I know this is almost two weeks overdue. Basically, I will paraphrase for you what I journaled while sitting on my roof outside my window, one night before Christmas Eve 2015.
“It feels more like summer than it does like Christmas. I sweated all day while playing with kids at camp today, and we had watermelon for lunch. As I look around me, the only thing resembling Christmas lights in any capacity are the miles of yellowish, glowing street lamps. This year, I didn’t have my usual Christmas parties. I didn’t decorate cookies with my family. I wasn’t wearing chunky scarves or sweaters or flannels. My nose wasn’t filled with the smell of cinnamon as I walked around my house. I didn’t even have the chance to get sick of the ten Christmas songs that 104.7 likes to play on repeat. There are so many things I associate with how this season is supposed to look, smell, and feel like. Maybe God has asked me to give all these things up this year for a reason. Without all the hype surrounding Christmas, you’re just left with… Christmas. Here, the only reason to celebrate is the sole fact that Jesus Christ was born on this day. Maybe, that should have been the only reason to celebrate all along. Maybe Christmas is more than feelings attached to traditions. I think I’m having a Grinch moment, because Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more than what I originally thought. Christmas, at the root of it, is a time we have to praise God for sending His son, and to marvel at the fact that Jesus really did come to Earth. That He is Immanuel, God with us. He is a personal God that came down to our very level, in the most humble of ways. It’s super cool, and it doesn’t need the lights or presents or cookies. The reality is, Jesus himself is enough hype to bring me joy in this season and forever. I believe that He has asked me to temporarily drop all that I know and love this season, so that I may know and love Him more.”
The week leading up to Christmas, we lead a camp in a neighborhood surrounded by violence. We played games, sang songs, did devotions, and tried our best to share the love of Christ with these kids that do not always experience it at home. The last night of this camp was Christmas Eve, when we put on a candlelit service for the community. We put together our own little band, and I got to sing for it! As my teammate was singing his song, we all heard the bone-rattling sound of a gun shot that couldn’t have been more than two streets over from where we were set up. Suddenly, the crowd we has accumulated scattered in fear, running to their homes, and leaving only a few. Our hearts broke for those individuals that were spending their Christmas Eve like that. All we could do was pray for the kids we had been ministering to, and trust in the protection of our God. It was in that moment that I saw the stark contrast between life for me at home and life for these people here.
As for an update… January is “womanistry” month! The nine boys in the house are gone to Lesotho, and I was asked to step up as team leader for the nine girls remaining here in Cape Town. We have done train ministry, prayer walks, and this week we are running another camp through an organization called Mt. Zion. Please keep team Girls in Motion in your prayers!
