First(s) and Last(s)

"What will you miss most?"

 It's a question my country coordinator asked me during my interview for a placement in Rwanda. Of course, I responded with a flippant "Tex-Mex and Clemson football" (both totally true), but over the past few weeks and months I have discovered that saying goodbye to home involves a lot more missing than I thought, it involves a lot of ‘lasts’. For me, this has included but not been limited to the last time I:

         Hugged my family

         Watched a Montana sunset

         Worshiped with my home congregation

         Went fishing with my brother

         Ate sushi

         Watched a college football game that I didn’t have to wake up at 1:30 am to catch

         Played music with my sister

The list goes on. I spent weeks leading up to my departure for Rwanda mourning the loss of these things that I was doing for the ‘last time’, struggling with the idea of living without them even just for a year (yes, Clemson football matters THAT much).

I started pondering (shocking, I know) this idea of lasts and goodbyes during my first few weeks in Rwanda. As I did, a bible verse I have known most of my life found its way onto my heart. It is a story from the book of Matthew, chapter 19 in which Jesus is talking to a young man about what it takes to inherit the Kingdom of Heaven. At the end of the story, after he has told the young man what he must do, Jesus tells him:

“Everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or fields for my sake will inherit eternal life. So the last will be first and the first will be last.” 

Matt 19:29-30

Now, when I was younger, I was under the impression that the story was just about money and rich people and needles and camels, but sitting under my mosquito net on my bed in my new Rwandan home, it occurs to me that it could mean more.

Today I see a call in this passage; we have to leave. To live life abundantly, we have to be willing to abandon whatever is most familiar and open ourselves up to the possibility of a world that is so deliciously diverse we could wade through the differences for an eternity. As I said in my blog when I arrived in Rwanda (shameless self plug), we are called to constantly walk through new doors. So now, I want to share with you now what I have found on my journey of stepping through those doors so far.

I have discovered this: When we leave what is comfortable for the sake of love we bring pieces of the Kingdom to us here and now, and Jesus tells us that the Kingdom we bring is like this: a place where last(s) will be first(s). And first(s) will be last(s). And so on and so forth forever.

All of the lasts listed above were difficult and painful because of the love I have for those people and places, but the pain of lasts has been accompanied by the joy of firsts in Rwanda, like the first time I:

         Devoured a fresh passion fruit embarrassingly quickly

         Was awed by the splendor of LITERALLY a thousand hills

         Drank African coffee (coffee/milk/ginger/chocolate/heaven)

         Saw someone’s face light up because I [poorly] attempted to speak Kinyarwanda

         Helped make my country coordinator laugh until she cried

         Learned a song in Kinyarwanda from my friend, Ngabire

         Left the doors open all day to feel the breeze (not possible in Texas, friends)

         Attended an international soccer game with friends from 3 countries

         Made pesto by hand

         Was greeted with “Karibu”, “You are most welcome”

Proof positive that I made pesto. 

These hills.

                                   

At the national museum, the sign is written  in Kinwarywanda,
but most people say 'Karibu" which is 'Welcome" in Kiswahili!

And today, another massive first: my first day in my new home in Rwamagana. It was the first time I saw the school where I’ll work. It was the first (though certainly not the last) time I had a group of students laugh at me for trying to dance. It was the first time I met the faces that comprise the community I will work to become a part of this year. It was the first time I walked through town, the first time I ate goat brochettes, and the first time I was shocked into silence by the beauty of a star-filled rural Rwandan sky. These firsts were accompanied by a last: my last day of in-country orientation with my fellow Rwanda YAGM, whom I love dearly. 

But that's just it! That is the promise of our God - if we push ourselves through new doors, the last(s) will be first(s), and those firsts will become new ‘lasts’ we love almost too much to leave.

Yeah, These fools were hard to leave. Love them to pieces. 

 My hope for myself, for you, and for the kingdom, then, is this short blessing I wrote upon reflection on my first month here:

May you let go of lasts with peace in goodbyes,

May you always find firsts with wonder-filled eyes.

And whenever the chance is presented to you,

May you suck all the sweetness from life’s passion fruit.


Love, Sav