His hands and feet

“I had a breaking moment with (the thought of) ‘I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be a missionary. I want to go home.’”

Sitting across the table, Jess Berry readjusted the black rectangular glasses that framed her ocean blue eyes. Her blonde hair, swept up in a bun, sat at the back of her head with stray pieces falling gracefully around her face. Her scarf hung in loose folds around her neck, gently brushing against the sweater she styled.

“I had never expected to feel any of that,” Jess said as she remembered how she felt the first few days of her two month internship in Africa. “The Lord softened my heart eventually and broke me of all of that. I realized that I can’t love these people on my own. I love them and share Christ with them because that’s what God calls me to do.”

Recounting the two months she lived in Africa was not a difficult task for Jess as memories flooded forth and filled the space around her. Her passion became evident through her unfolding of memories as places came to life and the people she grew to know and love took shape before her. A precious African baby suffering from HIV came to life, his tiny body enveloped in a little blanket, fighting for his life. A grown man also came to life, sobbing from the heartache that accompanies the death of a child.  

Jess described how her love and desire for missions originated at the age of 17 after stumbling upon a YouTube video depicting starving children. This was the first time she realized how poverty was affecting millions of children around the world.

“I would just watch YouTube videos over and over and just cry,” Jess said. “I feel like the Lord began to develop a passion in me to help, to do something about it.”

The chance to live out her dream came the summer of 2011 with an internship opportunity in Mozambique, Africa. When she listened to a health student speak in one of her classes at Liberty of his experiences in Mozambique as an intern helping the sick, Jess said she knew that this was the opportunity she had been waiting for.

“I (wanted) to go see for myself what (poverty) was and what my part was in all of it…I knew for me it was going to be figuring out for long-term where I fit into this. I know this is the heart of the Lord to help these people, to love these people, to love the poor. I know the Bible says that and I know this is my passion, but I don’t know where I fit into all of that. And so that was a huge part of going to Africa.” 

Preparing for this venture came in different forms through mental, physical and spiritual growth. The smile faded from Jess’s lips as she described how she knew that she was about to face destitution in both physical and spiritual forces that would challenge her beyond anything she had experienced.            

“I had dealt with the problem of evil and…unnecessary suffering theologically in my mind. I’ve been through those classes. I know all the answers when people ask ‘Why do bad things happen to good people?’ I know the answers to that, but when I went there and saw it for myself…a lot of the generic theology I had developed was shattered when I was actually confronted with evil and suffering. I feel like I had to wrestle with the Lord on that.” 

This unnecessary suffering came in the form of Joao, an 8-month-old with HIV who suffered the fate that millions have suffered before him. Describing this infant with a soft look in her eyes, Jess smiled at the memory of holding Joao for the first time.    

“He was wrapped in a little blanket and he was so tiny and I thought ‘He has to be a newborn, he has to have just been born…’ I started to realize his face was really sunken in and I realized his breaths were really shallow and I (knew) there was something really off about the baby. I pretty much knew…that he was going to die.”  

Coming back week after week for treatment at the Tessa Grace Nutrition Center where Jess worked, Jess formed a special bond with Joao as she prayed over him and held him in her arms. With the help of translators, Jess held conversations with Joao’s father. She learned that Joao’s mother died giving birth and his father also had HIV.

“The whole situation broke my heart,” Jess said with a heavy sigh. “When Joao was getting bad I went and saw him in the hospital. It was just terrible. It was just a few days later that…one of the other missionaries came and told me that Joao had died.”

Jess described Joao’s funeral as horrible. His father held back no emotions as he wailed in the streets for his son. People followed the car carrying the casket down the street, paying their respects for the baby that was no longer suffering. Jess struggled with the fact that millions of babies die this way every day. She described that she wrestled with the Lord, asking Him why He let this happen. 

“He revealed to me that He brought missionaries here for a purpose,” Jess said. “He’s bringing people here to help Him. This is His heart and He chooses to work through us even though He doesn’t need us…I was reminded of the calling of ‘I brought you here to see this so that you might do something. So that you might be my hands and feet because I choose to use people.’” 

Daniel McDonald, also an intern on this trip to Africa, noticed how Jess was moved to help people in need, both physically and spiritually. As he recounted his memories from Africa, Daniel’s eyes lit up with passion. His hands talked with his words as he leaned forward for emphasis. Occasionally he rubbed his hand across the beard that shadowed his face, digging deeper into each memory. He recalled how he watched as Jess learned how God reveals His sovereignty to His faithful servants.     

“You see this poverty…and you see that one person can’t change all of this,” Daniel said. “It was really tough for her to perceive that one person can’t do all of that. She was stretched to pray for those people and to trust that the Lord’s in control and that she can’t heal all of them. There are people that are sick and that are going to die. I remember she talked about God’s sovereignty and that was a major part of her time there.”

Struggling with the sight of suffering and death, Jess had to soften her heart and allow God to show her that the poor are part of His purpose. She experienced multiple situations where she saw how God calls His people to minister to those in need.

“There are hospitals there where the natives are basically on their death beds,” Daniel described, his eyes widening and growing serious. “We went and fed them soup. (Jess) was shocked from this picture of people on their death beds…they’re lying there and you can see their bones sticking out. She was challenged and grown to the point of (knowing) that there are so many people in need, not just physical need, but in need of the gospel. I think that was something that really grabbed a hold of her.”

Upon returning to the U.S., Jess realized how much Americans hoard their material belongings. She became filled with the desire to give and began the process of creating a fundraiser called “Joao Bags.” Her words picked up speed and her hands began to speak along with her words as she described this fundraiser. She hopes to raise funds and purchase fabric for the women in Africa to create bags to sell in the U.S. in order to raise money for the Tessa Grace Nutrition Center.

“This is what I want to pour my life into,” Jess said. “(I want to) bring funds to the nutrition center and expand it.”    

Jess did not expect to struggle with feelings of selfishness or questions asking why God would let a precious little boy die. She did not expect that within the first few days of being in Africa she would have the desire of returning home. But Jess watched as God revealed Himself to her in different ways and grew to accept that God exposes people to hardships for a reason. Because Jess softened her heart and listened when God spoke to her, she is now able to share her experience with others and do what she can to help spread the blessings that she has received to those that are in need.

Teachings from a toddler

A few weeks ago, one of my sisters and I babysat a 2-year-old girl. Her mom had gone to a doctor’s appointment, and we were left with the talkative, high-energy little blonde. She knows me and my sister, so when her mom gave her a kiss and headed out the door, Lydia kept right on playing with her plastic stove, sticking plastic grapes into the plastic oven and then presenting them to each of us as if she just created the chef’s special.

After lunch, her energy kicked into high gear, and she began to run back and forth between the kitchen and the living room. She just kept on running back and forth, back and forth, laughing the entire time and squealing whenever my sister or I caught her. I do not understand how little kids can do this without stopping to take a breath.

The game continued for about 10 minutes before something unexpected happened. As she was running from the living room to the kitchen, we heard the patter of her feet come to a dead stop right before she burst into tears. As my sister and I rushed to her side to figure out what caused this sudden turmoil, we heard through sobs one word: Mommy.

I was confused as to why she chose that particular moment to process the idea that her mom was not in the house with her. Why she realized this more than an hour after her mom left is still a mystery to me. The point is, that was the moment she decided to feel unsafe without her mom. She did not like the fact that her mom was nowhere to be seen, and she was left with two girls that could never take the place of her mommy.

Thinking back on this later, I realized how I can do the same thing with God at times. I can become high off of energy, running around and not paying attention to anything but myself. I focus on the things I need to accomplish, and I make my own plans for how to accomplish them.

But it is in those moments that I realize how badly I need God. I realize that I cannot keep up at this pace without him. That I cannot do anything without him. When I don’t hear his voice right away, I panic or feel frustrated at his silence. I never think about the fact that he might be teaching me something in his silence. I never think about the fact that he has put people in my life to guide me through these times of silence.

True, God never leaves us, but he can answer us with silence at times. I know from personal experience how exasperating it can be to cry out to God only to realize that I have to wait before he answers my plea. But he never leaves me alone.

Once we learn to trust God in his silence, it is much more rewarding when he breaks that silence with the fulfillment of his promise that he never leaves us nor forsakes us. The moment Lydia heard the front door opening, her face lit up and she ran to greet her mom. Her chubby cheeks now held a smile instead of tears, which were long forgotten.

When God speaks to me after a period of silence, I pray that I will not throw accusations at him for appearing to leave me alone. I pray that I will run into his open arms with joy and thanksgiving, knowing that he never leaves me nor forsakes me.       

Matthew 11:28-30

Do you feel as if you're treading water and barely able to keep your head above the waves? This verse might be just the life vest you need!

Matthew 11:28-30 ~ "Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."

What a relief! Sometimes it seems as if every single day there are multiple burdens that are added to my already shaking shoulders. But Jesus promises to give us rest. There are days when I just don't believe that his yoke is easy, and I attempt to carry my own burdens in my own way. But coming to Christ with my burdens is like grabbing onto the side of a raft after treading water for too long. The relief that pours through my muscles is glorious. My reasons for trying to struggle on my own sink beneath the waves as I cling to Christ, my stronghold.