When I moved to Tanzania, I prayed time and time again for a desire to cook. Whether it was traditional American food or recipes from a new land, I knew I would need this to survive without the convenience of Chick-fil-A or a microwave.

I believe my God continuously answers this prayer as I experiment in the kitchen and enjoy it. I’m more of a go-with-the-flow cook, meaning I would rather throw random ingredients in a pan than look at a recipe. I can cook the same thing multiple times, and it will never turn out the same way, and honestly, I think that’s part of the fun!

Sometimes, things don’t go according to plan. The bread catches fire, the cake doesn’t rise, the soup boils over, or the food-to-seasoning ratio is way off. (I’m embarrassed to say all these have happened to me in the last few months.) The meal is usually unsalvageable when this happens, but that isn’t always the case. Sometimes, things appear like they aren’t going according to plan, but I need to trust the process.

Take, for example, this week:

After visiting my local farmers’ market, I came home with two beautiful eggplants. This purchase was strictly based on color alone, as I had no idea what to do with this unusual vegetable. After a quick Google search, I decided to attempt a Middle Eastern recipe called Baba Ghanoush. The picture looked exactly like hummus, which I love. So, I thought to myself, what could possibly go wrong?

I followed the directions to a T, not something I usually do when cooking.

Step One: roast the eggplant. Once it is golden brown in color and soft to the touch, remove the skins and put the eggplant in a mesh strainer to remove any extra liquids.

That seemed simple enough. Once the eggplant filled my kitchen with the earthy aroma of roasted vegetables, I removed it from the oven and began peeling off the skin. The recipe failed to mention that the “golden brown” color may be more greyish, greenish brown. I thought I must have bought rotten eggplants.

Nothing about this sticky, ugly mess looked appetizing to me. I considered throwing it out and just having a peanut butter sandwich for dinner. But it wasn’t the final product, and there were many more steps until the Baba Ghanoush would be complete.

Instead of giving up, I decided to trust the process. This adventure had two possible endings:

I would waste the next 30 minutes of my life cooking a rotten mess, OR
I would follow the remaining steps and end up with a delicious treat!

I followed the remaining directions, unsure of the outcome. Luckily, the second option was the winner, and if you have never tried Baba Ghanoush and you like hummus, it’s delicious!

Through cooking, God has taught me so much about what it looks like to grow as I walk with him into the unknown. As much as we may want to, it is impossible to skip to the end without going through all the steps.

There are times when life feels like a sticky, ugly mess. Amid growing pains and uncontrollable circumstances, I often think nothing beautiful could come from a season like this. In those moments, God reminds me that what feels uncomfortable is just a tiny part of the story in which he is working together for his good and glory.

Sometimes, life may feel like it’s on fire, has too much or not enough seasoning, or feels like it’s just not coming together. But through it all – my job? I want to trust the process and remember that my God is in control.

Almost exactly one year ago (a little more than now), I decided to move to Tanzania.

I can remember the anticipation and anxiety, my thoughts moving at the speed of light as I thought through this decision. I recently came across a journal entry from that season where I wrote:

“Stuck.
Cemented in place.
In a never-ending whirlpool.
The whipping winds of a cyclone, the tormenting waves of a tsunami.
but suddenly, without warning – deafening silence in the eye of a hurricane.
Momentary relief in a sea of chaos.
But it is not peaceful; it is stagnant and stale.
Imitation at best.
Because while it may seam calm in the eye, you can only ignore the raging seas for so long.
You can only remain blind to the bending trees and roaring winds if your eyes are shut.
One blink, one breath, sends you right back to reality.
To the tormenting waves, never-ending cycle of fear and doubt as you stand.
Cemented in place.
Stuck.”

I tried making the most significant life decision in my own strength. But like yesterday, I also remember the instantaneous peace I felt when I finally let go of control and listened to God’s calling.

Sitting on Kome Island, I had no agenda, only to visit and observe as the school year started. When the kids and teachers returned home each afternoon, I had so much time to sit in the silence of the peaceful island and pray through all the Lord was laying on my heart. One afternoon, I was reading my Bible, and a verse stood out like never before.

“Just as each one has received a gift, use it to serve others, as good stewards of the varied grace of God. ¹¹ If anyone speaks, let it be as one who speaks God’s words; if anyone serves, let it be from the strength God provides, so that God may be glorified through Jesus Christ in everything. To him be the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen.”
1 Peter 4:10-11

As I read this passage repeatedly, I thought specifically about serving in the strength God provides. Do I rely on Him, or am I trying to do everything and make every decision in my strength? God opened my eyes to how I allowed my shortfalls and insecurities to dictate the paths I considered and how I prayed about my future.

I remember pausing at that moment and telling God, “If this is what you want for me, then take away every fear.” I didn’t have the time to finish typing and hit send before he gave me his reply.

The sudden, overwhelming, all-consuming peace was all the confirmation I needed. God wanted me in Tanzania. When? For how long? For what purpose? All those answers would come later. At that moment, I knew His plans were more significant than mine.

My job now? Trust.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding; think about Him in all your ways, and He will guide you on the right paths.”
Proverbs 4:5-6

Trust has never come easy for me. I’m sure many people could say the same. My default is to doubt. To ask questions and look for reasons to believe trust is merited. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, for much of my life, I lived by the phrase, “Trust is earned, not given.” I still do from time to time.

But God asks us to do just the opposite of what comes naturally.

Wait.
Listen.
Trust.
Follow.

This year, I hope to continue learning as I seek to follow the leader, for it is in following that we find true freedom.

Day Six

I awoke suddenly to wind chimes, beeps, and music as a chorus of alarms went off around me. The sharp pains of a splitting headache amplified each sound. It was 11:00 p.m., and now time to prepare for our summit attempt. Putting on each layer to protect my body from the icy winds was like dawning a suit of armor. The frigid air and the thick snow pants caused my body to feel stiff and immovable.

Dehydrated and running on little sleep, I couldn’t stomach any food served at our midnight breakfast. After a few forced sips of hot tea, I was ready to begin shedding layers. As the team ate, we sat in total silence. As we waited, I began praying over and over:

“God, whatever happens, may you be glorified.”

Finally, it was time. We grabbed our supplies and followed the leader up the mountain in a single file line. We hiked in the black of night in total silence, our headlamps illuminating the feet in front of us and nothing more. Within the first few minutes, my lungs were screaming for oxygen. Each icy breath felt like a knife as it shocked my system.

After maybe 20 minutes, I thought listening to worship music would help get my mind off my headache and lungs. (Side note – A week before the climb, I left my AirPods on Kome Island, so if I listened to music, everyone listened.) My phone was deep in the abyss of layered clothing, so I had to rely on my memory.

Unfortunately, the jukebox in my brain seemed to be malfunctioning this morning, so one single line of a Rich Mullins song played on repeat for the next hour:

My God has a great sense of humor. As this verse repeatedly played in my head, I thought about how this song depicted what I was doing then. I sought after Jesus early in the morning as I took step after step up a mountain. Each step was hard but worth it. In the same way, steps of faith are not always easy, but they are always worth it.

Lesson #7 – Pursuing Christ is worth everything.

“Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” Matthew 6:33

As we continued climbing, the pain worsened, the breaths became shorter and faster, and the nausea began to set in. I had to stop frequently to catch my breath and occasionally to dry-heave behind rocks as I had nothing in my stomach.

Each time I stopped, I felt a pang of guilt for slowing down my teammates. What I was unaware of in the moment was that my team surrounded me and prayed over me each time I stopped. When the enemy wanted me to feel alone, I was, in reality, surrounded by warriors pleading for my strength and healing.

After two hours of walking, stopping, walking, and stopping, my body had had enough. I sat on the ground in the middle of the path, feeling defeated. As I began to pray, an overwhelming feeling of peace overcame this wisp of defeat. I turned to Yusuph as tears flooded my eyes and said, “I think you know what I am about to say.” He nodded.

“I’ve gone as far as I am supposed to go.” These words tasted like honey and felt like a sweet release. The rest of the team immediately tried to rebuttal with words of encouragement, to which I said, “I am at complete peace with this decision. I’ve gone farther than I ever thought I would go.”

Yusuph looked me in the eyes and said, “Knowing your limits is a strength far greater than any weakness.”

Before leaving the team, John, our lead guide, congratulated me and said, “Emma, you have climbed over 5,000 meters.” Looking at my watch, it had clocked around 17,000 ft. elevation, nearly 6,000 ft higher than I had ever been previously. I hugged each team member and promised to pray for them as they climbed to the top of the mountain, and that is precisely what I did.

Seventeen minutes later, I was back at camp. One of our guides practically ran me down the mountain as my boots slid and skied over the chalky, sand-like ground. I crawled into my tent and tried my best to get warm. It was six degrees Fahrenheit, and the warm water bottle I used to heat my sleeping bag was now a block of ice. As I shivered, I prayed and anticipated the return of my teammates. I couldn’t wait to celebrate their success.

As the sun rose above the peak, I sat on a rock near the edge of camp and waited. Soon, my friends began returning to camp, two or three at a time. What joy it brought me to hear their stories of trials and triumphs as each one made it to the top.

Then, like gravity, what went up must go back down. It took us a day and a half to reach the mountain base. Climbing down felt harder than climbing up as we used and strained different muscles and eagerly anticipated the warm showers and soft beds waiting for us back at the hotel.

When asked about my experience on the mountain, I’ve told many people this was by far the hardest thing I have ever done. Would I do it again? Only time will tell – but I am grateful for every memory, every lesson, and the continued growth I have experienced since.

Lesson #8 – Sometimes, we go through hard things to prepare us for something greater.

“He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.” 2 Corinthians 1:4-5

When I think about the mountain, I don’t think about the pain and hardships (although they were at the forefront of my mind for the first few weeks. My body has never been more sore!), I think about the lessons I learned. I see how God used the mountain to prepare me for my most incredible adventure yet – moving to Tanzania. In every situation, I am learning to rely on Him, seek help from others, and leave every concern at the foot of the cross. I don’t do this perfectly, but I will continue learning.

The adventure is only getting started! I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

Day five

We awoke early the next morning to begin our final day of climbing before the summit attempt. As I choked down breakfast and guzzled as much water as my stomach could handle, I dreaded putting on my hiking boots. By this point, my feet were swollen to twice their standard size, and I had completely lost feeling in 3 of my toes. I forced my feet into my boots, and my whole body ached as we began our ascent.

As we inched forward, one step at a time, I began repeating over and over in my mind, “The Lord is my refuge and strength. My ever-present help in times of trouble. Therefore, I will not fear…” Psalm 46:1-2a. Without even realizing it, my internal mantra became external at some point. Tara was hiking behind me and asked, “What verse are you repeating?” then, “Why don’t you finish the verse?” The rest of the verse speaks of mountains crumbling into the sea, probably not the encouragement needed for mountain climbing. However, it would make our descent quicker!

As we hiked higher and higher over dusty sand and scattered rock, I began setting small, attainable goals for myself. I would look ahead, pick a landmark, and then pray, sing, count steps — do whatever was necessary to motivate me — until I reached my goal. The higher we climbed, the shorter the distance became between each landmark. The path steepened, and as we approached the final mile to camp, we began seeing weary travelers descending the mountain. This is a kind, too-pretty description of what we came to describe as mountain zombies – hikers being carried, dragged, and rolled back down the mountain after their summit attempt. Many looked to be near death as they were thrown over the shoulder of their guide like a porter hauling tents. I can’t say this made anyone on our team eager to continue the climb.

We continued passing mountain zombies, and my distance between goals continued to decrease. We were in the last half hour, but I wasn’t sure if my wobbly legs and swollen feet could make it. At this point, I felt the effects of the altitude as my lungs gasped for air and my muscles shook from fatigue.

Lesson #6 – we are stronger in community.

“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” Hebrews 10:24-25

Two dear teammates, Wade and Tara, took the same painfully slow pace I set and encouraged me along the way.

“Emma, take ten more steps, and then you can rest.”

“That’s it, now let’s do ten more!”

“Think you can do 15 this time? Then we can pause to catch our breath.”

This went on for at least half an hour, counting my every step, pausing with me when needed, and speaking encouragement when I had no words. Reminding me of the goals ahead and how much we had achieved. Before I knew it, we had arrived. A hot lunch waited for us, and a glorious afternoon nap.

We would eat dinner, sleep for a few hours, and soon begin the final climb.

To Be Continued…