“A muzungu a muzungu”, a tune so ingrained in my mind it goes somewhat unnoticed as I walk into a home that looks more like brick and cement ruins. I look around the room and there’s an old woman greeting us from her blanket on the dirt floor and a few wooden stools for guests to sit on and that’s it. The children who followed us there gather in a shadowy corner on the other side of the room from where I now sit. I see their ripped clothing, ashy skin, and big white eyes immediately begin to captivate my heart. I don’t know them but I know that I love them deeply. But that’s not what we’re here for. The small group leader opens up with a worship song. I find myself standing up, the hot sun coming through the gaps in the ceiling beats down on my back as I breathe in the dust dancing in the rays of light, but the sweet chorus “my God is so good” manages to escape from my lips. I can no longer tell if its sweat or tears rolling down my cheeks but I know I have never meant those words more in my life. I sit back down on the stool and my thoughts return to the little ones still peering from the edge of the room. I begin to wonder what their stories are. If only I could distinguish the orphaned street kids from the others, but it would be useless to try. They all appear to need love, yet somehow they seem so happy.
There are so many children in this town, they easily outnumber the adults. I feel my heart begin to break as I walk home. That tall one there in the yellow ragged dress carries the weight of the world on her shoulders and she’s someone’s little girl. There’s a child carrying her baby brother on her back, no shoes on their feet, no parent in sight. Orphaned, sick, hungry, cold, and alone. Stolen childhoods, babies robbed of their innocence and joy. What difference do I make, why am I here? All I can think is this life isn’t fair. Lord where is your justice and mercy? Please rid me of this despair and return to me the joy and hope of your salvation. I thought I wanted to see the world through your eyes but it hurts too much.
As I reach the place where I am staying surrounded by huts and what seems like a village of children, the tiniest one runs towards me and throws his skinny little arms around my legs. His big eyes and giant smile and soft brown hands reaching for mine brings me back to my senses and then I am reminded I am right where I’m supposed to be. As Christ was sent into the world, I too have been sent into the world (Jn 17:18) to preach to the poor and heal the broken hearted, to proclaim freedom to those who are captive, to comfort those who mourn, and to love (Is 61).       

“Is this not the fast I have chosen: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free, and that you break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out, when you see the naked that you cover him and not hide yourself from your own flesh? Then your light shall break forth like the morning, your healing shall spring forth speedily, and your righteousness shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your guard…” Is 58:6-8.

“A muzungu a muzungu”, a tune so ingrained in my mind it goes somewhat unnoticed as I walk into a home that looks more like brick and cement ruins. I look around the room and there’s an old woman greeting us from her blanket on the dirt floor and a few wooden stools for guests to sit on and that’s it. The children who followed us there gather in a shadowy corner on the other side of the room from where I now sit. I see their ripped clothing, ashy skin, and big white eyes immediately begin to captivate my heart. I don’t know them but I know that I love them deeply. But that’s not what we’re here for. The small group leader opens up with a worship song. I find myself standing up, the hot sun coming through the gaps in the ceiling beats down on my back as I breathe in the dust dancing in the rays of light, but the sweet chorus “my God is so good” manages to escape from my lips. I can no longer tell if its sweat or tears rolling down my cheeks but I know I have never meant those words more in my life. I sit back down on the stool and my thoughts return to the little ones still peering from the edge of the room. I begin to wonder what their stories are. If only I could distinguish the orphaned street kids from the others, but it would be useless to try. They all appear to need love, yet somehow they seem so happy.
There are so many children in this town, they easily outnumber the adults. I feel my heart begin to break as I walk home. That tall one there in the yellow ragged dress carries the weight of the world on her shoulders and she’s someone’s little girl. There’s a child carrying her baby brother on her back, no shoes on their feet, no parent in sight. Orphaned, sick, hungry, cold, and alone. Stolen childhoods, babies robbed of their innocence and joy. What difference do I make, why am I here? All I can think is this life isn’t fair. Lord where is your justice and mercy? Please rid me of this despair and return to me the joy and hope of your salvation. I thought I wanted to see the world through your eyes but it hurts too much.
As I reach the place where I am staying surrounded by huts and what seems like a village of children, the tiniest one runs towards me and throws his skinny little arms around my legs. His big eyes and giant smile and soft brown hands reaching for mine brings me back to my senses and then I am reminded I am right where I’m supposed to be. As Christ was sent into the world, I too have been sent into the world (Jn 17:18) to preach to the poor and heal the broken hearted, to proclaim freedom to those who are captive, to comfort those who mourn, and to love (Is 61).       

“Is this not the fast I have chosen: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free, and that you break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out, when you see the naked that you cover him and not hide yourself from your own flesh? Then your light shall break forth like the morning, your healing shall spring forth speedily, and your righteousness shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your guard…” Is 58:6-8.