At times, my month in Tanzania felt like a real life Charlie Brown movie. As you may recall, all the characters are children. Besides a teacher making the “whomp whom wa wom…” sound at school, no grown-ups seem to be present. In Tanzania, it seemed this way because nearly half of the population of Tanzania is made up of children under the age of 14.
While walking to and from church, going to the market, or going for walks around the neighborhood, their was always a group of children following us; at times the crowd would grow to 100 or more children. They weren’t asking for anything, not causing any trouble – they just wanted to be with us.
Throughout the month, each of us seemed to have connected with one or two of the children. We’d seem to see these kids everywhere – church, the market, the house where we were staying.
I had the honor of befriending this guy!
When my team and I first met him, we asked him his name. He wrote his name in the sand. He wrote a “D”, followed by an “E”, then what looked like two “Ns”, before ending with a “I”, “C”, and “K”.
“Ah,” I said, “Nice to meet you, Dennick!”
This young man taught me so much not only about what it means to have joy, but to share joy with others. He taught me some Swahili, I taught him some English. He taught me how to dance, and apparently I taught him how to laugh at my dance moves!
Long after my return to the States, I was talking to one of my teammates from that month. As our conversation shifted to memories of all the children, I couldn’t help but share about Dennick.
However, during our conversation, my teammate had no recollection of anyone named Dennick. I described him, shared a couple more stories, and she replied, “Oh, do you mean DERRICK?”
As it turns out, we were talking about the same person. We figured that he was learning how to write and misspelled his name sometimes.
At the time of our conversation, I began to feel really guilty. Could it be possible that I called this kid the wrong name the whole month?! Then, I realized that there is an important illustration that can be found here.
It is true I wasn’t exactly sure how to spell, or pronounce, his name. I also didn’t know his living conditions, what his education was like, or if he had loving parents at home.
This wasn’t, however, going to stop me from sharing Christ’s love with him. The only thing that mattered is that the love I was sharing is the love of the God who not only knows his name, but also knows his past, his future, and his every desire.
During The World Race, I will come face to face with people that live in dirty, run down, and dangerous homes. I will stand next to people that have no idea where their next meal will come from. Some will have diseases that don’t exist in America.
It will be overwhelming trying to figure out how to bring a remedy to the struggles of their everyday lives. It is hard to empathize with people experiencing things that are so foreign to me.
At times like this, I will once again trust that God hears them, that He knows my heart for them, and that He will use me to share His love to give hope in hopeless places.
“He sees you, He’s near you
He knows your face
He knows your pain
He sees you, and He loves you
He knows your name
He knows your name”
