The Journey (God's Glory)
I find that telling a story is not satisfying to me unless I explain everything, from the beginning.
So here we go: The beginning.
On the World Race, we like to do a little something called “ATL,” ministry. ATL stands for Ask The Lord. Crazy, right?
Well today it was.
If this is a foreign concept to you (as it was for me), this is basically just getting together before we leave the house and asking God where He wants us. If we walk in the Christian faith, we should believe that any good or productive ministry comes from the Lord. It is something that He has prepared in advance for us to do.
Not that you have to ask the Lord about every little step that you take, because He also leads us by putting desires in our hearts. Not to mention He never actually needs our help. But he wants to use us. And sometimes it just makes sense to slow down and invite the Lord to speak. You’d be surprised what can happen.
On our first day of ministry, this is exactly what we did. Seven young adults asking the Lord what he has for us. So we split into 2 teams, and went our separate ways. Our group of three had a plan to try and make relations with a school van driver (no buses, here), so that we could get around town this month.
So naturally, we looked for a school. What this really was, was God’s funny way of walking us up and down roads, in and out of streets, only to find what He really had in store.
As we walked, we passed a huge dark brown field of mud and trash—the local dump.
Our white faces were spotted from a mile away. We looked over and saw an anemone of 15 pairs of hands waving at us. (Don’t know what an anemone is? Picture the house of Nemo and Marlin in “Finding Nemo”).
As soon as we saw them, our hearts skipped a beat.
We walked to the entrance; stopped to pray; and the Lord invited us into the most beautiful place I have ever seen.
Giant tire marks pave the way through the trail of mud. We weaved through hills made of trash and rotten food. And for what felt like the first time, we laid our eyes on the bride of our King.
As we walked up to the people, we had no idea what to expect. If they would speak English. If they would welcome us in, or just stare. If it was even safe. But God gave us an abundance of peace. And rather than fear or stress, I only had love for them. Without speaking a word on either end, the Lord showed me His face. His beloved. His Kingdom in the most unlikely place.
We watched them sort through the garbage with their bare hands. At points, they were literally standing knee deep.
The old woman in her brown dress relentlessly tossing dirty cardboard into a pile.
Our friend Linda eating soggy French fries from a bag that he found.
And another man coming up to show us his find of the day that consisted of a bag of old cereal and a carton of full cream milk (most likely expired).
This was the first day, and the deciding moment that the Lord had called us here. These are the forgotten ones. The wanderer with no shelter. The hungry man. The very people that Scripture commands us to seek out and love without condition.
This place is paradise.
I share this with you, because I have fallen in love. Truly. I have never felt a higher honor than to be given the privilege to live life with my brothers and sisters in the dump of Manzini, Swaziland.
I don’t know what God has in store, but I have never been more sure that the Lord guided every single footstep to get there. From allowing me to go on this trip, to placing me in the city of Manzini, to confusing us to walk into the heart of the dump. This is what God has called me to.
I just want to show my King glory. This is not about me. This is not that I am more equipped to go than anyone else. But the Lord has shown me His face and I can’t stay quiet. I am not a special person, but a blessed person who is getting to walk through His kingdom every day and proclaim freedom to those who are living in captivity. Hunger. Homelessness. Alcoholism. There is nothing that my King cannot do.
What does your kingdom look like?
More individual stories to come.
