It was an administrative day for our Squad Leader team. We were in need of bottomless wifi and coffee that wasn’t instant. We parked ourselves at a coffee shop in the second largest mall in the Southern Hemisphere located in Durban, South Africa.
It was a long day of tedious work. On our way back to the hostel, we stopped by the hospital just a block away from the mall where on of my squad mates was waiting to get admitted for some tests. The insurance company and hospital were disagreeing on something, preventing a quick admittance, turning our quick hello into a several hour wait in the hospital lobby. We were becoming restless and hungry, so half the team was sent out to “hunt and gather” provisions for the team. We were needing to stay within our World Race budget, so four of us decided to walk back to the mall to get a family sized meal from the K.F.C.
Outside the mall there are countless homeless men, women, and children wandering and begging. We were approached by a one homeless man who was rude and made us very uncomfortable. As kindly as possible we walked away from him, but our we’re hearts hardened.
As we waited for our meal, we began to playfully create a game plan to safely deliver the “package” back to the hospital to feed our hungry team. It felt as if we were writing a screenplay for a bad action movie as we created formations and assigned roles. What started as a seemingly lighthearted and harmless conversation grew into a serious plan of action to try to keep our food away from the homeless.
Just as our plans were settled, in walked a girl in a purple turtleneck sweater and jeans. She is a few inches taller than I am, maybe 5′ 7″. She is of Indian decent with dark eyes and dark hair. I saw her approaching out of the corner of my eye and I tried not to look directly at her. I knew that if I did, I would feel the weight of our conversation that we had not 3 minutes before.
She slowly approached our table and handed me a letter. As I opened it she walked to a table 10 feet from ours. I read the letter aloud to my teammates, even though we already knew that she was asking us for help. The letter told us her name was Katherine and she needed money to pay the shelter a few blocks away.
Before even finishing the letter, I stood and walked over to Katherine. I introduced myself and told her that I couldn’t give her any money, but if she was willing to wait, I would love to share some chicken with her. I invited her to sit with us and I took the seat that was directly across from her. Katherine’s eyes were fixed on the floor and when she spoke it was barely a whisper.
I told Katherine that I liked her purple sweater; it was a nice color on her. She looked up at me with a sweet, genuine smile, and then looked back down at her feet. I continued and said purple is the color of royalty, and she looked like a princess. Her posture changed, her face softened, and she became more comfortable. My teammate Sara and I began asking her more questions about her life and her family. Katherine is only 18. Her only family is an older sister who has been in prison for a year and won’t be released until sometime next year. I asked if she had ever been to church. Her eyes grew big and her smile wide and she answered with a huge nod. She enjoyed church but didn’t have time to go because she worked all day everyday asking for money, trying to survive.
My heart was breaking for Katherine and her circumstances, but also swelling with compassion and love for this sweet girl.
Our chicken was ready to be carried out and while the team went to the counter to collect the bounty, I asked Katherine if I could pray for her before we left. I asked if I could hold her hand and she offered it cautiously. With her hand in mine, I brought Katherine before the Father. I asked God to cover her with love and comfort, to completely engulf her in His presence. I prayed that He would send an army of angels to protect her. I asked the King of Kings to overwhelm His daughter with love. I told her again that she is a princess, royalty in the eternal kingdom in the eyes of Jesus. I prayed all these things in the Lord’s name.
I looked up after we said “amen” and saw that Katherine had tears running down her face. She looked right at me and smiled. There was already something different about Katherine, the silent girl who approached our table probably with a lingering fear of being rejected for the thousandth time. The Lord spoke to His precious daughter through me. I felt and still feel so deeply the Father’s love for Katherine, a girl who had probably never been told that she looks like a princess. The Lord didn’t have to include me in loving on Katherine, but He invited me, I accepted and obeyed. I walked away feeling blessed, loved, and valued; all the things I got the speak over Katherine.
Meeting Katherine made me wonder how many invitations from the Father I have turned down because I’m too busy with my own life, fighting for my own comfort. But what right do I have to spend the time the Lord has given me on this earth to spend it fighting for a comfort that doesn’t exist this side of heaven? Instead, we as followers of Christ should be spending our time fighting for the eternal comfort of others.
Isaiah 58:7
“…share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless into your house; when you see the naked, cover him…”
Come, Holy Spirit, come.
