It’s absolutely amazing the provision of God that falls so terribly out of our standards of timing and so perfectly within His. Our squad wasn’t sure what we would be doing this month or even where we would be situated. Eventually, the nine teams on my squad were divided between four countries: Zimbabwe, Botswana, Zambia, and South Africa.
My team, Degel, and three other teams are in Pretoria, South Africa for our first month of ministry. We’ve teamed up with a ministry organization called People Upliftment or PopUp. Blessed is too ingenuous a word to describe what it’s like to be here. The people we’re working with are so wholeheartedly in love with their ministry that the work they do goes beyond being just a job. The love and hospitality they’ve shown us is exactly what I imagine Christ intended for the church. The way they’ve split us into different areas of service exudes their sensitivity not only to our talents and strengths, but to our passions as well.
I’ve been paired – or “slotted in,” as our facilitator, Russell, says (and a side note, I love the way South Africans speak) with Adult Education Training (AET). AET classes basically prepare adults in math and English so that they can move forward to skill training classes (kind of like technical/vocational training). Russell explained that of those who are tested for placement into skill training classes at PopUp, 95% score below the 7th grade level in literacy though they hold a 12th grade degree. The remainder score at or above the 7th grade level and are the ones who qualify for AET classes. So, for financial reasons and a lack of necessary/properly qualified staff, PopUp is only able to help 5% of the people who walk through their doors.
That’s 95% of people who walk in with dreams of a job, of providing for their families, of a better life. That’s 95% of people who walk out having been pummeled with the harsh reality of life in South Africa: that they’ve lost another chance, one that maybe seemed to be their last, at taking a step closer to a place of hope. They live day-to-day, hand to mouth, allowed only to be concerned with immediate needs, not even immediate wants.
That’s 95% of people who view potential as a luxury.
I know that word gets thrown around a lot, even by myself, but think about it for a minute. A little girl reads To Kill a Mockingbird in school, thinking that maybe one day she can be like Atticus Finch and represent those whose voices are heard but not listened to – potential is what allows for that dream. Don’t get me wrong, I know that the availability of opportunity plays a heavy hand in the whole process, but if the potential doesn’t exist, the opportunity is never even a consideration.
It breaks my heart that 95% of people who come in with hope leave without it, and I cannot imagine how much more it hurts Russell and the amazing people at PopUp who interact with such people regularly.
“Shoot for the moon, and even if you don’t make it, you’ll fall among the stars.”
When I was little, I wanted to be a paleontologist and uncover the remains of an undiscovered dinosaur; I wanted to be an interior designer and masterfully decorate homes to automatically elate and relax their inhabitants; I wanted to be a writer and pen stories that would stay in – and to a certain extent shape – the hearts of my readers forever; I wanted to be a real-life Atticus Finch, advocating for the rights of the oppressed and downtrodden all over the world.
As farfetched as some of those wishes seem to me now, the truth is that they were never completely out of reach. I dreamt big dreams that were far away from my immediate realm of possibility, yet I understood that they were not completely unattainable. That, for me, is what made (and still makes) dreaming worthwhile. Every dream is attached to potential.
I pray the next two weeks of working with these AET students will be insightful, reminding me to be immensely grateful to God for the potential that I’ve been able to make good on, and provoking my mind to wage forward in the fight against the luxury of potential.
