Many foreigners when they come here, can afford to stay in the nicest places in town. Tara and I can even afford a long term stay in the nicest areas in town. But God has called us to live a little differently. When we're here, we live with Elias in his concrete, tin roofed home, cook over his fire, go to the market and buy his vegetables, shower with his very same buckets (filled with the water we fetch), and even poop in the same hole in the ground (sorry, but it's true). Africans have certain views on how Americans should act and what Americans should do, and we're not really fulfilling that stereotype. They could maybe believe a couple would live or survive a week with them, but three months is beginning to make them think differently.
We had a meeting with the pastor of our church yesterday because he will help us train and disciple the widows that will serve as our house mothers, and it was an encouragement to hear his thoughts. Many Africans see white skin and rush to "serve" and work hard, but with the expectation of a handout. Once the Americans leave, so does the work ethic and service of the locals. However, each day we are here, the locals see us less like an ATM and more like a friend that they want to serve beside. Our hope and dream is to leave Elias with a team of widows and other leadership that believe in the dream and this vision. Sure, we will help fund it and bring the physical buildings to life, but our prayer is that when we leave, the children's home will not change at all.
The longer I do this work, the more humbled I get. When I know that if somoene would just do the job they were paid to do, our process would move so much faster, but the culture says to wait and not upset the government, I have to be patient. When someone steals our eggs, our headlamps, our bikes, or anything else we leave out, I have to know that's just the price we pay for choosing to live here (don't worry mom, our valuables are in a safe place). When the guys we need to help us work wake up, and just don't feel like working that day because it's too hot, I have to bite my tounge because I need them to work tomorrow. The American Way says to get it done today. But the way to best serve Africans is to make sure it's still being done tomorrow. This is humility at its finest.
So that's why we're here for three months when the process should barely take us three weeks. It may take time, require us to face many trials, and not work the way we planned, but the work keeps moving forward. We're blessed to be a part of this journey. Each day may be harder than it should be without running water, electricity, or a stove top, but it's a blessed life we live and I couldn't imagine it any other Way...
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