I feel like a little piece of me dies inside every time we do ministry in the morning. I am not just being dramatic. It is one of the hardest things I have had to do this month.
We are in a place called Nsoko at an Adventures in Missions base with a team house and an established ministry. We were told at our de brief that the HIV infection rate here is about 90%. Basically, assume everyone is infected and be careful.
We wake up and meet with our contact and ministry partners and pray as a team for the day’s activities. Then we head out to different small huts where GoGos are cooking a large quantity of pop (a corn maize paste) and beans. The sand and dirt caked children jump in to our arms for hugs and tickles. Some of them are not wearing pants or a diaper. Most of them have runny noses. Many are infected with HIV. All of them just want to be loved.
I had no idea what to expect the first time we reached a care point. I was just excited to hang out with the children. Immediately a little girl came up and reached her hand up to me to hold. I was instantly reminded of being a child myself, and having nightmares and sneaking off in to my parents’ room. My mom would make a floor bed for me next to her side and reach her hand down. I rested in the comfort of simply holding her hand. As the young girl felt more comfortable with me and other kids tried to take me away from her she reached up to me as though she wanted to be held. I took her in my arms and she rested her head on my shoulder. She was asleep within 3 minutes. I snuggled her while the other children colored and painted fingernails and enjoyed every moment of it. In my quiet, secret spot I could give this little girl this comfort all the time. I could offer the love that she longed for. In a quick subtle moment I was shaken back to the reality of the situation. Claire, our contact’s 13 year old daughter instructed me that it was time to wake her up and put her down. She needed to get her hands washed in preparation for the only meal she may receive today.
Another day, another care point. The same desperate cry out for love. A little girl approaches me and we exchange tickles (tickles translate so easily). My heart instantly melts as these little children gather in 90 degree hot African sun with their plates and forks to eat. The older ones, I mean 4-5 year olds, are responsible to get their younger siblings to the care point and the younger ones just watch as their siblings play. We gather them together for a short bible story and I see the little girl staring at me with this look in her eyes of exhaustion, hunger, and surrender. Her little head bobs as she tries to stay awake and not let the heat and hunger overtake her. I wave for her to come to me and lift her up in my arms. She melts as I feel a sense of relief fill her body. I can’t meet all these kids needs, only God can. I am trying my hardest and just praying that I am answering the call to provide the immediate need in the lives of these children.
My favorite part of the ministry is when the children get together for the Bible lesson and they sing songs. Cries out to the Lord that light up their faces. It looks and sounds beautiful, and in that moment makes it all worth it. It assures me that they know who their provider is, Jehovah Jireh. Knowing that they are children of the Lord and they are being spiritually fed brings me so much joy.
