As we hit the five-year mark since Covid, I am sharing my story. It's powerful to reflect and emember.
March, 2020
It was supposed to be a magical day, exploring Victoria Falls, one of the world's seven natural wonders. Our trip to Zambia promised to include this bucket list adventure, and our team couldn't wait to be amazed by God's powerful creation.
When I initially planned my trip to Zambia, my mom smiled sweetly and said my grandmother, MaCile, had always dreamed of seeing Victoria Falls. I never knew that. MaCile and my Papa Phillips planned to take each of their grandchildren on a memorable trip to imbed in us a love of travel. When he died unexpectedly at 55, that dream had to be tweaked. She took the first of my cousins on trips, but her health had declined by the time it was my turn, and it didn't happen as she had hoped. She passed away when I was nineteen years old.
Despite missing that trip, my love for travel is solid. When we planned this adventure to Zambia, one of the things I packed was Macile's picture. Bringing her to the falls with all 7 of her grandchildren was poetic—my treat.
Only, it was nothing like any of us dreamed it would be. With the coronavirus quickly spreading worldwide, borders across Africa started closing by the hour. It was time to shift our plans and get home. Information was changing by the hour. We booked multiple flights home, only to be notified that Americans were not allowed on flights that touched down for a layover in most African countries.
Our internet was unreliable; we were bombarded with panic texts from home, and real-time info did not match what our friends and family could see on their end. Ultimately, our best hope involved crossing the border into Zimbabwe and hoping to catch any plane that would carry us back to the States. The only bonus is that Victoria Falls can be seen between Zambia and Zimbabwe.
We waited for our visas to be approved at the border for so long that it became apparent that our only chance to see Victoria Falls would be when we drove across the bridge between the two countries. We would have to try and snap the best pictures we could from the window of our taxi, unable even to slow down.
A zebra and some monkeys were in the parking lot when we arrived at an eerily empty airport. The lone worker slid a piece of paper across the counter: our names were each written in pencil with a big "X" slashed across.
As the reality of our situation (and dwindling finances) fully hit us, we chose to walk across the bridge back to Zambia, dragging our suitcases through the uneven roads. We stopped for just a moment to marvel at the falls.
It was a moment of magnificent peace, sandwiched between the chaos of the unknown. I just stood a moment, watching the water crash, knowing the Savior I follow would calm me. He would make my path straight. He would show us what He was doing when our eyes couldn't see. As each door closed, I needed to pull away from the frantic. What is He doing with us? What bigger purpose could this lead to? His way are not our ways. But when things are this terrifying...how much do I trust Him?
As I snapped a picture of the falls holding a photo of the grandmother I loved more than life, it hit me that, much like MaCile and Papa Phillips, the future wasn't looking anything like what I had planned. But in that moment, I had peace. As I took MaCile's picture on our granddaughter's trip, it hit me that the path may be weird, but my destination is secure. That is the faith I claim when things are good. It's the faith I would cling to when it's scary.
Wild baboons kept coming up to us while we waited for our turn to cross the border. At one point, an extra sneaky baboon dug through a woman's bag and stole her cabbage. She ripped off her shoe and threw it at the offender. It was hilarious and broke the tension. Pranks on a trip with MaCile (who was the biggest prankster of all) felt perfect.
Here is what I wrote in my journal:
"Each phase of this trip has been unexpected and constantly shifting. We have seen tender new growth from our time, encouraging local leaders to be passionate disciple-makers in their churches and lives.
We have been heartbroken over deeper poverty than any of us have experienced before. We have watched the world fall apart from a country that doesn't have the luxury to worry. We have felt the impact of realizing we have to leave. We have chased plans and then shifted time and time again. We have felt the hope of a flight and the discouragement of cancelations.
We are still feeling the shock of being told by a congressman to prepare to shelter in place and have a plan to live here for 4 months. We have faced the reality of figuring out what that would look like. We are still evolving. Even tonight, new flight options appear to be on the table.
Seeing our people stop everything and ask each other to petition the Maker of the Universe to move and shine is the most beautiful thing. For us. How amazing is that? I cannot wait for our light and momentary troubles to be transformed into an opportunity to reflect the God who sees. The God who loves. The God who rescues. The God who leaves us where we don't expect to be as His hands and His feet. Who knows at this point? But I know: He is writing a story that will give us the honor of showing a scared world how faithful and loving Jesus is."
Thankfully, I am on the other side of this situation and home safe and sound. I have seen God show Himself as the Way Maker so many times this year. Miraculously opening our way home was just one of them!