Living in Africa was an odd combination of the most exhausting, dangerous, and angering part of my life. Injustice, and lack of utilities, can do that to a girl. 

But it was also where I felt most throbbingly alive, where the rumblings of God’s work were keenly felt for me. As lean and muscular of a time as it was—the purpose of it, the accessibility of working with the down-and-out, propelled me to that rare privilege of the spot where I best connect to God’s heart. Felt precious to cultivate that field, uncovering the treasures He’s implanted in the poor and nurturing it toward a blossom. I love who it made my children, my husband. Who it made me.  

I loved the Africans I know; a horde of sparkling Ugandans more than capable of leading their own country while we, like so many before us, wheeled our bags onto a 757, to a more anonymous life with a consistent electrical supply. 

Because we’re not heroes. This is God’s work to complete. And sometimes He says no. 

And when He asks me to step away, no role is too insignificant. Essayist Andree Seu’s words stuck on replay in my mind: “I figure if the King tells you to conquer the hinterlands one day and shoe his horse the next day, you should do them both without slacking. He is the king.”

Vision for my new life, beyond the one for my husband and kids—infinitely worth this decision—took years. But even then, that same King whispered to me, there in the void. 

C.S. Lewis penned these words in The Screwtape Letters, which a senior demon writes to his protégé: 

“Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause [the Devil’s cause] is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending to do our Enemy’s will [God’s will], looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys.” 

Sometimes the loss rolled over me in waves, my head tilted just above water. I felt in dire need of grace that allows my sadness, occasional lack of direction, and even passivity or anger in a season I struggled to interpret. My goals were faithfulness, courage, and to love well. To finish well, hopefully with work continuing after we clanged our gate closed for the last time. At times, I failed miserably. 

Yet His power has always been perfect for what He’s asked of me. May He give you, too, the strength for whatever He requires of you. Never forget you are dearly loved.