Twenty-two years ago today was a very special day for me. It was the day my daughter, Meagan, was born. I have watched her grow up and mature and most importantly witnessed her fall in love with God and be a committed Christ-follower. In just a few short weeks she will graduate from college, Lee University, and start another life adventure. I am quite confident that no matter where the adventure leads her it will be directed by the One she follows.
Last summer Meagan served on the staff of MFuge, a student camp emphasizing missions in Tigerville South Carolina. This summer she will once again work for MFuge but this time in the city of New Orleans. In preparation for this summer of ministry Meagan went to South Africa to to minister and learn more about how the gospel is being spread in that country. Below is a journal entry from Meagan about one day on this South Africa trip.
I am very proud of Meagan. I hope you will continue on and read the account of one of her days in South Africa.
Meagan Smith
Journal entries from South Africa
Sunday:
Sunday morning we went to two church services, one in Snake Park and the other in Lahae. The services were so raw. Both met in school classrooms. There were no instruments, no microphones, and definitely no order of service. The entire service was a free flow of worship led by the Spirit, and it was beautiful.
I found myself getting overwhelmed with the greatness of God. Here I am in a service full of South Africans singing worship songs, reading scripture, and praying in three different languages. What a mighty God we serve. I think some of my favorite time was prayer, in both services. When the person leading said it was time to pray everyone began praying at once, out loud. There was not a moment of hesitation. The Spirit was clearly moving and everyone could feel the presence of the Lord. What a big God we serve- I kept thinking. How privileged we are to be able to pray to a God who hears our request, in every language, and shows genuine care and love in return.
Sometimes it is the smallest of moments that the Lord uses to get my attention. While in the first service I sat by two little girls, 11 and 12 years old, who were slightly stand-offish at first but as the service progressed they were practically sitting on my lap. At one point I put my arm around one of them; and she immediately grabbed my hand. The two of them began to whisper and giggle and they just kept starring at my hand. For the next 15-20 minutes the girls stroked my hand, ran their fingers over my fingers, repeatedly counted my knuckles, and felt my fingernails. My little white hand was fascinating to them, and I couldn’t help but smile the whole time. The girls helped me follow along in scripture as it was read in their language. They marked in my bible to help me “remember” the verses, and they whispered in my ear while we sang so help me understand the lyrics.
Oh how sweet the mercies of Jesus are. How blessed am I to be a carrier of the name of Jesus. As I sit here and remember these sweet moments I find myself praying for these girls. That the pony tail holder of mine that now sits on her wrist will not just be a reminder to her of some white girl from the states, but that when she remembers me, and my little white hand that she may remember Christ and His plan for her life. That she may remember that both of us were made in His image, and that she may grasp how truly amazing that is.
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You can find out more about Fuge Camps at this link.