More Than a Phase
Lately, I have felt more than a little bit out of place. I know for a fact that many of the people I love and see on a weekly basis just don't understand me anymore and this bothers me in so many ways. The more I try to explain myself, the more frustrating it gets. I know people think I'm a good person, they know that I love Jesus with all my heart, and they know I love children and Africa. Those who understand me a little more know that my heart is to share the gospel and to see people transformed by Christ. They know that I'm in no way perfect but they understand, for the most part, what I stand for.
But then there are those who think that "this Africa thing" is just a passing phase. They think that I'm crazy or daring when I talk about moving to Africa. When I tell stories about ministry in the squatter camps, their only response is "Aren't you afraid?? That's very dangerous!". I often get asked about what my mother thinks of all this. Honestly, it can get frustrating. It seems strange to people that I would want to move to a place that they think has no malls or grocery stores; where, in their mind, man eating lions roam freely and the Ebola plague is awaiting me the moment I step foot on solid ground. I know that sounds dramatic, but I kid you not, I get asked about that stuff all the time.
Those kinds of questions make me feel a bit like an alien. When they hear my response, I often get blank or awkward stares. Sometimes, I just get tired of trying to show people my perspective when all they care about is what I ate, safaris, and what there is to do for fun "in the middle of nowhere". I give myself part of the blame because when talking to certain people, I resort to telling them all about those very minute and unimportant things because I know they don't want to hear me rant about the needs or how important the gospel really is. Believe it or not, that doesn't appeal to most!!! I am ashamed of all the times I've tried to explain to people how westernized some parts of Africa are. I entertain them with my experiences of Johannesburg, the food, the malls, and the lion parks.... But the truth is, none of that is important whatsoever. I am actually sickened when I find myself talking about those things because that's not what matters to me.
Typical shot of one of the squatter camps where you can see hundreds of shacks for miles
So what does matter to me? Why do I go to Africa in the first place? I go because of the many people I met that have never heard the name of Jesus even one time. On my recent trip to Zambia, our team encountered a man on his deathbed who didn't even know who Jesus was, simply because no one had told him. I go, because I see people with no hope who don't know that God loves them and has a perfect plan for their life. They don't know that they don't have to live in fear and in sin because they have no idea that God sent His son for them.
These people are lied to by false teachers, cults, and religions and they believe that they have to do special rituals, sacrifices, and other practices to get to God. They mix ancestral worship with Christian values all while visiting the witch doctor for healing. As I write this, my heart breaks because I am brought back to conversations I've had with women in South Africa. I met a woman who thought God didn't love her because she was black and she believed God only loved white people. I met another woman back in June who thought God would kill her son because of her own sin. These people believe these lies because no one will tell them otherwise. I go because bringing the truth of the gospel matters.
What matters to me is not the beautiful scenery or buying souvenirs at the market, but the people. Because you see, this "Africa thing" isn't about me in the first place. It's about seeing little Gunsie transformed by love. It's about seeing Doreen smile and hearing her giggle and knowing that there was a time in a life where there was no joy. It's about sitting by the fire with the mamas laughing, crying, and talking about the goodness of Jesus. And most importantly, it's about seeing men like Matthew, give his heart to God and find new life!
I go simply because God has asked me to do this, not because I want to. (Though, I do want to!) And I go because I have seen the need and I am responsible. I cannot sit at home and pretend that someone else will do the job for me. I cannot sit at home and call myself a sender when there are not enough workers to gather the harvest in the first place! So in the end, I don't care about the opinions and comments that get thrown my way. I don't care who thinks I'm wreck less or crazy. And you know what? I've decided that I don't care if anyone is proud of me or thinks I'm doing something amazing. I'm not doing this for any of them! And I'm not the one changing Africa anyway. Its all God! He gets the credit and He can have His glory. I am just a vessel... I can't save Africa, and I won't. That isn't my job and I am not capable. But the one who sends me is capable and I will follow Him and go wherever He sends me. This is not a passing phase... This is what I was called to.
Out of my mind,
-Olivia Thabisa Carwright
But then there are those who think that "this Africa thing" is just a passing phase. They think that I'm crazy or daring when I talk about moving to Africa. When I tell stories about ministry in the squatter camps, their only response is "Aren't you afraid?? That's very dangerous!". I often get asked about what my mother thinks of all this. Honestly, it can get frustrating. It seems strange to people that I would want to move to a place that they think has no malls or grocery stores; where, in their mind, man eating lions roam freely and the Ebola plague is awaiting me the moment I step foot on solid ground. I know that sounds dramatic, but I kid you not, I get asked about that stuff all the time.
Those kinds of questions make me feel a bit like an alien. When they hear my response, I often get blank or awkward stares. Sometimes, I just get tired of trying to show people my perspective when all they care about is what I ate, safaris, and what there is to do for fun "in the middle of nowhere". I give myself part of the blame because when talking to certain people, I resort to telling them all about those very minute and unimportant things because I know they don't want to hear me rant about the needs or how important the gospel really is. Believe it or not, that doesn't appeal to most!!! I am ashamed of all the times I've tried to explain to people how westernized some parts of Africa are. I entertain them with my experiences of Johannesburg, the food, the malls, and the lion parks.... But the truth is, none of that is important whatsoever. I am actually sickened when I find myself talking about those things because that's not what matters to me.
So what does matter to me? Why do I go to Africa in the first place? I go because of the many people I met that have never heard the name of Jesus even one time. On my recent trip to Zambia, our team encountered a man on his deathbed who didn't even know who Jesus was, simply because no one had told him. I go, because I see people with no hope who don't know that God loves them and has a perfect plan for their life. They don't know that they don't have to live in fear and in sin because they have no idea that God sent His son for them.
These people are lied to by false teachers, cults, and religions and they believe that they have to do special rituals, sacrifices, and other practices to get to God. They mix ancestral worship with Christian values all while visiting the witch doctor for healing. As I write this, my heart breaks because I am brought back to conversations I've had with women in South Africa. I met a woman who thought God didn't love her because she was black and she believed God only loved white people. I met another woman back in June who thought God would kill her son because of her own sin. These people believe these lies because no one will tell them otherwise. I go because bringing the truth of the gospel matters.
What matters to me is not the beautiful scenery or buying souvenirs at the market, but the people. Because you see, this "Africa thing" isn't about me in the first place. It's about seeing little Gunsie transformed by love. It's about seeing Doreen smile and hearing her giggle and knowing that there was a time in a life where there was no joy. It's about sitting by the fire with the mamas laughing, crying, and talking about the goodness of Jesus. And most importantly, it's about seeing men like Matthew, give his heart to God and find new life!
I go simply because God has asked me to do this, not because I want to. (Though, I do want to!) And I go because I have seen the need and I am responsible. I cannot sit at home and pretend that someone else will do the job for me. I cannot sit at home and call myself a sender when there are not enough workers to gather the harvest in the first place! So in the end, I don't care about the opinions and comments that get thrown my way. I don't care who thinks I'm wreck less or crazy. And you know what? I've decided that I don't care if anyone is proud of me or thinks I'm doing something amazing. I'm not doing this for any of them! And I'm not the one changing Africa anyway. Its all God! He gets the credit and He can have His glory. I am just a vessel... I can't save Africa, and I won't. That isn't my job and I am not capable. But the one who sends me is capable and I will follow Him and go wherever He sends me. This is not a passing phase... This is what I was called to.
2 Corinthians 5:13-15
If we are "out of our mind", as some of you say, it is for God; if we are in our right mind, it is for you. For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.
Out of my mind,
-Olivia Thabisa Carwright
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