A New Perspective
It's hard to believe it has already been a week since arrival - my eyes have taken in so much. My team and I have been staying at YWAM bases in Arusha and Singida, and one thing that has deeply impacted me is the extraordinary hospitality of the people we have encountered at each base. How is it that we came here with the intention to serve, but we end up being served in return? The majority of the workers here at the Singida base, for example, receive no financial support for themselves or their families - their position is entirely unpaid. Yet, they still serve with such joy. They simply rely on their faith to provide their needs, and somehow, every single time those needs are met. Whether it is preparing meals for us and waiting to eat until we've finished, driving long distances into town for water runs, or just pouring out their hearts into translating for us, they always give their all. The way the Tanzanian people serve is so significantly different than anything I've ever seen, as to them it is not a chore or a burden, but a blessing.
I want to share a story about one of my dear friends who lives and works on the YWAM base in Arusha and Singida. For her privacy and security, I will call her "Ruth." While we were at the previous base in Arusha, Ruth approached me after our final dinner in this location and asked if I could pray for her. She explained that her brother had been reaching out, urgently asking for financial support. The walls of his home were in a fragile state, on the verge of collapse, and he was desperate for help. This wasn't an easy thing for Ruth to share with us - it was clear how deeply she cared for his safety. When I asked her about the cost of repairing the walls in his home, she said it would be 20,000 Tanzanian shillings. I gathered a couple of the girls on my team, and together we sat with Ruth and prayed for her. After our time of prayer, Ruth looked into my eyes and said, "I love you, my sister." In that moment, she taught me so much. She never once asked me for the money - she simply invited me to seek the Lord with her, fully relying on Him to provide and carry her through. After returning to my room, out of curiosity I converted 20,000 shillings to USD dollars, quickly discovering that the total cost to fix her brothers entire home was only eight dollars. Eight. I sat at the table in my room in disbelief, my mind racing. How many nights had Ruth's brother gone to sleep, wondering if the walls around him might crash down? How many days had he come home, uncertain if he'd still have a roof over his head? You truly can't ever prepare yourself for something like this. The anxiety Ruth must have felt, wondering if her brother was safe, while still finding the strength to serve us by cooking meals - must have been completely overwhelming. And yet, there I was, realizing I'd had the solution in my pocket the entire time. I wrestled with this for a while, wondering how many others were going through a similar situation. How much more happens beyond what I am able to see?
I titled this blog post, "A New Perspective" because that perfectly captures what I have received from my time here so far. This past Sunday, my team and I had the privilege of sharing a message at a local church, along with a few brief testimonies. Near the end of the service, an offering basket was placed at the front of the room. One by one, people slowly began making their way to the basket, dropping in bills and coins - whatever they had to give. I was quickly taken by surprise when I noticed people bringing chickens to the front, but I soon understood that their generous offering was simply all they were able to give. At first, I felt sorry for the people who had so little to give, and I found myself wondering why I was so fortunate to be born into a family as blessed as mine. This was a moment of deep reflection. I find myself taken back to a verse in 2nd Corinthians which says: "Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver." This verse is exactly what I witnessed during the church service. Giving wasn't a burden for these people; they were overflowing with generosity. It was nothing but a sweet joy for them as their coins clinked at the bottom of the offering plate, as their hearts were filled with truth and trust in God's unfailing promises. As I watched in fascination, my heart posture began to shift. Suddenly this became a beautiful thing, their complete dependence on Jesus and unwavering trust that their security was in Him alone. What a profound gift it was to witness - a fragrant offering, as they gave everything they had with open hands, just to bless His name.
Today, my heart feels like its overflowing, stretched in every direction by both joy and sorrow. This afternoon, we spent a few hours with nearly three hundred local children, and I can honestly say I've never known joy like I did in these moments. Being able to pour love and truth into the hearts of these children was one of the most precious gifts. I feel so overwhelmed with emotions right now, I struggle because words will never be able to accurately describe what this feels like. As the children arrived, they would rush toward me, racing to be the first to hold my hands. They were fascinated with my hair, giggling as they draped it over their own heads, pretending it was theirs. The moments when the kids were having the most fun weren't during the songs we sang or the organized games, but in the simple seconds when we were all just existing together. Although I can confidently say today was one of the happiest moments of my life, I can also say that there were moments that felt very heavy. Seeing girls as young as seven carrying babies on their backs, or watching boys sprint for a moment of cold, clean water from the hose - those moments of hardship really bring you into a new kind of reality. I just want nothing more but to see these kids thrive; to see them succeed in every single dream they have ever dreamed. The hardest part was watching them leave base, as their smiles faded when they realized their time was complete. Or as we closed the gate, and they just waited there - watching us walk away. All I wanted was for time to pause, to have this time somehow dragged out. Just ten more minutes, please. I can't stop thanking God for sending me here; for choosing me to be one of the many that overwhelm these kids in love and adoration. It is such a gift - my life will forever be changed.
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