My time on the race thus far hasn’t been defined by big moments. It has been defined by small conversations. Most of these conversations aren’t spoken. The feelings are conveyed through smiles, tears, glances, and laughter. It is a hard thing to describe.
As I became acclimated at our ministry in Mozambique, God quickly placed several of the boys/ young men at this organization in my heart. The first is an older teenager named Luis. On day two, Luis went to shake my hand, then at the last second pulled it away.This was followed by roars of laughter from the other boys as they ran away, and I was left there looking stupid with my hand out. It was Luis’ smile that set him apart. I think his smile is often mistaken for joy. He is a jovial young man, but its almost as if he is laughing at the world. Like he has something figured out. Whether he knows it or not, he has immense potential. I have tried to tell him that he is smart, but he just smirks and gives me a look that says “Yeah, I know”. Yet, Luis is humble. While getting details on the boys is difficult, I was able to find out that Luis grew up in a nearby ministry. His mother was or is a prostitute. Despite the deep seeded pain that is rooted in his reality, Luis remains someone that I inspire to be more like. Resolved.
Another boy here is a young teenager named David. Unlike Luis, David’s smile radiates joy. Its woven into the fabric of who he is. David knows no other way to be. He isn’t joyful to bring attention to himself, or even impress the new Americans that have shown up at his home. He simply loves to be happy. It made me ask myself what was different between the two of us. While I am still trying to figure it out, I think it boils down to choice. David chose long ago to live in joy. Looking inwardly I haven’t always made that decision. The boys know I am a police officer. They seem to enjoy that fact and “Kevin” was quickly replaced by “Kev” or “Police”. They don’t call me by my name as often anymore. David later came up to me and said in broken english, “Me…me police too”. I then found out that David wants to be a police officer to help his community. Mozambique can only be changed from the inside. People of joy can make that change. People like David.
The third teenager is Bruno. He came from the same ministry as Luis. His mother was/is also a prostitute. I have seen him smile only once since I have been here. He video chatted with my parents and seemed to enjoy that. But he is struggling with his new home here, and I think there is a lot of pain behind his eyes. He has yet to open up to us, so if you could pray for new opportunities to connect with him, I would greatly appreciate it.
It is the little moments that have defined my time in Mozambique. Moments like teaching Luis guitar next to what I later found out was a fire containing our dirty toilet paper. Moments like David hitting you and running away so you will chase him. Moments like the rare smile from Bruno that I can’t seem to forget. How will I ever forget them? When 10%of my salary could so drastically impact their life that it would change the course of their entire existence? These boys know struggle. They know pain. It leaves me thinking that God’s power is shown in that struggle, but his love is seen in their survival. Places like Beacon of Hope Africa make a difference. You can see it so clearly when you’re here. My impact here is still a work in progress. For now, I am just enjoying the little moments.
