On the unexpected

As of today, my stay in Mali is halfway over.  In just a little over three more weeks, we head back to Bamako to wing our way home to the frozen tundra of the United States. :) Honestly, I'm trying not to think about it.  It sometimes feels like I just got here - I can't wrap my head around leaving!  I can only focus on today, right here, this moment.

In other words, I'm getting pretty good at being an African. ;)

I really had no expectations for this trip.  I had no idea why God told me to come to Mali, so I've been surprised and excited by everything He's shown me here.  I don't have an agenda; I don't have a program; I don't have any (or at least not many) preconceived notions.  I'm just here to learn.  And God has taken me off-guard in so many wonderful, unexpected ways.

For instance, just last night I was able to pay my second visit to the village of Leleni.  It's 25 [very bumpy] kilometers out of town and is only accessible via roads mostly indistinguishable to the American eye.   Three thousand people live in this village; six of them are Christians.  The amazing part is that it seems so hidden.  You drive along these bumpy, dusty, twisty roads, not seeing any humans for kilometers on end and suddenly boom - 3,000 souls right smack-dab in the middle of the bush.  It makes me wonder how many more of these villages are hidden away on roads I can't see, and whether anyone is reaching them, teaching them, or even just praying for them.  That's not something we see in America, these places that have simply never heard the gospel.  We take it for granted that there is a church in every town and that most people have at least heard of the Christian God.  That's just not the case here.  And it's overwhelming to look out at the scrubland and realize that there are people hidden out there, dying every single day, never hearing that Jesus loves them and died for them.

Another unexpected lesson I've had is a little more, shall we say, controversial.  Yet I feel that this is one of my biggest takeaways from this trip so far and has to be said.  Many people, when they talk about having taken a trip like this one, tell of how their trip made them realize just how blessed we are to live in a place like America.  God has been so good to us, they say, to let us live in a place with so many conveniences and luxuries that we take for granted.

I beg to differ on that.

Are we really so blessed?  Have all our conveniences and commonplace luxuries made us blessed - or spoiled?  

Could we really learn to thrive - without complaining - with no running water in our homes and not even the option of electricity?  Could we be thankful for dirty vegetables, buggy grains, and dog meat?  When was the last time we greeted a complete stranger and asked after their health, their spouse, their children, their village, and their work?  When did we last make tea and carry it over to our neighbor's house, with no expectations and no desire for reciprocation?  Do we ever find joy in helping a total stranger learn our language?  And has it ever just made your day to wave at someone whose skin is a different color from yours?

I'm not saying we should all be Africans, and I'm not saying I've mastered all this perfectly.  All I am saying is that there is no need to insult people in "developing" countries by pitying them.  Instead, it might do us in the "developed" nations a whole world of good to humble ourselves and learn from these beautiful people instead of trying to be their saviors.