Zambia
A mission trip that I will never forget.
In 2015, the church we attended announced a mission trip to Zambia. It was something my wife and I had always dreamed of doing, so when the opportunity came, we signed up without hesitation. A few weeks later, we received wonderful news, my wife was pregnant with our son.
This joyful news changed our plans. Given the nature of the trip, deep in the African bush, hours from the nearest hospital, with mosquitoes and harsh camping conditions we decided it would be best for her to stay home while I went. It was a hard choice because I had wanted to experience the mission together, but I trusted that one day we’d have the chance.
I pray God will provide that opportunity again.
I hope this project captures the warmth and humility of the people we met, their beautiful smiles, and their deep hunger for the Gospel, all of which left a lasting impact on me.
Our last Sunday was spent worshipping at one of the villagers’ homes. They had raked the sand in preparation, and we gathered under a large tree, feeling the cool morning breeze. Villagers from neighbouring areas, some of whom had walked for hours, joined us. There were no elaborate buildings or pews, just a group of believers gathered to worship.
The service was raw and authentic, with heartfelt singing and a powerful message delivered by one of the missionaries, translated into Lozi. Afterward, we took prayer requests and prayed for one another. The faith of the people and the simplicity of their requests humbled me deeply.
After the service, we packed up and said our goodbyes to the people of Ituku. We loaded back onto the bush truck and returned to Mongu for a final night before heading to Livingstone.
That evening, we reflected on all that had happened, the ways God had worked through us and how His Word had touched hearts, including our own.
A few nights after I returned home from Zambia, I had a dream. I was back in the bush, feeling the heat and smelling the dust. Suddenly, a large black dog, as tall as two men, approached me. It lay down on top of me, its weight making it difficult to breathe. I tried to escape but couldn’t. Just as I began to feel trapped, two feet appeared, and the dog lifted off me. I was free.
I don’t often think much about dreams, but this one stuck with me. Perhaps it was a reflection of how this trip had impacted me, transforming my heart in ways I hadn’t expected.
This excerpt is from my short story, Back to Basics. If you're curious about my journey to Zambia and how it profoundly shaped my life, you can find a copy here.