I’ve been back from Zambia for over a month now and haven’t yet posted a blog about it. Or about much of anything, for that matter. It’s time to break the silence. 🙂
First of all, a miracle. I sold a song I wrote to raise money for my trip. Anyone who reads this probably knows that. What you may not know is how successful of a failure that whole thing was.
Here’s what I mean. I needed to raise $3900. That’s a chunk of change. And about three weeks before I left, I had raised less than $1500. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a lot of money. But it’s a long way from what I needed. I was feeling discouraged. I was doubting if I should go or not. Maybe it was stupid of me to commit to going back so soon. I was thinking, “if I’m going to make Zambia a part of my life, I’ve got to do better than this.”
A little more trickled in over the next few weeks, but I had resigned myself to the idea that our savings account was gonna take a hit with this trip, and that it’d probably be my last trip to Africa for a while. That was until the last three days before I left, when the last $1700 dollars I needed came to me from some places I least expected it. If you’re reading this, you know who you are.
So I got to see some miracles happen, learned some valuable lessons, and I want to thank everyone who was a part of that miracle. Everyone who donated toward my trip, I realize that you didn’t have to do that, and I sincerely thank you. Some of you gave big. Some of you gave really, really big. To those who gave, I want you to know something. This trip was significant because I realized on this trip that Zambia is a part of me now. It’s become a marathon, not a sprint anymore. I didn’t take any pictures and I didn’t buy myself any souvenirs, because it’s moved from being a novelty in my life to being a staple.
One of the guitar cables I brought back with me is still coated in Zambian dirt. I don’t want to wash it off yet. That red dust that covers the cable which connects my guitar to my amp is probably a better reminder of Zambia than anything else I’ve brought back. When leading worship in the affluence and apathy that can often characterize the American church scene, I don’t mind sending my guitar signal through a little of Africa before it hits my eardrum. Maybe it will bring the sound of hope with it – not for them, but for us.