"Ask of Me, and I will give you the nations as your inheritance." I've been asking for Africa since I was 15. And while I hope to have left my His mark on the continent I love so much, I know for sure that she’s left a mark on me.
Africa is beautiful, rich, compelling. She won my heart with her beckoning eyes and captivating smiles. Her laughter comes from deep in her soul, her tears from a place even deeper still. And as deep calls to deep, she reaches the most sacred part of my heart.
Like any true love, when I close my eyes, she is as close as my own breath.
With eyes wide shut, I see majesty in the shape of mountains and elephants and elderly women. I hear spontaneous harmonies, heartbreaking mourning over yet another life stolen away, shouts of praise to a God they deem faithful despite their circumstances. I taste the bitterness of grief and the sweetness of community. I smell the blanketing fires of winter and the matchless fragrance of coming rain. I feel the joy of carefree children, the contentment of simple lives well-lived, and the stirring of God sweeping through narrow unnamed village streets.
And when I open my eyes again, she's still right here---standing tall with her hard-earned pride, holding my hand with her tight ebony grip, and looking forward with an unspeakable hope.
Jesus gave His life for my magnificently alluring Africa.
She is so worth me doing the same.