When you’re traveling, you start to realize that the books you read in school, or the history you learned was maybe a little right. Life around the world is different. Cultures can be like a completely new world. But reading a book or listening to a lecture is so very different from living in a village in Southern Africa.
Culturally, in Botswana, adults don’t give children much acknowledgement. Children are taught to make little eye contact, and when passing on the street to keep to themselves. Adults don’t play with children, not even parents. When you get to a certain age, you’re expected to act it.
Affection is all or nothing. Physical touch is associated with sex, and mothers don’t even kiss their babies. So children aren’t used to hugs or snuggles. Abuse is normal in homes, so children don’t always know who to trust and who not to.
Botswana has on average 500 abductions a year. It’s normal for people to hitchhike to work because not everyone has a car, or enough money to get where they’re going. But that runs a risk in itself. People are often abducted for body parts. They use them for witchcraft, as some women practice it in the villages. These women are known as syngomas.
HIV aids is very prominent in this culture. One in three people has it. And it’s deadly. It attacks your immune system, and a simple sickness can turn fatal if you have HIV. It effects the body an extreme amount, rashes, growths, debilitation. Once someone has it, the chances of living are slim.
Learning about our differences made me appreciate Jesus’ love even more. He wants us to feel loved and give love freely. Learning about the culture we’re living amongst, it’s beauties, and the cracks in it makes me want to share the love the Father has. In a community where you may not be acknowledged because you’re a child, or you could be abducted for body parts, or die from HIV, inspires me to share not just any sense of hope, but the one only God has for us.
Traveling all the way from my home to this one to give the love the Lord has given to me is a blessing I can’t begin to describe.
So, friend, instead I’ll try and walk you through a slideshow of moments that made me feel my heartbeat deep and slow. Moments I know the Lord gave me to give to others. Moments that shed even specks of light in the darkness.
I remember seeing the surprise on the locals faces when I started dancing with the kids at church. They were playing African worship, singing and whistling over and over. The little girls in my row and I came up with our own dance moves, mimicking each other as we followed the beat. Though any dance move I tried looked way better on them. They had such a natural rhythm and sway that I only wish I could catch.
The more I danced with the girls, the more girls danced, and the more the adults in the church began to shed a smile. A ripple effect. Starting a small train of joy in yourself that reaches those around you. Especially those who need it.
And then there was that second I gave Khumo a soft hug and kiss on the cheek, reassuring her how much I appreciate her. She works at our ministry site, helping with cooking and cleaning. A young mom of 2 girls, working hard to make ends meet. She’s got the brightest, most revitalizing smile. That smile grew even bigger when I passed some love her way. My host mom told me “that meant more to her than you’d ever know. She probably doesn’t even get that from her mother.”
Another moment I walked into the store, lighting up when I unexpectedly bump into Khumo and her daughters. She leans down and whispers something to her 4 year old. Her little girl hesitantly walks my way, and as I lean down to meet her, she leaves a sweet, gentle kiss on my cheek. A ripple effect. A little love here, given over there. My heart grew in size in that moment as I saw what kind of impact something so small could have.
Now everyday when Khumo leaves the house, she says my name and blows a kiss my way. You should see the joy in her face when she does. It says “I know you see me, I know you love me wholeheartedly. There’s a wall you’ve torn down, dear friend, one that held me back from giving and receiving the kind of love I deserve.”
My team and I held a movie night in the village. Our host has a projector and screen, accompanied by large speakers. It’s a treat for the people here because they don’t have much access to such a thing. There was a group of 10 year old girls near me and my friends. We giggled and made jokes with them, and they opened up as we did. A couple of them crawled over to find a place in our laps, and we embraced them with warm cuddles.
I warmed this little girls fingers as we all watched the movie outside through the darkness. And then her hands covered mine, warming my fingers too. A ripple effect of give and take. Warm my fingers, I’ll warm yours. Our bellies started to rise and fall together, syncing our breaths and our spirits. I took a deep breath as I remembered that she probably doesn’t get this at home. She may not even have three meals today. Or a bed of her own.
What if these little moments of love were something these people had been searching for their whole lives. For someone to just acknowledge that they were there. To acknowledge that they needed love and that they were worthy of it. For someone to dance with them, to kiss them on the cheek and let them know they’re dazzling and captivating, for someone to warm their fingertips and make them feel important.
But none of this is about me. It’s not about what I’m doing, or what I did in those moments. It’s about recognizing, receiving, and giving love. It’s about God. It’s about Jesus. It’s about seeing the cracks and filling them in the best way you know how. Even if they’re small. They’re still important, just as you are. It’s about shedding hope in a place that needs it.
It’s about ripple effects. And the more you give out love, the more love that’ll continue to flow. And what are we doing on earth but to give and receive love anyway?
