April 15, 2013
He didn’t care that I didn’t know his name. No formal introduction necessary. It didn’t bother him that at least fifty other people moved about all around us, some cooking, some playing and some just hanging out on another Monday afternoon in Ngunya, Swaziland. The more the merrier. He had not a worry in the world as he scampered about, free as the breeze, ‘sneaking’ up on me then scampering away before I could grab him. ‘Free as the breeze,’ is the key phrase in this description. My newest, giggly, adorable little friend – he couldn’t have been more than three – was all light, all joy and, unashamedly, all boy.
“Naked babies” are one thing you just get used to on The World Race. In eight months, there isn’t a single country that I haven’t seen them in. I’ve learned that ‘modesty’ certainly has a different definition around the world, and I’ve personally grown to adore the innocence that children embody. Hence, it didn’t bother me in the least when my little buddy finally gave up his game of sneak attack and, instead, barreled at me full force, launched himself into my arms and wrapped his own tiny hug tightly around my neck. We danced a bit and ticked for a moment, and then he was ready for something else, so I set him down and continued my conversations with a few teenage girls.
This is the usual routine of our afternoons in Swaziland. We’ve spent the month visiting ten different “Care Points,” which are essentially aid stations for local children. Throughout the week they are fed daily meals of rice and beans, taught about HIV/Aids prevention, given medical care and allowed a few hours of safe playtime before venturing home (or to wherever they will spend that night.) Our World Race teams have more-or-less hosted “Bible School” at each Care Point, teaching different lessons, making crafts, singing songs and playing games. The kids (anywhere from babies to 18 year olds) love it! And truth be told, we World Racers are pretty crazy about this ministry, as well. Whether we are loving on babies, helping older students practice their English, hosting long-jump competitions (I’m convinced I’ve witnessed eventual Olympic stars in action!) or spending time with the Go-Gos (volunteers who cook for the children each day,) we know that our presence here truly means something to the people. We get to love them. Simple.
I was mid-conversation about fashionable shoes (how do I get myself into this stuff?) when it happened. I nearly had my two new teenage fans (cough, friends) convinced that I knew all the latest trends in America when I felt an odd splatter hit my arm. Bare in mind, we are in a country with no extreme water shortage, but I currently live in an area where it doesn’t exactly run freely and the people here waste nothing. Instantly I knew something was off. Alas, I wasn’t quite prepared to look up and find the source of the splatter towering over me from his rickety, jungle-gym perch.
In his defense, it wasn’t on purpose. My “naked baby” didn’t even realize I was there (so I choose to believe.) He had been hard at play, up the ladder, down the slide, up the ladder, down the slide, up the ladder… uh oh! And hey… what’s more fun for a three-year-old fellow than peeing out in the open. Or in this case, on the building. With plenty of onlookers. And a white target that will earn you 50 bonus points!
There was no option of running home to change. It would do no good to get angry or to scold him for something that in his culture is a total right of passage. What else was there for me to do, but laugh?
This is Missions. These are moments that I’ll talk about for years to come. This year, this journey, this life… it’s not about numbers. It’s not about keeping track of every soul “I” save. It’s not about asking myself at the end of every day, “How many times did I mention Jesus today?” It’s not about doctrine or religion or, really, even faith. It’s about relationships. It’s about loving people. It’s the incredible relationship I share with Jesus Christ that makes me want to have that same kind of relationship with every person I know.
Is that an invitation to pee on me? NO! But it’s a challenge, to myself and to anyone reading this, to take a step back from the rat race we can sometimes make out of mission work. Or out of life, in general. Productivity, or what we think should be the ultimate outcome of anything we are involved in, should never be prioritized over the relationships we can build along the way.
People matter. Even if they pee on you.
Be Blessed,
Ashlee
