Is there anything too hard?

I was a person before coming to Zambia, a product of my environment and the experiences in my life. I knew when I came to Zambia that the people were different in their thinking and their experiences of life. I accepted that. I understood that I needed to understand how they thought and to respect their culture. Each day as I go about my life in Zambia I have to suppress the person I have been for now fifty years. Zambians don’t show a lot of emotion. I am an emotional person. I manage to suppress my emotions for a period of time but release has to come. When that release begins to show, my Zambian friends want to tell me how I should react (as they would react). They tell me “no, you are thinking wrong.” How can my thoughts be wrong? It’s my experience. My thoughts are mine. I just want to express myself in a way that is familiar to me. The problem is that they will never be able to understand me because they have not experienced my life or the culture I come from.
Oh, now I get it... I have a God who see me (El Roi)... when it comes down to it. He is the only one I can depend on. Why is it I have to learn this lesson over and over and over? I will never find what I am looking for here on earth. Everything I need is in Him. He knew me before I was born. He knows the number of hairs on my head. He knows my past, my present and my future. He knows what I am thinking before I do. He knows my emotions. So, once again, I lay myself on the altar. I surrender to Him. It's a daily activity.

The above is a journal entry from last week. After almost two years here I thought I had finally hit the wall and even had thoughts that maybe it was time to return home. The only problem is that I’m not sure where home is…

At the time I wrote the above entry I was being too self-focused to really understand what was happening. All I could think about was the event planned for the weekend and how I had messed up big time. How I had been wronged. I never considered what God’s plan might be.

I had been asked to be one of the speakers at an IlI Conference (International Leadership Institute) for women. I was glad to accept since this is one of the areas I will be getting more involved with when I move to Lusaka. I also believe in the curriculum and was anxious to communicate it to the Zimba women. The problem came on the Monday before the conference was to start on Wednesday.

One of the other facilitators had called me that morning to ask who was in charge. What???? It wasn’t me or at least I didn’t think it was me. Two of the ladies who were also facilitators were called to attend a workshop in Livingstone which meant they couldn’t help prepare for the event. I was informed that I was in charge… now how did that happen and when did I agree to such?

I quickly realized that nothing had been done to prepare for the conference. Thirty ladies would be arriving on Wednesday afternoon tired and hungry from travel. Who would greet them? Would there be food for them? Where were they sleeping? None of the other conference facilitators seemed to be taking any responsibility. I had my own plans for the week and this was not one of them.

My martyr personality came into full swing and as I worked diligently to make sure every detail was attended to I also developed an attitude towards my team. I found them irresponsible, uncaring and selfish. Add to this that we had a limited budget that didn’t come close to covering all the costs involved. Unfortunately, I ended up covering some of the costs with my personal money. I’d like to say I did it unselfishly but it was done with resentment and without joy. I’ll have to deal with that later on my knees.

I prayed for my attitude but my prayers didn’t keep me from blasting two of the members when I felt wronged by their actions. Of course, guilt entered into the scene and the next two days were spent worrying about whether I had just ended my last days in Zimba as local enemy #1.

Can you see where this is going? The conference I was looking forward to was becoming a burden. I wasn’t enjoying or even looking forward to Wednesday. I really just wanted to let someone else do it and when I lost my temper that was the last straw. This was not an example of Christ’s love. I knew there was something wrong.

As the conference approached the Holy Spirit convicted me that my attitude and frustrations were all a result of spiritual warfare. God had something great planned for the conference and Satan was doing everything possible to thwart my efforts to provide an atmosphere where the attendees could feel free to hear God’s word.

I think you can measure the outcome God has for an event by the difficulties we face in preparing for it. Trust me, God had great plans for this leadership conference. I have never experienced such a spiritual attack. There was a heaviness around that I had not experienced before. I thank God that there were faithful women available to pray over me and for me during this time. Even one of the ladies I had blasted came to my house to pray for me. She understood that I was not myself.

The first night of the conference only 5 ladies appeared. By the next morning we ended the first session with 16 ladies. The ladies invited were pastors wives, children’ directors and women’s directors. They were an enthusiastic group starting each session with praise music and prayer. You could see in their eyes that they were “getting it” and wanting more.

I spoke on the second full day of sessions. Before speaking I confessed my sin of martyrdom and how I allowed Satan to hinder the joy in the preparation of the conference. I praised God that I had overcome the struggle. I told the ladies I was expecting great things from the conference and couldn’t wait until the close on Saturday to hear how He had worked.

I began to speak on goal setting. As I spoke I found culturally relevant examples coming to my mind that I had not planned. Inside I was saying, “Wow, this is good. Where did this come from?" I certainly had not had the time to prepare for it. Goal setting is a topic we hear over and over in the states and it can be quite a dry subject but these ladies were eager and asked incredible questions.

I didn’t have to wait until the end of the conference to hear how God had worked. When I had finished the goal setting session, several ladies stood to speak. They were excited to share how much the session had meant to them. One of the comments was that even if they had come for that session alone, it would have been worth it. They had been placed in leadership and had no idea how to set goals. One older lady, Mrs. Mudenda, who was probably in her 60s asked “Where has this information been and why has no one shared it with us before.”

It was an awesome experience and such an affirming one. God was using me to speak to these women and to empower them to become Godly leaders who would in turn influence their communities. The best part was that it was definitely Him speaking through me and not anything I had done to prepare myself. It’s not time to come home…

The conference continued and each of the speakers did an incredible job. The women were instructed on integrity, family values, mentoring and evangelism. The testimonies continued throughout the weekend and it was obvious that this conference was ordained by God. I was so thrilled that I was able to recognize the spiritual battle, ask for help and confess my unbelief. I’m so glad that my God is victorious in all things.

“Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh. Is there anything too hard for me?”– Jeremiah 32:27