Jigsaw

It's hard to remember a life before I went to Malawi.  This will be my third trip and I'm already starting at least one sentence every day with "When I was in Malawi . . . ."

I didn't know why I went to Malawi the first year.  Something compelled me to go, someone put the bug in my ear.

Last year was easier: The only thing I forgot to pack for my first trip to Malawi was my wife Allie (and I decided to bring my younger brother along for good measure).  Nothing compares to sharing those two weeks with Allie, trying to combine our collective memories and makes sense of all the overwhelming things we saw.

What I've learned is that the why of going doesn't always make itself present immediately.  I've always left Iowa behind not sure what is coming over the next few weeks, but open to what does happen.  Looking back, it's easy to see the things and people that have touched my heart, the things that have shaped my faith, and the things that have fit snugly together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

It shouldn't take two weeks in Africa (or four or six) to know what really matters in life.  You shouldn't have to go to another continent to remember what it feels like to not have a cell phone and to be able to focus on people without distraction.

It should not have taken me two weeks in one of the poorest countries in the world to understand how deeply and richly blessed my life is.  By some grace-filled miracle I have more than I need and far more than I could ever deserve.

Phil