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Africa: Adventures of a White Middle Class Housewife, Part 1

Lisa Black’s journey through Africa; a series

The plane began its decent. Africa was all around me. Over 24 hours of travel to get here was nothing but a whisper in time. My journey started 36 years prior. My heart neither quickened nor slowed. There was only peace, as if I was pulling up to the three car garage of my contemporary American home.  It felt like every other day, yet with the very clear knowledge that God had used every tragedy and joy in my life to bring me to this moment.

I am not thinking of orphans or the preaching or teaching we will do here.  I am not thinking of my furniture and how I will get it over the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean. I am not even thinking of the next generation of warriors that we are called to train, love, and even die for.  No, honestly, all of my thoughts are with our children, Tyler, Alexis, Michael, Emily, Caleb and Noah Black. I can see each of their faces in my mind, and I long to kiss their cheeks. I am thinking of their future spouses and our “one day” grandchildren. I am thinking of standing before my flawless Savior with light extending to me through His nail scarred hands and feet. I am seeing the beauty and the glory of Him, and the moment when he asks me the question I live my life for. He will say, “I entrusted you with six children, how did you steward them?” My answer that day will be all about how I live this afternoon.  

My husband is the most amazing father, preacher, leader, prophet that I have ever known. He is humble, broken and strong. Being his wife is no small calling, mothering his children is even more intense. Yes, we are called to orphans, widows, the defenceless and the innocent. It is a direct commandment from the King. I stand in fear and trembling, as we all should. I realize now more than ever that to mother our children as God has called me to is the beginning of changing the world.