i was young and foolish

I moved to Africa twelve years ago today. It feels like a lifetime ago in some ways, and in others, it feels like just yesterday.

Some people think I was brave and bold for packing up and moving to Africa when I was 19.

If I was either, I certainly didn't know it.

I felt a whole mix of emotions on that long flight across the Atlantic, but brave and bold weren't in the mix.

Sad, frightened, and unsure were though.

Right next to equal doses of anticipation, hopefulness, and nervous-excitement.

I was young. And slightly foolish.

Foolish enough to think I had something offer. Foolish enough to believe I'd felt God's leading. Foolish enough to imagine He could use me.

Twelve years later, I smirk as I thank God that I still have some foolishness in me.

Part of me thinks it's a little wrong to celebrate my "Afriversary" in America. But it isn't the first time. And it probably won't be the last.

And it doesn't change the fact that twelve years ago today, the entire trajectory of my life changed forever.

Here's to another year lived for Africa, even if not in Africa.

risky faith

Remember when I said I wanted to trust God for even greater things? Apparently God was listening.

Our financial situation at Thrive Africa is extremely tight right now.

I wrote an email to our partners, letting them know what our needs are and how they can help. It was an unbelievably challenging letter to write, even though I've been raising funds for missions since, ohhhhhh, 1992.

This email took me waaaaay outside my comfort zone.

It's the biggest, boldest ask in Thrive's history.

We are trusting God for $80K in new support by June 1.

And my faith is being stretched to almost-painful extremes.

But I know God has greater things still in store for Thrive.

So we're moving forward in active trust.

I'm working on the details of my huge fundraising trip that starts in just a couple weeks. I'll be in Tennessee, Washington, Oregon, California, Colorado, and Virginia. (Let me know if you want to help!)

We launched a new website that shows how you can impact South Africa, and each week we're going to celebrate 10 Buck Tuesday.

If you've been around a while, you know I don't ask for prayer very often.

But I would really appreciate your prayers right now.

For Thrive. For provision. For my trip.

And for my faith to be strong in the One who is strongest.

Easy Links: Big, Bold Ask Thrive Africa Fundraising Campaign 10 Buck Tuesday Thrive Online Store

do something

We just launched our Thrive Africa online store.

We've got custom t-shirts, hoodies, mugs, bracelets, and coffee, and the proceeds go directly to funding our ministry in South Africa.

I love all our merch, but by far my favorite is the coffee. Because it's unique. I mean, lots of organizations sell t-shirts. But c'mon! Who has their own custom blend of coffee?! So fun that we do.

It's fair-trade and organic. And it's made with all African-grown beans.

From Africa, for Africa.

I love that!

So take a look around. Maybe you'll see something you like. You can even create a wish list to give someone an oh-so-subtle hint.

Will you help spread the word?

You can tell people about Thrive. Blog or tweet about our new online store. Grab one of these graphics to put up on your site.

Click on the graphics to see size options & to copy the HTML code.

Help us train African leaders and turn the tide of the AIDS pandemic.

Do something.

my altogether different africa

The Gypsy Mama and I have been living each other's lives. Well, kinda. I've lived in South Africa for 12 years. Just about as long as she's lived in America.

She's a South African married to an American. I'm an American married to a South African. Or at least I was. But that's a whole other story for a whole other day.

South Africa has become home for me, although it was certainly an adjustment. Things are just different. Like the common practice of not refrigerating condiments. And grown men grocery shopping in their bare feet. And the fact that jam means jelly and jelly means jell-o.

We drive on the wrong left side of the road in cars that are more ladylike than they are in the States. They have bonnets and boots instead of hoods and trunks.

There's no central heating (even though we get snow where I live!) but I've learned to build fires in my fireplace the old fashioned way. I'd make Bear Grylls proud. The windows, which are permanently open in summer, have no screens. And I hate bugs. ::shudder::

I'm still trying to understand the difference between the South African phrases now, just now, and now now. Because they basically all mean I'll get to it when I get to it.

Speaking of... Things happen slower in Africa. Which often causes a flare-up of my Kinko's-quick American impatience, but has taught me some valuable lessons: Faster isn't always better. God cares more about the missionary than the mission. Relationships matter.

Nuggets of wisdom lace every contrast between my here-home and there-home. And I love that. There is a unique joy in discovering more about God and myself in the tapestry of cultural diversity.

I love my altogether different and altogether beautiful Africa.

In all her grit and glory.

[originally a guest post on The Gypsy Mama's site...]

even greater things

I've seen God do some incredible things through me in my lifetime. He used a poem I wrote as a nine-year-old girl to bring my separated parents back together.

On my mission trips as a teenager, He spoke through my faltering words to lead people to salvation.

I've stepped out in faith for eleventh-hour financial provision, and had money miraculously show up at the last minute.

In my early years of living in Africa, I rubbed cataracts out of a woman's eyes.

I saw a man's leg grow out six inches as I prayed over him.

I pulled a lame man to his feet and watched him take his first steps.

I get goosebumps just thinking about the amazing things God has done. And I feel humbled that He's chosen to use me.

But it all feels like ancient history.

It's been a very long time since God's done something supernatural through me.

But I know it's not because He's changed.

I think somewhere along the line, I stopped believing Him for the miraculous.

My faith grew dim.

I got "busy".

And I stopped actively trusting.

But I want my faith back. I want to trust Him for the miraculous again.

I want to trust Him for even greater things.

That feels like a huge risk right now. My battle-weary heart is scared to hope, to believe.

But every mighty move of God in my life has required an act of faith.

And, Lord knows, I need Him to move mightily.

Not just through me, but in me.

So I'm asking Him to strengthen my faith and fill me with the assurance that He is trustworthy.

Whether He ever does another miracle through my hands or not, I want to live with heart-risking trust that He can.