Remember how when I wrote about Namibia last time, I said I knew God had something big planned? Well, He certainly did. These past 9 days have been a whirlwind of opportunities and emotions. The Graham family, who was our host in Otjiworonga, Namibia, works with a group of people who live in “the Location”, basically where the black people live in tin shacks. Namibia is still very segregated due to the Apartheid, and as you drive, you can see where the white people live, to where the colored people live, to where the black people live.
Karrie works in two locations, in the dump, where kids go to dig through the trash to find food and things to sell, and also at Ombilli, where the families who dig through the trash mostly live. Our team split up into two groups, 4 to Ombilli, and 3 to the dump. At each location we played games, sang songs, gave a Bible lesson, did a craft, and gave a snack and juice. Before we started working for the week, Steve and Karrie drove us to the two sites to get a look and prepare our hearts. It was really, really hard. It seems that each country I go to I say “this was the worst poverty I’d ever seen”, but this truly was. Cambodia was the worst, and then Swaziland was, and now Namibia took the win.
I worked with the group of 4 at Ombilli, so that’s the site I’ll be writing about. Ombilli is scattered with tin, rusted shacks they call homes. There’s no such thing as “rooms”, it’s all one room, kitchen, bedroom, living room, I never even found out where the toilet was. These kids were so dirty. They live in the literal dirt, and it’s a desert, so there was constantly dry dust blowing everywhere.
As we were bundled up in our scarves and sweaters, they were running around shivering in their shorts and tshirts. Their eyes looked even darker in comparison to the gray dirt that caked their faces. The little ones just looked so sad. We did our best to love these kids until they smiled, and by the end of the week it was evident they knew they could always count on us for a hug, since none of us were never without a kid hanging on us.
We had decided at the beginning of the week that we wanted them to know they had a Heavenly Father who loved them, and that they were children of God. To do this, we had them memorize 1 John 3:1, “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God”. And afterwards, would say, “I am a child of God!” Our talks were about how we are each created uniquely, how much God loves us, that they are a treasure to God, and that they are princes and princesses because their Father is King. One day, we had them say declarations, and it was really cool to see how much yelling them confidently changed their demeanor. God really worked in their hearts to let them know when they said, “I am special, I am unique, I am loved, I am a child of God”, that they truly were those things.
I thought going out there every day would get easier, but it only got harder. There were certain kids that you know bad stuff was going on at home. Karrie and Steve explained to us one day that abuse is a common practice out in those parts. Women pretty much don’t have rights, and men can do whatever they want to women, no matter the age. That was a hard realization to swallow as we held little girls, knowing they are subject to that treatment every day. All we could do was pray, and pray we did. We also gave the kids a small snack and juice every day, and I’ve never seen kids gulp a drink so fast. I quickly noticed that there was no running water out there, and it’s a desert, so there definitely was not a water source any where. They would beg for more food, but if we didn’t have enough to give everyone seconds we couldn’t give it to a few, and that was really hard to say no to.
The last day was one of my favorites, we had cut out paper crowns that said “I am a child of God” and had them color them, and then we taped them so they could wear them. They were so proud, and it looked like they really believed they were princes and princesses. And I hope that even if it was only for that hour, that they really did feel it.
I’m not going to lie, this last week was a struggle for me. Every day I was out there holding the kids and praying over them, I always felt, why them? Why not me? The way they live isn’t fair, the danger they live in isn’t right, and the lack of love and attention they get at home is unimaginable. I still can’t wrap my mind around it, but as a wise friend told me, if you feel that, how much more must God?
And as I prayed that last day over one little girl in particular, I tearfully prayed, “God, protect her, let her know she is seen and loved, let her know it’s going to get better because you have good plans for her,” I was comforted with a promise, “I’m with her, always, just as I’m with you.” I believe in the goodness of God in the midst of tragedy, and so I’m holding onto that promise as Ihad to put her down, walk to the van, and drive away for the last time.
I may never see those kids again, but I know God is with them always, and I can’t ask for anything more than that. Because even if they don’t get enough food, don’t have water to drink, or are tragically abused at home, God is greater than that, and He will be their comforter and provider. And yes, part of me is trying to convince myself of this as I type it, because my mind can’t wrap itself around the fact that it’s the way it is. But I do know that God hurtsmore than I do, and He weeps with me. He wants them to be comforted, provided for, and loved more than I do, and my soul will rest in that.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30
God bless,
Jenna
