministering to children and youth through partnerships with Mission of Mercy and Children's Cup.  In addition, one of my dearest friends is a doctor with HIV/AIDs patients in Mbabane.  Through her connections with the hospital in Mbabane, I will be focusing much of my time working with the hospital social workers, shadowing HIV counselors and volunteering with Swazi children who also happen to be HIV patients.  If the majority of my time is spent reading to kids with HIV, I will be a very happy girl.  

Flipping Tables

Tonight in Addictions class we talked about identity, belief and the idea of what is normal.  We questioned the idea that what is "normal" is always good.  Just because something is normal, does that make it good?  And how does that normal thing shape who I am, what I believe and how I behave?  

When Jesus showed up on the scene, He flipped the tables on all that was considered "normal."  He said things like, "You heard this, but I'm telling you that..." or "You thought that, but I'm telling you this..."  He didn't eliminate all of the old ideas - He illuminated them.  He brought them to light.  He made sense of them.  He said things and did things that revealed a much bigger picture with much brighter colors, colors the world had not yet seen.  

God seems to enjoy tampering with my normal.  Sometimes I find myself banging on His chest, pleading with Him to just leave me alone.  To be perfectly honest, I had a moment just this past week when I snapped at Him in prayer: "Seriously, does everything in my life have to be about You?  Can't anything just be mine... just be normal?"  Whoa... ugly, Tara.  Real ugly...and probably a little stupid.  

I'm so thankful that when I'm banging on His chest, pleading with Him to leave me alone, He doesn't.  This is God's mercy - that He doesn't listen to everything I say; that I am not the boss of Him.  That He doesn't get offended or wounded and wander away, whimpering, "Why doesn't she love me anymore?"  He knows I love Him - and He knows I love me more sometimes, too....  We're working on it.  

But I love Him more every time He doesn't let go.  I love Him more every time He tampers with my normal.  Every time He "makes everything have to be about Him all the time."  Yes, somehow, I love Him a little bit more.  There's grace in this.  There is grace in this God who relentlessly, meticulously sneaks Himself into every picture and every painting hanging on the walls of my life.  He makes Himself the point of everything because He actually is the point of everything, so when I find Him everywhere, in all things and at all times, well... it's because that is the normal that is good - always.

This is how He does it.  This is how He makes all things beautiful: He places Himself in them.  And this is what He is doing with my life.  All of a sudden, I could not be more happy to be "normal."

Here we go, flipping tables...