Before traveling to Congo, Bobby and I had talked about how much we wanted to attend a church service while we were there. It was one of the experiences I had hoped and prayed for, but honestly, I didn't think it would be possible. We had been warned about venturing out on our own, and despite trying to connect with people living in Congo before our trip, I hadn't been able to make any arrangements.
But God had something special in store for us!
On our final flight to Congo, while walking down the jet bridge to board the plane, we had met a sweet woman who approached us and asked why we were traveling to the DRC. Apparently, we stood out just a little! ;) As we talked, we learned that she and her family were missionaries in Congo and attended the International Protestant Church of Kinshasa. She gave us her phone number and encouraged us to call if we wanted to attend church on Sunday.
What an incredible answer to prayer!
So when Sunday morning finally arrived, we were absolutely GIDDY! First, we were excited to get out of the hotel again, and second, we were FINALLY going to experience a church service in Congo!
After enjoying our last breakfast buffet, we eagerly waited in the lobby until David and Sandy arrived. Climbing into their van brought an immediate sense of relief, comfort, and excitement. Other than our travel companion, A, this was the first time since arriving that we'd been able to spend time with other Americans who spoke our language fluently and knew so much about Congo.
Needless to say, we didn't stop talking! We peppered them with questions about their missionary work, their experiences living in Congo, and what it was like raising children in the DRC. There was so much we wanted to know about the country that had become such an important part of our family's story.
Walking through the doors of the church, we were immediately struck by the incredible sense of community. We were thousands of miles from home, yet there was something so familiar and comforting about gathering with other believers to worship the Lord.
We found seats near the back of the church and quickly met several people. The International Protestant Church of Kinshasa is an English-speaking congregation, so we were able to participate in the service and connect with the people around us. When we first arrived, there were only a handful of people in the building, but just before the service began, the floodgates opened! Suddenly, the church was packed with people from all over the world, gathered together for one purpose: to worship the Lord.
I cannot even begin to describe how much I enjoyed that morning. As we stood singing praises to Him, surrounded by people from so many different places and backgrounds, I found myself almost giddy with joy. What a beautiful picture of the body of Christ!
But if there is one thing I will never forget about that service, it was the prayer.
At one point, a woman stood to pray in her native language. She prayed for what must have been at least ten minutes, and although we couldn't understand a single word she was saying, it was an incredibly moving experience. Her heartfelt prayer was a powerful reminder that the Lord understands every language and hears the prayers of His people, no matter where they live or what words they speak.
Even though her words were unfamiliar to our English-speaking ears, we were deeply encouraged by the faith and devotion expressed through her prayer. It was one of those moments that I knew would stay with me long after we returned home.
Another thing that struck me was what happened AFTER the service.
At home, it's so easy to finish church, gather our things, say a quick goodbye, and head out the door. But that morning in Kinshasa, people stayed outside for quite some time, enjoying conversations and fellowship with one another. Children were laughing and playing, mothers were visiting, and fathers were gathered in conversation.
The sense of love and community was beautiful. No one seemed to be in a hurry to leave, and I loved watching everyone simply enjoy being together.
As we left the church, David and Sandy invited us to join them for lunch. This would be our one and only meal outside the hotel during our entire stay in Congo, so we were more than happy to accept!
We headed to a small restaurant that was absolutely BOOMING with people. David and Sandy helped us navigate the menu, and we decided to trust their recommendations. We ended up ordering some sort of pita-style wrap filled with chicken, vegetables, and a delicious sauce. And, of course, we had to have Fanta!
We had seen people drinking Fanta everywhere throughout the week, and David explained that it was a special treat in Congo and one of the most popular soft drinks. Naturally, we had to experience it for ourselves!
But as much as we enjoyed our lunch, the greatest gift was having the opportunity to sit face-to-face with people who could answer so many of our questions about Addy's birth country. We spent much of our time picking their brains, asking question after question, and learning as much as we could about the country and its people.
It was an incredibly valuable afternoon, and I was so thankful that God had placed David and Sandy in our path before we had even arrived in Congo.
When we returned to the hotel, our hearts were heavy. We had been so deeply affected by everything we'd seen and experienced throughout the week, and knowing that our time in Congo was coming to an end brought a flood of emotions.
We were hurting as we thought about the tremendous needs facing the country. Hurting as we remembered the poverty we had witnessed every time we stepped outside the hotel doors or simply looked through the windows. And hurting as we thought about the incredible beauty of Congo and its people, knowing we would soon be leaving and taking our sweet Addy with us.
Our hearts had been changed in ways I never could have anticipated. How were we supposed to return to our comfortable lives, surrounded by so much excess, after everything we had witnessed during the past week?
I didn't have the answers. I only knew that I would never look at certain things quite the same way again.
But whether we were ready or not, our time in Congo was coming to an end. Shortly after we returned from lunch, our agency's driver arrived to take our large suitcases to the airport for check-in. Suddenly, our little hotel room felt strangely empty. We were left with just two small bags that would accompany us on our thirty-hour journey home.
We enjoyed one final dinner with A and Josee, torn between our excitement about returning home to Eli, Ayla, and Owen and the sadness of saying goodbye to the people who had become such an important part of our week.
It seemed as though every goodbye brought another painful little sting. First, we had said goodbye to the children and nannies at the transition house. Now we were saying goodbye to A and Josee, as well as the hotel staff who had become our friends. And soon, we would be boarding a plane and saying goodbye to the country that had touched us so deeply.
I wasn't prepared for how emotional leaving Congo would be.
And I certainly wasn't prepared for what would happen next!
The following few hours were, without a doubt, some of the CRAZIEST hours of my life.
Our adventure began with one final drive down the chaotic streets of Kinshasa. Once again, we bounced along the roads, dodging people, cars, animals, and, of course, those enormous POTHOLES!
But this drive felt completely different from the one we'd taken just six days earlier.
I don't think we spoke more than two words during the entire hour-long trip to the airport. We were speechless, emotional, and overwhelmed by everything we had experienced. We sat quietly, praying and trying to process the reality that our time in Congo was truly coming to an end.
It was almost a perfect reflection of our first drive through those very same streets, only this time we had our daughter in our arms. After all the months of waiting, our hearts were overflowing with joy. Yet we were also leaving with a deep sense of sadness and an awareness of how much this country had changed us.
And then we arrived at the airport.
Oh. My. GOODNESS.
I don't think I could adequately describe the next two hours even if I tried!
The chaos began with Bobby nearly getting arrested for WALKING ON THE GRASS. Yes, you read that correctly! And from there, things only became more overwhelming.
There was yelling, confusion, intimidation, and what seemed like endless crowds of people. We were pulled in one direction and then another, questioned, stared at, and left wondering what on earth was going to happen next.
It was one of the most frightening and stressful experiences of our entire trip. By the time we finally made it through the airport, I was shaking and completely exhausted.
Yet somehow, in the middle of all that chaos, the time passed surprisingly quickly. Before we knew it, we were finally settling into our seats on the plane that would take us from Kinshasa to Belgium.
We had made it.
Our sweet Addy was with us.
And as we prepared to leave the country that had given us so much, our eyes filled with tears once again.
Congo would forever hold a very special place in our hearts, and we knew that the experiences of this week would stay with us for the rest of our lives.
What an incredible, overwhelming, beautiful, and unforgettable journey.
No comments:
Post a Comment