Water and A Wrecking Ball

 As I traveled to the women's meeting, I turned the radio on and listened to the song, "Voice of Truth" by Casting Crowns. I cried out to the Lord asking Him to show these women that He IS the Voice of Truth. I continued praying that these women would see Jesus in me and that I really do love them. My plea was that they would see that I am more than just a white missionary from America, but a wife, mother, daughter, and child of the King. For 4 years now, I have been trying to show them love and help them but there always seemed to be disconnect and a huge wall staring me in the face. I begged the Lord for this wall to come down, some way, any way!
After lunch, one of the leaders announced that it was time to get water from the well. Usually at this time women will stand up and get a 20 liter yellow jug and begin the trek to the well. This time, no one stood up. Their faces were gloomy and sad for some reason. I put my Bible and notebook down on the reed mat, stood up and said, "Tiyeni! Nizayenda ndi inu!" (Come along, I will go with you!) Amai Masiye looked at me and said, "Amai Joy...borehole...PATALI!" (Mrs. Joy...the well....is FAR!) I replied, "Chabwino, tiyeni!" (Okay, let's go!) Then Amai Lungu looked at me and said,"Amai...patali, ndithu!" (Mrs....far, really.) By this time, I was convinced that the borehole was patali (far). For a Zambian to say that something is far is rare, so when they do, it is truth and to a westerner, we would never dream of traveling that far on foot! (sad but true) I stopped, looked at the truck and said, "we will go with the truck!" They were so happy! So here we go, 8 women, a 50 gallon drum, and 12- 20 liter jugs on the way to the borehole.

We arrived and I was thinking..."wow, they were right this is far!" (Not to mention that it was downhill going and uphill all the way back.) We arrived and walked about 400 meters through a village to the borehole. They began drawing water and when the jugs were full we all started to get the jugs to take them to fill the 50 gallon drum inside our truck. (I wish that I had taken my camera). I bent down and began to pick up one of the jugs when Amai Masiye said,"Amai JOOOOOYYYYY...Iyai (no!)" I said, "Iyai, ningatenge! Ndithu!) (No, I can take, really!) They handed me a small bucket and I resisted. I then took off my chitenge (fabric wrap over my skirt) and made it into a coil to put on my head to carry the jug. By this time they were laughing and making the sounds that they make that mean words but are basic utterances only. I took the 20 liter jug and put it on my head and began to walk. Along the way, I started singing a song that we all love to sing. They joined with me and it was a time that I will never forget! We filled the drum and went back a second time. In that moment as the water spilled down my face as I carried that jug, I felt a wall crumbling all around me. I think that they knew then that I love them. I am not just a missionary living in Zambia and taking up space but I love to learn from them and experience things that they do everyday.
On Sunday, we traveled that same road to church. When we reached the borehole I asked Kendall to see how far it was from the borehole to the church. It was 1.8 kilometers one way. It was PATALI! (pah-tah-lee)
I am so thankful that the Lord allowed me this opportunity to show these women how much I love them and more importantly how much the Lord loves them!