Worth the Wait

It’s time….finally.

The supplies are gathered, the bags are packed, and we leave Saturday. It has felt like forever waiting for this day, but in reality it’s actually been just 2 years. In March of 2020 our trip for that summer was canceled; yet another casualty of the pandemic. We had no idea it would be 2 years before we could go again. The wait has been hard. For us, but mostly for those waiting for us to come.

Watching God supply every need for this year’s trip has been nothing short of astonishing. The donated funds and supplies are the most we’ve ever experienced. It was like God said, “just in case you are doubting the call to go, let me assure you that I have indeed said ‘go.’” Funds have come from friends and family, church members, and from some very unexpected places. Every week when I walked in to church there were more supplies in the donation bin. Almost daily I’m asked, “what else do you need?” I feel a little like Moses when he had to tell the Israelites to stop bringing donations for the tabernacle….we have all we need. We thank you for every $1.25 tube of medicine or pack of bandaids, and for every check written or envelope of cash given. We will be taking over 300lbs of supplies with us.

I feel a tremendous sense of responsibility to represent each one of you. You are the part of the team that stays behind. The givers and the prayer warriors. Those standing in the gap between Washington and Malawi. The hands and feet of Jesus as much as the 5 of us who go. Thank you for being part of the team! We are honored to serve with you.

My heart is full of so many emotions. One is fear. No, not that kind of fear… fear that I have forgotten something! As the coordinator of supplies, it’s my job to make sure we have it all! That feels overwhelming.

I’m also filled with anticipation. I can already smell the air when I step outside the airport in Malawi. I can hear familiar voices shouting “Muli Bwanji” and I can feel arms wrapped around me as friends welcome me home. I can hear the laughter as we greet new friends and try to say unfamiliar names. I can feel the jarring of the bus as it travels the dirt roads, and I can smell the cooking fires burning as we near the villages. I can picture the sites that tell me we are once again “home.” These are the “known” that I anticipate.

I am excited for the work we will do. So many children we will see. Clinic days will be busy, bursting with activity, noise, and smiling faces. We will also see the sick ones. We will be able to give medicine because of others' generosity. We will hold them and pray over them and meet their physical needs when we can. These are the unknowns. Who will God bring to us to care for and love? What kinds of medical challenges will we face?

We will be tired. Very tired. We will be dirty. So very dirty. We will miss home and hot showers, and modern conveniences or food. But none of it will matter. For the few days we get to be with the beautiful people of Malawi and learn from them and be loved by them, and worship with them, and work alongside them, none of it will matter at all. Counting it all joy will be the easy part!