My feet hurt, my back hurt, I was covered in sweat, and there was still more work to do. Making chapati, a Kenyan version of a tortilla was hard work. I imagine we rolled at least 100 that day.
My head is quick to want to quit or complain in situations like this. Because I’m a visitor, I know that I could say “it’s too hard” and they would let me leave. I know that some of you probably think that I’m this great missionary who gives all of herself but that’s just not true. I struggle with my flesh daily, regardless of where I am and my flesh was really winning this battle.
The sun was so hot and the smoke from the fire burned my eyes but it wasn’t body that was giving up, it was my heart.
And right there in the middle of rolling with flour covered hands, Jesus met me. He reminded me of His sweat, His hands, and how He wanted to give up on that day when He saved me. How this small moment of serving looks more like His love than the moments where hundreds of dollars are given.
And to be honest guys, it wasn’t that hard. It was a couple hours of work that I wasn’t used to. I was exhausted afterwards but those sweet moments with the older girls are moments I’ll have forever. The laughs, the smiles, and the joy – all things I wouldn’t have gotten had I been the typical American diva that I usually am. Jesus & I are working on that.
Spending time with people will go farther than money ever will.