Yes: The Word That Will Transform Your Life

My journey through life and faith hit (another) speedbump when I felt the call to go to Sierra Leone, West Africa on a six-week missions trip. Okay, let me back up for a second. When I say “call,” I am referring to the unexplainable urge to do something that I previously had absolutely no desire to do. In this case, to go to Africa.

I never wanted to go on a missions trip, particularly not to Africa. Ever.

I know myself well enough; I know that I am a homebody and I like the comforts of indoor plumbing, regular meals, space for alone time, and being understood in conversation by fellow English speakers. I grew up camping with my family and I heartily disliked it. And yes, I know that going to Africa is nothing like North American camping.

I also know that I was (am?) incredibly arrogant in what I considered “necessities” of life. I recognized my flimsy excuses to not go as just that: paper-thin. When the staff worker at InterVarsity Christian Fellowship asked me if I’d like to join the team, everything within me screamed, No! Unfortunately, the experiences of the previous year (see last week’s blog post) had taught me that God uses the unexpected to fuel tremendous faith and growth. I couldn’t, in good faith, say no. So, I said yes.

It was a season for saying yes.

See, there was another yes that I said that spring - a yes to date a very nice young man I met at an InterVarsity retreat. There too, I felt an inexplicable sense that I ought to say yes, even though everything within me screamed, Get away! Don’t let yourself get hurt again! I most certainly was in no mood to experience the enormous heartbreak I’d had the year before when my previous boyfriend dumped me.

In the summer of 2013, I hopped on a plane with eight other Canadian university students and a packet of letters - one for each day that I was gone - from my brand-new boyfriend.

That trip changed me.

I learned how the Spirit of God was active and moving within the Sierra Leonean people. I saw how the people in the “Land of Smiles” kept smiling while they lived in humble huts or metal-sheet homes. I also saw the empty gazes of mothers who wondered how they might feed their children. I heard the screams of a child who underwent malaria testing. I smelled the refuse upon which the slums of Kroo Bay were built, the stench of unwashed bodies crammed into a hot pickup truck. Most of all, I felt the rhythm of their songs as the church danced and clapped loudly in worship to God (even at four in the morning).

It unnerved me.

The God I knew painted beautiful sunsets and sunrises. He protected his children and provided for his people. The God I knew most certainly didn’t perform miracles in the 21st century. He didn’t speak to his people. He liked it when his people followed his rules. And he blessed the people who were faithful to him, usually with wealth and safety.

This God was different than the one I knew.

This God was wild, free-spirited, and unchecked by human rules. As the people of Sierra Leone danced, I realized that my box of Western Christianity could not contain this God. It was as if I was seeing an entirely different face of God, like a multifaceted die. This God still painted sunrises and sunsets, but did so with wild abandon. This God performed miracles (a story for another time), broke all humanly-imposed expectations, and blessed his faithful people with joy and peace, not health and wealth.

It shook my faith. Who was this God? It turned out that I did not know him as fully as I’d thought after all. The previous year’s heartbreak had taught me that God never changed and was always present to bear my hurt, but it also taught me to protect myself from being hurt again. So, in response, I walled up my heart, hesitant to allow others to see my oh-so-vulnerable self.

In contrast, Sierra Leone taught me to live with arms wide open, to say yes at the cost of being rejected and hurt by others. I was mocked (in jest) by my Sierra Leonean friends as being “too rigid.” They showed me the playful side of God, that God isn’t only to be found in straight-backed pews while “Just As I Am” is being slowly played or around a crackling campfire while teenagers share their testimonies. Ever so slowly, I realized that the real invitation of the trip was to open my heart to be changed by others.

There are many stories to be told from my time in Sierra Leone - too many to tell here. It was the hardest six weeks I have ever experienced. Culture shock is no joke. Halfway through, I wanted nothing more than to run home as fast as I could and dive into my shell of self-protection. Despite my initial efforts otherwise, the hard outer shell I had crafted around myself cracked as I learned to live among a people who smiled widely, laughed loudly, and worshipped freely.

Transformation doesn’t happen without saying yes to God’s invitation.

That yes - not only to the trip itself, but also to being transformed by the people of Sierra Leone - led to another yes: I fell in love with my boyfriend on that trip as I read a letter from him each day, and we got married the following year. I realized that I could not wall myself off from him in self-protection; if I wanted his love and his affection, I had to say yes to opening my heart fully to him.

What “yes” is God asking from you?

Saying yes is terrifying. There is great risk involved and it means surrendering control. In my journey, I have noticed that saying yes when I am terrified usually means that God is up to something very good in my life. I often stand at the crosswalk at which one sign says, “No - The Safe Path,” and the other says, “Yes - Danger Ahead.” I know that if I choose the safe path, I will be comfortable and secure. No scary unknowns ahead. I also know that if I choose the safe path, I’ll never know what great things God has in store for me, and that is something I can’t handle not knowing.

What about you?

In courage and in love,

Katelyn

Book recommendation:

Rhimes, Shonda. Year of Yes: How to Dance it Out, Stand in the Sun and Be Your Own Person. New York, NY: Simon and Schuster Paperbacks, 2015.

I would love to hear your stories of saying yes (or no) to God’s invitations! Leave a comment below or drop your email here to join the community. I will respond directly to you.