A Post by Amanda. And Prison. #2

This is Amanda and I's room... No, actually not really.

Amanda: So where do I start? I don’t know where the beginning is, but I’m scared I see the end. Where am I? In Africa of course, but not in my bed sleeping peacefully like I pictured a week ago when I was safe and sound in the United States. Other than the extreme heat, I thought everything was normal (whatever that is) when I went to bed tonight. I woke up to what sounds like a train running through my room. When I ask if everything is okay, I’m informed the roof over my head is nothing more than a thin sheet of tin, which is at this point flapping in the wind. I turn on my flashlight and notice Danette is not sleeping in her regular pajamas, but has pants on. I question, “where did those come from and maybe do I need some?” She informs me, “it may be a good idea just in case we lose the roof”. So, here I am, I have just gone from a peaceful sleep to wondering at what moment I will be laying under the open sky. My logical response is to go downstairs so that I wont get blown into the Sahara desert. Quickly I learn that much like the roof, the walls are not strong and the trees could come crashing through.

Perhaps not everyone is aware that I’ve had a fair amount of anxiety and thought surely I can go to Nigeria and rest. You can only imagine at this point my anxiety level is being tested. I think it is when Danette joined me downstairs (I thought I should eat all the chocolate in the house since morning didn’t look too promising) and decided to tell me a bedtime story that is everything but peaceful.

Now, let me back up a few steps. Before coming, a pastor from Guatemala had three dreams about my parents coming to Nigeria and warns them to have great caution. So, here I am downstairs, waiting for the house to blow apart when Danette tells me shortly before arriving she happened to go to a random church. The speaker prayed for her specifically, not knowing a thing about her, and said that she may end up in prison one day, but that God would always be there. She thinks, “well, I better prepare, because I’m headed to Africa”. So here I am stuck in Nigeria, in a house full of people that have recently been told of possible unpleasant events. Only one thing could distract me from the thought that I have come here to die, and it is the bugs (D calls them rock bugs) I feel crawling in my pants. I am wide-awake wondering if I will live or die, and Danette looks at me laughing or crying, I’m not sure which and says, “welcome to life in Africa”.

Someone once told me to wiggle my toes when I am stressed. But for some reason, wiggling your toes just doesn’t seem to cut it here in Africa.

Well, I took a break from writing and attempted to close my eyes and dream I was anywhere else, but I am wide-awake again. It is not because of the storm, but because of the vigilantes that are having some kind of shoot out in our back yard. Danette reassures me it is only gunshots. The first night she was startled, it was by a bomb. That is so reassuring, now I can go to sleep in peace knowing I wont be blown to pieces by a bomb, only shot.

Danette: So, about that prison thing Amanda’s talking about… I didn’t tell anyone about that because I didn’t want anyone to be worried about me… Well, coming to Africa, I actually thought I would be okay in prison. I mean, maybe I wouldn’t have been okay, but if I ended up there I would know that that was where I was supposed to be for the time…

Well, one day at Xtutulu brought me to the reality that prison wasn’t the place for me, and I was pretty stressed about spending the rest on my life in Nigeria…
Well, a couple of weeks ago it hit me that it wasn’t actually lock-and-key prison, but it was more of a prison with the mind.

I feel like my world has been completely turned upside down! My trip to Africa is nothing like I could have imagined it to be. My summer plans fell through. I mean, I don’t even live anywhere for crying out loud. (How does that even work?) I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. Do I even want to be a missionary anymore? Do I have a passion in life? Heck, do I even like to do anything at all? What makes me smile? …Hahh, going crazy one could say…

I often ask God if He realizes I’ve even come to Africa. “Did You forget about me? Do You know that I’m here? Are You even here with me at all?” And the answer is, yes… GOD IS HERE WITH ME!

I wish I could tell you all that I’m in Africa helping these Nigerians… But I’m not… I’m actually here “filling up”… I’ve been reading the book “Waking the Dead” by John Eldredge for the second time now. He talks about how you can’t just continue to pour or give into peoples lives. How you have to take care of yourself too… And I never really thought about that. I just figured if I wasn’t giving or doing something for someone, God must not be happy with me… But I’m starting to think that that isn’t necessarily true.

John says at one point in the book: Caring for our own heart isn’t selfishness; it’s how we begin to love. Yes, we care for our heart for the sake of others. What will you bring to others if your heart is empty, dried up, pinned down? Love is the point. And you can’t love without your heart and you can’t love well unless your heart is well.
When it comes to the whole subject of loving other, you must know this: how you handle your own heart is how you will handle theirs.

When I was at the xrphanage in Xtutulu and trying to love, it was like trying to give someone a glass of water with nothing in it. I wanted to show love to all the kids, but I didn’t have any left to give…

So here I am in Nigeria, empty. Not the best place to find that out, but Amanda is here with me now and things are starting to look brighter.

When I ask God what he wants me to do. Several times now it has been “Love My People”. So I came to Africa, to suffer and love His people… But He actually didn’t say to me, “Suffer and Love My People”. So why did I come to Africa exactly? He’s people are in America too… And I’m so happy about that. I was thinking about seeing how I like that American life… Amanda and I say everyday now, “I’m an American girl, I’m it's okay to like the American ways”.