How Africa Ruined My Life, In a Beautiful Way

I’ve been hesitant to post on here, because I didn’t want anyone at work to know about my covert job search. But last week, the proverbial cat was let out of the bag anyway, so now I am much more comfortable posting on this blog without concern that someone might stumble upon it. I’m not making a grand announcement to everyone “Hey, I quit my job last week” but they’ll all figure it out soon enough.

The short version of my life is that I grew up poor (not destitute, but in a lower income single mother household) and the value of education and money were instilled in me as a child. I grew up and knew that I needed to go to college in order to make a better life for myself, which I did. I also knew that I needed to be responsible with finances in order to have options. I’ve never desired to be rich in a materialistic sense, but I fully recognize that I am in the top 1% of the world’s wealth by virtue of my education, profession, and the country in which I live.

I came to know God in 2004, and it changed my life in big and small ways. In 2006, I led a mission trip down to indigenous people in the rainforests of Argentina. It was the worst poverty I had (and frankly, have) ever seen. I was talking to Yvan last week about our first trip, and with no prepping I asked him what the single image is from our first trip to Argentina that he can’t get out of his mind’s eye, and he accurately described the exact image that I was picturing when I asked the question: the young boy on the side of the road with the distended belly and unbearable malnourishment. I returned to the materialism of Orange County with anger, guilt, and an understanding that God was calling me to do something. That was definitely the start, but it has been a slow process.

In 2007, God called me (on very short notice) to Kenya. I had felt a pull to Sub-Saharan Africa in 2006, but the team I was leading pretty much told me that if I was leading to Africa, I was leading no one. Looking back, I know Argentina was the right move and God has blessed that decision many times. But Africa felt right from the very beginning. Beautiful faces and beautiful land intermingled with harsh realities of AIDS, orphans, malaria, street kids, and glue boys. I had thought about quitting my job after Argentina and moving to South America to build water towers (finally, my family and professors would be proud that I was using my chemical engineering degree!). But I took smaller steps instead to reallocate my resources and give more to projects where God was doing good work. In Kenya, Pastor Steve reassured me “Tash, sometimes you have to do what you have to do in order to be able to do what you want to do.” Simple, profound, and true. So I returned home from Kenya and didn’t quit my job. Instead, I worked hard to save money and I immediately signed up for the next Kenya trip. I had a birthday party and showed slides of the great ministries in Kenya, asking people to support those programs instead of buying me gifts. I tried to make people aware of life outside of our little bubble here in southern California. That sustained me for a while.

In 2008, Kenya’s post-election violence forced the cancelation of our trip to Kenya. So God called me back to Argentina again. The second trip was rougher, in a lot of ways. But it was incredible, too. We worked with two local churches and served as the hands and feet of God while we assisted with the building of a church in one of the indigenous communities. We encouraged the local pastors in their own outreach initiatives. We continued to lay the foundation for future teams. In April of this year, another team returned, the first team to take resources with them. They installed a water purification system, and another team is heading back this weekend. It’s humbling to see how God used us to lay the groundwork for what is turning into big God work. Anyway, after the second trip to Argentina, I felt those familiar stirrings in my soul. My manager sensed it, too, and must have viewed me as a flight risk because I was granted some “retention” stock shortly thereafter. All the while, I was growing more uncomfortable with my comfortable life. Aside from my travel budget, I tried to do more to live simply in an area not known for simplicity.

Earlier this year, I lived in Ghana for a month. That was the tipping point, and I sense that there is no turning back. All of my previous trips and experiences were building up, and my time in Ghana pushed me over the top. I loved the slower pace of life, the focus on relationships, the overt faith. I came back to the US and was depressed. I’ve grown increasingly annoyed with my life, and I feel spoiled by the things I have. For example, I have a cake transporter that is wonderful when I bake a cake from scratch. I can place two round cakes, frosting in the middle, on the platter and easily transport it to the party. But I don’t use it often enough to warrant its space in my life, and I want to give it to someone who will use it regularly. Multiply that across my life, and you get a sense of the discomfort I have in my life. My life feels cluttered, physically and emotionally, and my desire for simplicity is a constant tug.

When I started running the numbers a few months ago on what it would look like (financially) if I move to Ghana, it was liberating. I was able to let go of my concerns about savings account balance, credit rating, salary, and more. It was intoxicating to think that I could do something completely different with my life. I started dreaming about life in Ghana (or, perhaps I never stopped dreaming about it since the day I left). All the while, I grew more and more uncomfortable in my life here. Not just uncomfortable with my life, but uncomfortable in my life – almost as if I am living a life that was made for someone else, so it doesn’t quite “fit.” I’ve been thinking and journaling a lot. (I wish I could say I have been praying more than journaling…) The feeling hasn’t subsided in the last five months. So Monday, I told my manager that (1) I’m officially stepping off the executive track; (2) I’m done with my job; and (3) if I don’t find a different job that feels right for me by January, I’ll be unemployed and I’ll have plenty of time to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.

The responses have ranged from encouragement to shock. Even my closest friends reacted with excitement coupled with some sentiment of “You did WHAT?” My Godfather at work was literally speechless when I told him. Eventually, he told me he wants me to be comfortable with my decision and to pursue my passions, and he agreed to do what he can to help me. Some people definitely think I am crazy for spending 20 years to get somewhere, and then deciding that I don’t want to be here. But I think it’s better to decide that now than in 20 MORE years! Other people think I’m crazy for leaving a good job with a stable company while the economy performs a meltdown all around me. Why purposely make a decision that could easily lead to financial insolvency? I don’t have an answer that is going to satisfy those of you asking me those questions. All I know is that within a matter of months, my comfortable life has been shattered. And it’s beautifully broken.

I don’t know where I am going, or what I am doing, but I do know I am moving. Somewhere. To do something. Either a job that’s more fulfilling or a job that enables me to live a life that is more fulfilling. I’m sure that God is going to let me in on His plan at some point. In the meantime, I’m oing to focus on being ready. God is calling me, and I’m finally brave enough to listen. I heard a quote earlier this year that said something like “The question is not, Is God going to successfully mold me into the woman He has called me to be? The question is rather, How bad is it going to hurt?” I am finally to a point of genuine surrender, whatever that might mean. It’s terrifying, frankly, for this girl who learned as a child that I better be in control or the chaos would spin out of control. But it feels so very right that I can no longer deny it. God has brought me a long way! And, in the words of Mary Mary, “I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me.” These are some faith-building days in my life.

I don’t know whether the next step in my journey is Ghana, I should know more about that possibility next week. What I do know is that Ghana was the turning point in my life. Ironic that a country known for its oppressive slave trade has become symbolic of liberation in my own life. I also know that Kenya planted seeds much earlier, seeds that sprouted this year and are growing like crazy. Hence the title of this blog. Asante, Kenya, and Medaase, Ghana! Hopefully I’ll see you soon :)

P.S. After reading the comments of people, I realized that I didn’t effectively articulate a really important piece of this year. For any of you who read this blog while I was in Ghana, you know how much I loved my life there. Then I came back to my life in Orange County and it was like a slap in the face. I kept thinking that the sting (of said slap) would subside, but it never did. I realized that having hot water whenever I want it is nice, but not at the expense of real relationships. Living in a beautiful condo is a blessing, but not at the expense of contemplative thoughts. Making a good salary with a stable company in a challenging economy is great, but not at the expense of the things that really make up a life. The cake analogy was a bad one, but the point was that all the “trappings of success” felt unimportant once I returned from Ghana. The good life in Ghana helped me realize that the life I made for myself here was really just a rat race.

I wish I could say that I surrendered to God’s will for my life because I knew it was the right thing to do, because I love Him, because He has changed my life. Those things are true, but I really took the big step because I have been feeling miserable. And all the while, God has been tying up loose ends on my life here, so I know it’s time to leave. I truly don’t know what’s next, but I finally got to the point where I trust that God does have a plan for me, and I need to yield to it even though I have no idea what it is. I am confidant that the next step (whatever it is) moves me in the direction of becoming the woman that God has called me to be. Thanks again for your support and encouragement!