Come into the Dirt with Me

For the first time in years, I can honestly say that I like waking up in the morning with a new day ahead of me more than I like retreating to my bed and escaping my life at night.  Truly, Jesus has come to give life and life to the fullest. 

Thursday was one of the most beautiful days of my life.  I went to a Bible Study (in English!) with Alice and about ten other missionary women from America, Brazil, and Portugal.  Even though I am far from my biological family, I know that I have brothers and sisters here.  I loved talking to the ladies and hearing the stories of how God brought them to Mozambique.  As we bowed our heads together in prayer, I knew that I was at home.

After Bible Study, Alice and I returned to the apartment to pick up Mila a Portuguese friend who stayed with us for two days.  Let me tell you a little about Mila.  Mila is a tiny little lady with a strong Portuguese accent.  She is a widow with grown children, and now she comes to Mozambique every year to spend three months living at a rural orphanage/kindergarten in Metola.  Although Mila and I had a hard time communicating, we hold each other close to our hearts.  She could have an exquisite life in Portugal, but instead she chooses a life without consistent electricity, without internet, in the dirt, and with very few material possessions.   She chooses to seek the kingdom of Heaven and see the value of each and every human heart.  Before driving Mila to Metola, we stopped at the supermarket so that she could purchase groceries for the next three months.  Then we were off. 

Clouds of dust arose as our vehicle turned onto the dirt path that brought us to the kindergarten.  When we arrived and stepped out into the African dirt, children charged us.  A little boy came flying into my arms and before I knew it, dozens of children we pressing in to get a glimpse of the foreigner.  I crouched down to give as many kisses as possible, and before I knew it, there were so many children piled on top of me that I fell into the dirt.  It had not been my plan to get dirty as we were going to a going away party for a missionary family later; but as I sat in the dirt with the children, I realized that if the children are in the dirt then that is where I want to be too.  I have never felt more joy than I did in that moment with dust covering my body, dirty fingers combing my hair, sticky hands rubbing my skin, and runny noses dripping snot on my leg. 

 

So often Jesus was in the dirt, and I believe that He invites me there too.  I can choose to tread on the dirt or even build a house on it to shield myself from seeing, feeling, tasting, or smelling it.  Yes, my life might be more comfortable this way.  After all, it is messy, tiresome, and difficult to dig into the dirt; but it is in the dirt that I find the most beautiful treasure.  If I choose not to seek the buried treasure, I risk never seeing the diamond, the rose, or the human being that arises from the dirt.  One day, Love stopped for me and found me in the dirt.  Every time that I fall into the dirt, He is once again there to lend me His hand and pick me up.  Now, instead of considering the pain, the dirt, and the agony, I will strive relentlessly for the one caught in the rubble.  They are beautiful and are worth even my life because by the blood of Jesus they are washed of the dirt and their darkest stains just as I have been.  Then I get to see unimaginable beauty, and I smile.  I have nothing to fear; Love is on my side.