August 2013 Newsletter

I know what the apostle Paul means when he talks about running the race.  Having spent a decade running on track teams, I can identify with his metaphors.  But I always used to picture the spiritual life as being about a mile long.  Then for some reason, I decided to run a marathon.  In Africa.  By the end of the race, it was almost 100 degrees, and about halfway through, the race workers ran out of water to hand to the runners.  It was so difficult to say no to the buses passing by to pick up people who got tired before they arrived at the village 26 miles away, that I realized that up to this point, I’d really had no idea what Paul was talking about when he mentioned perseverance.

The fact that no one thought anything of running a race in conditions that would have cancelled a marathon in the U.S. (because such conditions can kill you) was not the only cultural difference.  Back when they had water at the beginning of the race, they handed it to us in little clear sacks.  We had to bite off a corner to open the sack and then drink out of that corner.  One worker was so eager to help that he bit off my corner for me.  I just smiled and hoped he didn’t have any communicable diseases.  But then a mile later, a kid standing in the crowd of people excitedly cheering for complete strangers, saw me, and seeing that I was a foreigner, immediately assumed I was rich and should therefore give him a gift.  Not seeing anything of value on my person, he asked for the rest of my sack of water.  Excuse me, I’m running a marathon.  I think I need this water more than you do.

But I also alternate between the two extremes.  One day, I want to do whatever I can to serve God, whether it means biting off water packet corners or staying up until two in the morning to prepare a lesson for a teacher training that day, because people here don’t often plan the details (like who is teaching what) ahead of time.  The next day, I’m begging God to change all the circumstances of my life, thinking that because I gave up so much to come to Africa, I should have my way for everything else.  I’m so focused on what I don’t have and on getting my bag of water, that I forget that it’s about Him.

 Fortunately God is familiar with my memory problems, so He keeps doing things like bringing people to our teachers’ courses who have a desire to reach children for God and have been struggling with no training and no materials, but have been faithful.  I get to tell them that the very reason I am in Africa is to serve them, to help them with these needs.  And every time one of these teachers decides to work alongside me, I realize that I may be trying to serve them, but it is really me getting the blessing.  So unless you enjoy misery, I don’t recommend running a marathon in Africa, but “running” God’s marathon is the best thing I’ve ever done.