FINDING MY HEART IN AFRICA

LEARNING to trust God's plan
by Ashley McCleery

Photo by Daniel Ruck

As we cruised down the open road, I gazed warily at the Driver wondering if He knew where He was going. “God,” I said addressing the One sitting in the driver’s seat and guiding me down the road of life. “You just missed our turn.” Before He could get in a word edgewise, I said, “You see, I want to work with a prestigious magazine and become a world renowned journalist, and we just passed that road on the right.” As I tried to grab the wheel, I said, “Don’t worry. I’ll attribute all my success to You.” Before I gained control of the car, He gently took the wheel and compassionately said, “Ashley, let’s go for a ride.”

I had no idea that ride would take me on a two month mission trip to Swaziland, a tiny country located in South Africa. I also had no idea why God desperately wanted me there, but I soon found out.

With a stuffed hiking backpack and a suitcase filled to the brim with ministry supplies, I was ready for training camp in Gainesville, Ga. During worship the second night there, my team learned an African praise song and dance to accompany it. Filled with joy, I joined a moving line of dancers. As I stomped to the beat in the “conga line,” I stepped in a hole bending my left foot in a 90 degree angle, which shot excruciating pain through my body.

The next day, I stared at my swollen, purple foot and prayed frantically, “What should I do, God? What if it’s broken? Will they send me home?” Replacing fear, God gave me an overwhelming sense of peace with the scripture Romans 10:15, which states, “How will anyone go and tell them without being sent? That is what the Scriptures mean when they say, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!’” I glanced down at my bruised foot, and I knew God had a sense of humor. But, I also knew God was telling me to continue on my journey because He was still in the driver’s seat.

Upon inspection, a staff member and former nurse said it probably was just a sprain and it would heal within a week. Until then, I was advised to use my team as much as possible in getting from place to place. And, that’s exactly what I did. For two weeks, my team carried me and acted as my crutches. Although my foot still hurt, I was able to walk very slowly on my own by the third week. By the fifth week, I miraculously climbed Execution Rock, the highest mountain in Swaziland.

As I climbed up the final steep rock to the top and stared at the beautiful green hills of Swaziland, God whispered, “Don’t limit me, Ashley.” I heard this phrase once more when I went to the doctor back at home and discovered God had sustained me for two months on a broken foot and three torn ligaments.

Although my foot was a small hindrance to my ministry, I discovered my own stubbornness to be the largest hindrance. I did not want to minister to the sick. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about them, but I knew that wasn’t my gift. Instead, I delved all my energy into the local orphans. For the first couple of weeks, my team led Vacation Bible Schools, taught informal school and hosted a community wide orphan camp. However, during the orphan camp, God opened my eyes.

After singing, dancing and feeding over 200 orphans at the camp, my team and I tried to convince the hyper kids to sleep. When the noise subsided, I squished in between several orphans and tried to sleep myself. Automatically, a little girl and boy cuddled with me in hopes of warmth and comfort from the freezing concrete floor. As I cradled these two precious gifts, I realized why these children and over 70,000 children in Swazi are orphans: AIDS. Right then and there, God changed my hopes and desires for the trip. I wanted to visit the hospitals.

Cautiously, I entered the children’s ward of the hospital unaware of what God had in store. I was definitely not prepared to see rows upon rows of beds housing children wrapped in bandages with severe burns, babies struggling to survive with IVs stemming from their tiny heads, children suffering from Tuberculosis and AIDS and the dear boy I came to love, Thembenkosi.

I walked to Thembenkosi’s bed and immediately knew this was where God wanted me to be. With one look at this precious nine-year-old boy, God broke my heart. His thighs, the size of my wrist, stuck through toddler diapers and his sunken eyes rolled back in his head as he went in and out of consciousness. Each breath was such a labor as his chest heaved to achieve one gasp of air. I knew I was staring death in the face. AIDS was stealing his life.

Despite the overwhelming despair in the hospital, God allowed me to bring joy. As I watched this sweet boy deteriorate, I prayed over him, sang praises to the only One who could heal him and read hope from the Bible. Eventually, the Lord took him home where he isn’t suffering anymore.

Although I had claimed earlier that being with the sick wasn’t my gift, God obviously knew otherwise. With this one precious boy, the Lord changed my heart and showed me that I had once again limited Him.

However, Thembenkosi wasn’t the only person God wanted me to bring His love to. Throughout the rest of the summer, I visited two different hospitals and spread my time between the children’s ward and the women’s ward. And, Thembenkosi wasn’t the only one who reminded me I had limited God.

Walking into the Tuberculosis ward one day, I approached a woman who was sitting in her bed reading. I introduced myself and she did the same. Joyfully, she clutched her Bible with one hand, grabbed my hands with the other and proclaimed in rough English, “My name is Nelisiwe. I have Tuberculosis, and I’m HIV positive, but I know my Jesus is going to heal me.”

At that moment, tears welled in my eyes full of shame. I was ashamed for doubting that God would heal my foot. I was ashamed for doubting my spiritual gifts. I was ashamed for doubting God’s power. I was ashamed for doubting God’s plan for my life. I had been limiting God, and it needed to stop. “Oh Lord, take the wheel,” I prayed. “And this time I mean it.”

But, what does it really mean to give God the wheel to our lives? As Christians we are called to live a life glorifying our Savior, but more than that we are called to surrender to Him. We need to surrender our plans and aspirations for the future realizing God knows far better than we do what’s best for our lives. We need to die to self and live for Christ. When we crucify our plans, we allow God to bring His power into our lives. We allow Him to be the Potter and us the clay.

By surrendering my whole life, not just a portion, to God in Swazi, I saw how He changed the desires of my heart. My dreams and desires for my life have changed and now they hopefully match His.

Even though I experienced God’s provision in Swazi, I still struggle with doubts about my future. When I do have doubts, I open His precious Word and cling to Isaiah 55:8-9, which states, ‘”My thoughts are completely different than yours,’ says the Lord. ‘And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.’”