We arrived at the slums not really knowing what to expect. As we walked into an open area filled with trash, the street boys greeted us. To be completely honest, there is no way to describe the boys we met and the brokenness that overcame me when I saw them. Just writing about them brings me to tears. These young boys, most 13-16 years old, are homeless, dirty, shoeless, and addicted to drugs. They clung to coke bottles filled with fuel-drenched rags that they constantly sniffed to mask their hunger pains. They desperately sought affection, attention, and love from us because they have always been ignored and unwanted.
After we greeted them, we walked with them (in what feels like the longest 10 minutes of my life) to the program location. These young boys clung to us as we walked, wanting to hold our hands or have our arms around them. They continued to cling to the fuel-filled bottles.
When we arrive at the program location, a 20ft by 10ft open area between slum houses, the boys waited while some of us cleaned up their wounds and some of us helped cook food for them.
When the food was ready and the gospel was shared, it was time for the hardest part: taking away the bottles. Watching as the men in charge of the program took away the fuel-filled bottles was heartbreaking. There was fighting, screaming, crying. This was their most important possession and it was slowly killing them.
Finally, the boys settled down and we brought out the plates of rice. This was probably their first real meal since the program last week. They quickly ate what we had given them and grabbed the extra food until it was gone. The boys said goodbye as they walked away looking for a new bottle to put fuel in.
Heartbroken.
That is the only way I can describe the feeling that I had coming home to the house my team and I are staying in. I laid in bed and prayed “God, I know I asked you to break my heart for what breaks yours, but this is too much. These boys are so young. It’s not fair.”
I’ll admit, it was hard to see how we were helping at all. The boys would have still been fed by the people who run the program, whether we were there or not. The enemy definitely was trying to convince us that were not helping and Jesus was not involved.
After listening to my team voice their concerns and reasons for not going back to the slums, I immediately felt God telling me why we had to go back. He told me that our job was not to feed the boys or bandage their wounds. He said that sometimes being His hands and feet is not tangible. Our one and only job is to love them like Jesus loves them.
Love like Jesus loves. That is all Jesus wants us to do!
After a lot of prayer, my team decided to go back to the slums. This time, with hearts that looked a lot more like Jesus. We loved these boys like Jesus loves them and it was so wonderful!
Below are pictures from our second visit to the slums:
