Newsflash: Jesus is alive and active. (pics to come)
So far on mission, I’ve been blessed to stay in South Africa for month 2 and I haven’t even made it out of little ol’ Pretoria. I’ve gone from POPUP ministry in the township of Salvakop to BEAM Africa ministry in the township of Nellmapius – all within the city of Pretoria. The two places seem worlds apart.
I’ve seen some pretty bad stuff out here. Heartbreaking. But do I serve a good God?
I can honestly say I love poor people. I am so blessed to be in their presence. I am so blessed to be working for them, serving them, and amongst their children. I am so blessed to open up my arms and my heart because they are so rich in the spirit.
When I say “poor,” I mean living in a shack…and by the way I’ve seen bigger, nicer toolsheds in California than these shacks. When I say “poor,” I mean dirty, smelly, clothes full of holes draped on the thin bodies of barefoot children. You get the picture.
There is nothing like meeting the humble and the poor. I consider it God’s blessing to me.
It is no sacrifice to be here with the least of these people, it’s an absolute honor.
As of last week, I have a new friend. (I’m totally in love with kids, by the way.)
It started with a love letter of sorts: a neatly folded coloring page handed to me by an amazing girl. She sauntered and snuck up behind me while I was holding a baby. She managed to squeeze herself between the back of my plastic chair and the side of the building. Her hands immediately went to my hair as she laughed and exclaimed how soft it was. Needless to say, she was very puzzled when she would braid my hair “Afreekan styyyyyle”, as she’d say, but my hair just wouldn’t stay!
I accepted the little letter, and tucked it away. My new friend asked me my name, and I asked her hers.
“I’m Tshiamo, it means ‘everything is going to be alright’…” she smiled.
God has a tendency to speak to me prophetically through very sweet little girls and coloring pages. (This happened to me before in Mexico too, and I still have that coloring page saved in the pages of my journal from that trip.)
Yesterday, I was taken by the hand by my new friend at BEAM Africa, 12 year old Tshiamo (pronounced Tee-ah-mo, kinda the way you say “I love you” in Italian) to be a part of the youth group. Be still my little heart. Youth group! Awesome possum!!!
“C’mon, c’mon…join us…we’re doing life skills, you will love it! “
Our hands entwined, I ventured down a narrow hall into a small room with her. The little aluminum door swung open and I saw young, beaming, black faces in their colorful clothes packed in like sardines in a can. A sea of beautiful young people parted to make way for me and give me a place smack-dab in the middle of the floor.
I shimmied in and broke into a sweat.
I am not joking, these kids were stacked up on top of each other along the wall in chairs, some of them had little baby brothers and sisters on their laps and the rest puppy piled on the floor space! It was actually an awesome sight to see.
Bickering was minimal, even if it was hot and everyone was sweating and wriggling to get comfy.
My heart melted, and my little friend snuggled up to me on my left, and new little friends snuggled up to me on the right, at my feet and against my back. All eyes were on me, and bursts of giggles were not being suppressed very well.
I was put on the spot to share from the Word.
Tears started welling up in my eyes as my mouth smiled. All these young people were happily crammed in to hear the word of God.
Now that’s what I call being rich.
