Muizenburg, South Africa – a stunning little surfer town that will win your heart over simply by its beauty and laid back vibes. It doesn’t take much time to walk in awareness of what everyday life looks like here for the locals. Surfers swarming the beach, young adults hanging out, listening to music, drinking into the night, and kids roaming around, singing on street corners, begging for money, food, whatever you’re willing to give. If you look a bit closer at this towns normalcy and have a willing heart, the Lord will allow you to not only enjoy his beautiful creation, but will give you eyes to see the need for Jesus in a town unknowingly searching for more.
Ministry this month was very laid back. We built relationships with our new friends at the Hostel we lived at, we checked out a variety of local churches and let the Lord lead us into opportunities to serve within the community. We were invited to do an evening of outreach with an American named Duke, a pastor we met at a local church. He took us into the Capricorn area, one of the poorest and most dangerous communities in Muizenburg, an area many of the locals encouraged us to avoid. Duke was a firm believer that preaching in churches alone won’t bring the light of Jesus to those who are seeking for more.
We found a place to park and within moments he was out of the car, sharing the gospel without hesitatation. He wasn’t walking in an ounce of fear so I thought, okay….neither will I. People were interested, they listened intently, the crowd grew and people gathered. Capricorn may have been on the list of places to avoid but in our hearts we knew we were exactly where we needed to be. It also happened to be home to some of the street boys we continuously ran into each day. We were excited to see the boys, to continue to love on them and share in the excitement that we were in fact visiting the area that they call home. Us girls all had peeled eyes, scanning the group for these boys we had been loving on, feeding, and spending time with over the last couple of weeks.
We asked around, showed a few people photos of a specific boy that had heavily been laid on my friend Bri’s heart, knowing that he was from this specific block. No luck. I could tell Bri was really bummed. No matter how much her heart breaks for these kids, she has encouraged me to never feel helpless when they aren’t where she expects them to be. The Lord always brings them in her path if that is what he has planned for the day.
Our time was finished here, so we left, hopeful that we’d see the kids within the next few days in their usual spot singing and begging on the street to a beat made with a water bottle full of rocks. As we drove home, the 12 year old boy we had been looking for appeared almost out of nowhere. I think in our excitement, we had forgotten their daily routine of begging and returning home later in the evenings. We called his name and he approached the car, standing almost directly outside my window.
We asked him how he was, what he was doing, where he was heading. He stared blankly, attempting to speak, but couldn’t form a word. He was holding a small bag in his hand that he somehow consciously dropped on the ground, trying to hide it under his foot. We new immediately that he had just sniffed a bunch of glue and was high out of his mind. This wasn’t the pastors first encounter with him, nor his first time trying to speak life into his choices and battle against a common addiction amongst street kids sniffing glue. This unfortunate yet easily available product, brings releaf to the hunger pains, takes them to a euphoric place where they feel hope, and allows them to day dream of a life worth living.
He stared at us like we were aliens, trying with all his might to form a word, to interact with us, to cover up his choice to get high. Completely lost and unable to function properly, he slowly lowered himself to the ground, eventually laying down entirely. Tears formed in our eyes as we waiting patiently for his high to wear off. Moments later, he came to, completely unaware of the interaction we just had over the last 10 minutes.
I’ve been immersed in community after community over these last 10 months, with children flooding the streets, dirty, hungry, and begging for a life worth living. It kills me. My heart aches for them and their dependence on drugs, alcohol, prostitution, begging, stealing – things that no child should ever have to struggle with to feel fulfilled, or better yet to survive. As much as it hurts to see it, it’s real, and the number of kids affected are growing.
There are roughly 150 million abandoned children, ages 4-13, living on the streets around the world. They are subject to abuse, neglect, exploitation, rape, and in extreme cases murder. The common reaction to these kids is to keep walking and turn a blind eye to their need. It’s easy to close your heart off to their begging, go about your day and misunderstand their messy addiction to sniffing glue or there reason for being on the streets in the first place.
In these moments I feel helpless. I question my tiny ability to make a difference towards such a massive and devestating issue. Buying them snacks, hanging out with them on the street corner and stopping to say hi each time we see them is only meeting their immediate needs, not making a sustaining difference. What happens when we leave at the end of the month? My heart aches to rescue each and every one of these kids, to give them love and comfort and stability. In my confusion and overwhelming emotions of defeat, the Lord reminded me that even if it was just for a moment, he used me and my friends to fulfil their greatest need above them all: they felt loved. They were card for. They were seen.
