I had the privilege to go to Africa and serve a small Christian organization with a mission to build and equip pastors in the field, meaning pastors in small villages. We would load up in a van, and drive to a village, many times the village was several hours away, making for very long days. On the way, we would talk, pray, and encourage each other, especially as the week went on and we started to really feel the physical wear and tear.

One day that is particularly sharp in my memory, is the day we drove a couple of hours in order to get to a ferry that would take our van over to an island. The ferry trip was one long prayer, as we were literally pressed body to body. I have no idea how many people the ferry was designed to carry, but we were way way over whatever that number was. I realized this was exactly how those stories of overcrowded boats sinking happened. After we finally disembarked, we loaded up and started driving down an incredibly narrow path (not a road) with branches hitting the van, pot holes that jarred our teeth, and a couple of tight turns that I didn’t think we could make.

Upon arrival, we were swamped with children wanting to touch us, dance with us, and simply hold hands while shouting “mzungu”. Their joy was palpable, and humbling. The adults were so incredibly kind and welcoming, we were treated as honored guests. I wish I treated everyone who has come to my home with as much love and joy as they treated us with. They were so grateful to see us, to have visitors from off the island come to be with them. I later learned that most of the children had never seen a white person (mzungu) before, which explained some of their reactions to us.

At lunch, we were served rice and beans, and there was a small pot of meat, just for our team. I love rice and beans, but there was no way I was going to eat the mystery meat in the pot, I can be brave with food on occasion, but one look convinced me that this was not the time to be brave.

That all changed as we gathered with the elders and our translator told us a little of the back story on our visit. To start with, the trail we drove up was single file walking path that has been enlarged for our van, so we would not have to walk the several miles required to get to the village. And by “enlarged”, that meant that the men and boys had taken machetes and hacked out the path. Miles of jungle path had been hacked by hand, just to make it easier for us to arrive. And the meat was to honor us, there was no meat for anyone else, just for our team. It was a sacrifice, to honor us and show their gratitude and appreciation for us coming. In turn I was shocked, amazed, embarrassed, and finally deeply humbled by what had been done for us.

Those few words of context showed me the sacrifice involved behind the path and the meat. The gift of meat out of context would lead me to say no thank you. However, with the context, I could receive the gift in the spirit it was meant, allowing me to take and eat with a spirit of gratitude and thankfulness. I now had a glimpse of the hard work and sacrifice made to literally carve out a road where only a path had been. I also knew that in order to give us meat, everyone else did without.

I believe this concept of receiving a gift, of understanding what’s behind the gift, also applies to what God has for us. In The Promise Principle, Phillip Hunter says “If you can understand the sacrifice, you can receive with a thankful heart. You can’t truly receive anything from anyone without gratefulness.” If you don’t understand the sacrifice and don’t have gratefulness, you are simply taking a gift. The difference is subtle, but significant. God’s promises are either truth we take, or truth we receive, and if we receive it, it becomes truth that changes us. As my wife has reminded me countless times, gratitude may just be the secret to life, and it might make all the difference as we learn to receive the gifts of our Father.

Today I’m praying that I can begin to get a glimpse of the sacrifice and love behind God’s promises to me in His word. And maybe I can begin to see the context of the promises He made me, starting with the promise that He loves me. Regardless of how worthy or unworthy I feel. Lord, help me to be grateful, help me to receive your promises, believe them, and act on them. And may we all have a little of the joy those children had.

Grace and peace.