I Am a House...

Contrary to popular opinion, not having running water, a working shower, a toilet that leaks, locks that stop working after 3 uses, and a brand new fridge that does not cool down, is not SO bad...The fact that I have a cement house (Thank you Arco Iris for providing housing)--that is almost level, with brand new tiles (thank you Mozambican construction crew) fresh paint (Thank you Brittnie Furuvald) an incredible view, and when there is a breeze...the best airflow--shows that I am way more fortunate than most who live here...mud huts that may or may not last through the rainy season, with no mosquito nets covering the windows, a cloth door, a dirt floor, and maybe if they are wealthy some electricity...I am blessed to be where I am...

Life in Africa can be daunting and challenging at times, but even in the midst of the “wrongs” I am awed that this is my life. There is so much more to this journey than complaining over what works and what does not. I have been pondering the sovereignty of God for almost a year now in great depths. Something about my journey, walking with Him, I’m beginning to see that He is purposeful in everything...even by allowing discomfort to teach me lessons for this little walk called life.

Why did I move into a brand new “finished” house in order to contend with such “issues” which in light of Eternity are trivial and meaningless at best? When God created man, He said that he was, “Very good.” Man is merely made of dust and breath...this house in which I write this page is made of dust, water, and air... Yet, when both were completed, was the work truly finished?

I can liken myself to being a house...a fixer upper at best. I am far from being finished... Daily the Master Potter, Craftsman, Builder...adds and removes to my house. A foundation of cement was laid in my house, and painted...it was firm, yet it constantly held the appearance of being dirty--could be a western mind that doesn’t see cement as a finished product, I mean I was born in a world of tile, wood floor, carpet, linoleum etc...For some reason, the floor was not complete until it had tiles...upon careful placement of tile, one by one, glued in place with cement, even in it’s dirty unfinished state, the floor began to look like a floor, not just a foundation.

Christ is the solid foundation on which I stand. And upon THAT foundation, He begins to build His house. I am His house, His temple, His vessel...He built a structure that can stand and is now adding to the details of what makes my house beautiful and unique. He lays the tiles to add character and personality, to bring invitation, to make me a space that feels like a resting place, not a workspace/construction zone. He is turning my house into a home.

Maybe I will save all the thoughts about every particular “problem” for subsequent blogs, but ultimately each item in this African house of mine can be a shadow of what needs fixing in my own life...or even just more details to make me more of a home...I want to be a home that is a place where life can happen, where dreams are dreamed, and where rest is welcome. This journey is one of turning building of mud, cement, and water into a home...The transformation process has begun...


Love, Desi:)