Lessons from a (Coach) handbag

As most of you know, I am a shopaholic… a reformed – or at least reforming shopaholic, but one none-the-less! I am a follower of Jesus and currently serving as a volunteer missionary in Zimbabwe. I will tell you this, there is no surer way to kick a shopping addiction than to move to Zimbabwe! For many of the past four and a half years that I have been here, we have had to leave the country even to buy groceries! But, I haven’t changed completely and when I visit friends and family in the States, it is a challenge to not become overwhelmed with the lovely things to behold at every shop I walk past!

On my last trip home to the States (at the beginning of 2010), I saw a handbag in a department store that I fell in love with. It was a Coach bag, but not just any COACH bag, it was gorgeous. My (2nd hand, no brand) purse had been stolen in Zimbabwe in June of 2009 and I was desperately in the market for a bag, any bag would do, when I stumbled across the bag that would change my life. (Now, I know I sound dramatic, but stay with me—this bag has indeed changed my life!)
I didn’t buy the bag. I wanted to buy the bag, but remember I have been living with no salary for years…come on people; I wasn’t going to be able to afford a coach bag. My grandma (as usual) was right, “a missionary in Zimbabwe does not need that bag”. BUT, this missionary to Zimbabwe, WANTED that bag. Badly. Like, so badly that I considered giving up this life, getting a job and buying the bag. But I quickly realized I was never going to be able to justify giving up my current lifestyle over a purse—that was pushing it, even for me.

A month after seeing the bag, I had gotten over it and realized as I prepared to go back to Zimbabwe, that I didn’t really need the bag. (But I still wanted it). I have to raise all of the money that I spend living and working in Zimbabwe. My friends and family, (mainly you great people who are reading this) make this possible by donating generously to ROCK of Africa, who sends me here. I was having a garage sale to raise some of the money I needed to return and when I took all of the items that didn’t sell to the local Goodwill, my mouth dropped open on the last of multiple trips. By then I had made friends with all of the men who were helping me unload the car and they knew that I was getting ready to return to Zimbabwe. My mouth dropped open in shock, when I was getting ready to leave because I saw my bag, that beautiful, special, I-just-gotta-have-it Coach bag-sitting in one of the Goodwill trucks. I quickly asked, “Is that someone’s bag or is it a donation?” My new friend said, “It’s a donation.” My heart got so excited! “When will it make it into the store, I just have to buy that bag!” This man will probably never know that his next few words would mean so much, “Here, it’s yours.”
This bag changed my life, not because it was a great bag (which it was) but because of the lessons I have learned from that beautiful-just for me- Coach bag… and here is what I have learned.

Lesson #1: God really does care about the desires of my heart.

The Bible says in Psalm 37:4 “Delight in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.” I love this verse. I have learned so many lessons around this verse in the past few years. I have learned that when I find my joy and pleasure in the time I spend with Lord the desires of my heart begin to match His will for my life and then, pretty quickly, they start to materialize.

Even still, I often find myself thinking that God couldn’t possibly care about the silly little desires of my heart, like wanting a sunny day on the beach for my birthday or a coach purse that I saw in a shop… but He does. He cares about every aspect of my heart and when I opened that Coach bag for the first time and saw the card that said, “Thank you for purchasing Coach” my heart swelled with joy. Not because the bag was new, and free and beautiful, but because the miraculous way in which it made itself to me, was proof that God loves me enough to care about even my silly little unimportant desires. I am important to Him… just as I am.

Lesson #2: Jesus loves me.

From that day forward, I have called that amazing bag, my “Jesus loves me purse”.
People ask me why and I love telling them the story of how it became mine. People LOVE the story. Not because I tell it with such excitement, but I think deep down, when they hear the story, something resonates with them as well. Such a small thing as a purse has helped me to share the Gospel with people in several countries and in a non threatening way. It is my hope, that they walk away thinking of all the little things in their life that point to the truth that “God loved the world so much that He gave his only son” (John 3:16)

Lesson #3: From time to time, I need a reminder about how much I am loved.

There are some days that are just hard. Bad, grouchy, ugly days. I do not like those days. On those days my heart doesn’t naturally whistle the tune to the song I learned so long ago in Sunday School, “Jesus loves me this I know…” Because even though I do KNOW, I don’t always FEEL it. On those days I need a reminder. For me, my purse served as a reminder. On really bad days I could look at those gold rings, the chocolate leather and especially the hot pink squares and remember, “You love me so much that not only have you saved me from certain death, an insignificant life and a bleak eternity, but you also bless me on a regular basis with more than I need and want and hope for.” That purse from Jesus was a reminder of His love for me as bold and clear as a husband sending his wife roses to work for no reason at all. Or a teenager giving his girlfriend a mix CD of all the songs that remind him of her. We all need reminders that we are loved, out of the blue, very obvious, statements of love. My purse was that, clear and obvious enough for me to grasp even when things seemed to fall apart and confuse me.

Lesson #4: I have an enemy who does try to steal, kill and destroy. I must pay attention

This is the hard one. This weekend, I was sitting in my car after speaking at a youth event. I needed a break. I needed some quiet time. I needed to be alone. I parked my car in a church parking lot and I read, and I sat by myself in the quiet, not having to answer to anyone. It was amazing, for about 15 minutes. After that I saw a car park behind me. Then a big man got out of the car and walked past my window to the church door. He immediately turned around and went back to his car. I went back to my reading and my peace of mind.

A few minutes later my car was shaking. I saw in my mirror a man was by my tire. I thought he had fallen. I asked “Are you ok?” Then saw his HUGE knife. “What are you doing?” He said, “Oh sorry madam” and then ran to the car and they sped off… with my purse. My just-for-me-gift-from-God-beautiful Coach purse. And all my money, my driver’s license, house keys, Bible and all the other goodies a girl keeps in her favorite purse. And they left me all alone, with a flat tire.
As I was filling out the police report (4 hours later as that’s how long it takes to get a new tire on a Saturday afternoon in Harare), my heart kept hurting as I realized that I would never again look at that bag and be reminded of God’s love for me. And at that moment, I could have really used a reminder. That night as I was praying and thanking God for keeping me safe, in what could’ve been a very awful situation, I learned another lesson from my purse.

The Bible says, “The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy” (John 10:10). The two men that took my purse have no idea the story behind it. They know it was valuable and they know that they stole my money and my things, but they do not know what it means. But Satan does. He gets it. He hates me, because he hates my God. In a silly but very real way, that purse helped me do what I do here, which is to bring Glory to the God I serve. The enemy of my soul despises anything that brings Glory to God. That means me and anything that helps me remember who I serve. That means my purse. Sometimes I forget how real of a battle is going on around me. The enemy will steal anything from me, hoping to distract me from the love of God. He will destroy anything (my marriage, my family, my church) if it means I will forget who I serve. He will even try to kill me if that is what it takes, but no matter what happens to me I can still choose to stand firm and praise my God.

Lesson #5: If I let Him, God will take even the worst things that happen to me and make them seem alright, and maybe even good!

There has been an amazing man in my life since May 2009. His name is Nyasha. I love him. I have loved him for quite a while. I have prayed for him since the day I became a Christian. He is everything I have asked God for in a husband: He is a REAL- ON FIRE Christian. He understands, loves and respects my work. He wants to adopt babies. He listens to me and (although not as much as I would want) talks to me. He shares openly about his heart, his fears, his hopes. He works hard and is very smart. He is in Bible school. He is really, really good looking (I put this last so that you will think I’m less shallow than I am, haha)

I fell in love with Nyasha last June, at the Avondale police station in Harare. My car had just been broken in to and my laptop and basically everything was stolen. (It might sound like it, but this is very rare… I have had so few experiences with theft in Zimbabwe, but with the economy being so bad—I guess it happens). Nyasha and a few of my other friends went with me to fill out the police report. It was traumatic, I was sad. Nyasha took care of everything, all the questions all the details and in between questions from the police he sat next to me and prayed. He sent me text messages about God’s faithfulness. He calmed me down and stole my heart.

(This is relevant so please stay with me)

My life in Zimbabwe is hard. It’s harder than I ever wanted it to be. I live so differently than anything I ever imagined. I am an outsider everywhere I go now, even in the States. I miss my family, my friends, my dog, my career, the American lifestyle, shopping, being independent. If I allow myself to think of my life and what I miss, it is overwhelming. I can get depressed, angry or just feel sorry for myself so quickly.

Over the past 15 months since I fell in love with Nyasha life has beaten us up. Both of us. Nothing has been easy. Zimbabwe is a racially charged nation because of all of the hurts and injustices that have taken place here. Everyone has an opinion about the politics and somehow race=politics. Nyasha is black, I am white. That means life is hard. Nyasha is African, I am American. That means life is harder. My family is worried about me living in Zimbabwe, marrying someone here would mean more permanence than any American parent would want for their child. On top of that, life happens. Work is hard, finances are harder. Friendships are strained and relatives die. There are ups and downs and celebrations and sadness and throughout them all we have an enemy that hates us. We have both made mistakes and both hurt each other and through it all, we have had an enemy that enjoys stealing.

I have let the same enemy that stole my purse, steal my love. He didn’t come with a knife and slash my tires, but he came with words. Words that were strategically whispered into my ears when my heart was hurting, words that said, ‘he doesn’t love you like he says he does’ or ‘this will never work’ or ‘you know that no one will ever love you because of who you were’. Those kinds of words can sound so believable when life is ugly and hard and exhausting.
The enemy wants me to leave Zimbabwe. For those of you who have been on this journey with me, you know this to be true. Sometimes I consider it, but God always reminds me of what He has called me to.

I broke up with Nyasha recently. He is the best man I have ever known and I listened to the words of a thief that told me it wasn’t enough.
But the Bible promises me that no plan formed against me will prosper. That God will take the bad moments and make them good.

When the thieves stole my purse and left me with a flat tire, I called Nyasha. He loves me still and he came to my rescue… even though he had other things to do, important things, like cricket practice. 4 hours later we ended up where we began: at the Avondale police station making a report. I looked at the man sitting next to me, once again taking care of everything. He is not the same as the man I fell in love with a year ago. He is changed. He is stronger, he is older, he is wiser, he is funnier, he is more godly, he loves the Lord more and he is better to his family. He can now change a diaper and hold a baby and he refuses to stand for injustices in his nation. He chases his dreams and fights for the people he loves.
Sitting at the Avondale police station, I wanted to cry for what has been stolen from me. Not the purse that seemed to say, “Your God loves you so much that He will give you the silly desires of your heart.” But the man, whose presence in my life said, “Your God has been listening to every prayer that you have you ever said, every thought you have ever had and every tear you have ever cried. He loves you so much that He will not only give you a man that meets all of the criteria you have asked for, but one even better than that. He has granted you the desires of your heart that you didn’t even know were desires.” That is what I would have heard if I had not been listening to the lies whispered by the voice of the thief.

But God can make good out of bad. I am trusting that as God has changed my heart, and allowed me to see the truth again, that it will not be too late for me and the man I love. Please pray for us. I am not sure what the future holds for me and Mr. Nyasha Chari, but whatever it is, I know that God loves us both and He can be trusted. I know that God has a plan that meets the deepest desires of BOTH of our hearts.

And just as the purse on my arm was a reminder of God’s love, the absence of that purse will now serve as a reminder that if I am not mindful, the great gifts that God gives me will be stolen by the one who hates me. And a reminder that even in the ugly moments, God is bringing beauty from ashes, blessings from curses and good things from the bad.