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Mission Testimony
Author: Jenelle Orso
My life has been dramatically changed by a world that has stolen and broken my heart completely. Never have I felt so helpless, hopeless for a people so beautiful, so suppressed. I reached, I grabbed, I held, and painfully let go.
The first day we arrived in Africa , I could not breathe the smell in deep enough, fast enough. Nor the taste of the scenery, the feel of the moisture in the air. My eyes could not grasp things quick enough. My jaw to the floor, I inhaled my newly discovered romance. We entered Kyfumbira slums, swarmed by gorgeous children, squeezing our fingertips for love. I was swept away by their culture, their warmth, their smiles. I will never forget their smiles. Tackled at full speed, I was hit by wave after wave of poverty and hardship. And in the middle of a hopeless mess, I opened my heart, closed my eyes, and did my best to believe that God’s Love saves all, even in the worst situations. Testing my faith against all my eyes took in. Malnourished children, yellow eyes, broken homes, sick babies, no food, no water, no shoes, barely clothed. Slums. I broke. I glued myself back together with their dirty fingers clutching mine. I break again.I glue. I break. I smile.No matter what I gave, I wanted to give more. I felt as though I could never run out of things to share, to give to them, but it was never enough. I couldn’t repair the trauma that structured their lives. I couldn’t hold the babies tight enough. I couldn’t make the kids laugh enough. I couldn’t exert enough energy to close the gap between superficial, clockwork, Americanized lives, and the stress-free depression that these people are caged in. They know nothing different. But I feel as though we know nothing at all. I chase dreams that break my heart and cause flutters in my faith, testing me emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, verbally. They accept me as I am. I am told I have changed their lives, but I will always and forever be changed wholly, and strictly by the window they have given me to look through. I realize how broken our nation is, and how happy their third-world is.
Flying home was hard. Nearly eleven hours of flight to reflect and remember the faces that I might never see again. I swear every mile between me and these people made a tick mark on my heart, voting on how soon, and how set I am on going back.
Here at home, I don’t know what to do with myself. Nothing seems real. Or perhaps too real for me to grasp fully.No matter what continent you are on, you see how broken our world is. How disconnected we are from one another, and how hidden God is, even in seemingly bright places. I search desperately for Gods people, and I’ve found a great sum of them. But to keep our heads above water is a different battle completely. The spiritual realm is becoming more and more real as our generation grows, or perhaps, decreases. The more I learn, the more uneducated I feel. My prayer list grows larger and larger, and I hardly feel equipped for this world. Nevertheless, I clinch my fists, and go face first into it.
Jeremiah 1:8-10
“Do not be afraid of them, For I am with you to deliver you,” declares the LORD. Then the LORD stretched out His hand and touched my mouth, and the LORD said to me,
“Behold, I have put My words in your mouth. See, I have appointed you this day over the nations and over the kingdoms, To pluck up and to break down, To destroy and to overthrow, To build and to plant.”
