Iremember talking to a friend before I left for Zambia. She asked me if I realized that this was a forever kind of thing, that this was going to change me for good. I did not really know how to respond. I remember thinking to myself, “I cannot possibly change that much.” But I did not know I could love a baby boy that much. I did not know what real suffering or true poverty looked like. I had never made a real friendship with a girl from a culture vastly different from my own. I had never sung a song in a foreign language before with 300 people. I had never loved the way I learned to love. I had never hurt for a person the way I hurt for the people in Zambia. I had never held a baby whom I claimed as my own. I did not know I would be changed because I never realized what all could be changed.
And because of that change Harding is no longer comfortable. I don’t always know how to react when someone begins to complain about how long a line is or why people do not sing at the top of their lungs in chapel. But Zambia was confusing also; I was always afraid of offending someone or what would happen to me in those desperate moments when I couldn’t communicate to someone. If I am truly honest with myself, my home is not Africa, but my home is not America either. The Bible talks in Hebrews about the people who were constantly searching for a country of their own. I know how they feel. I feel off balance, uncomfortable, out of my skin, looking for that country. And God says to my heart that this is exactly how I am supposed to feel. I am where I am supposed to be, which has nothing to do with where I am physically, but everything to do with where I am spiritually. The more I am unaware of the land beneath my feet, the more aware I become of where God is leading me.
But right now I am in Searcy, Ark. And so are you. I see the same hunger in the eyes of these people as I did in those in Africa. If Harding is really a campus where the spirit of God dwells, a God who breathed stars into existence, the creator of the universe — if that is true then this town should look drastically different. Our call has been to glorify God constantly, to everyone, even in the Wal-mart parking lot, even at Waffle House, even in Africa. It really should be the only thing we can do. It is not enough to have faith in God and call it good. If I cannot serve God when I am surrounded by a whole campus of Christians, then how can I expect myself to serve him when confronted with one person who hates the name of Jesus? This happens to be our mission field. These happen to be the people we are to witness to, the people we are to love. If this land is really not our home and we are just passing through, let us at least transform the landscape as we march on home.
