Longwinded Recap of South Africa:
Basically this last week my team and I hung out at a rehab center for drug addicts, gangsters, and other various misdemeanors. We were just required to hang out and love on the people there. However, I never expected to fall in love in a week.
But I did.
I saw grace, hope, joy, and love like never before. I saw redemption, potential, life-giving, healing in a whole new light.
The first guy I met there, Patrick, little did I know how much of an impact he would have on my heart. A former user of “tik,” or crystal meth to us, he has been in the program for 3 weeks now and to say that his life has been transformed is an understatement.
Our conversations were filled with his wonder of God, Christ’s love for him, and his new momentum in life for Christ. His love and amazement of Jesus really struck me. He was hungry for new life, ready to build his foundation on the rock of Christ and not on drugs anymore.
Even on National Braai Day, one of my teammates brought out his slackline and we all took turns trying it out, most of us failing, but Patrick kept at it, getting up over and over again, finally turning his falls into footsteps, and later he told me that he drew a spiritual lesson from that slackline, quoting scripture as he tried again and again, pressing more into the spiritual lesson than the physical one: hungry for God, in everything.
Who does that? My brother, Patrick.
And then there are the girls of Camp Joy who stole my heart in just a moment’s time. Farren and Melissa specifically were two girls that I got to know better than the others.
Truly, to see Farren’s quiet tears stream down her face as she opened up about her past, trusting us enough to not judge her, was humbling. She was originally was only supposed to stay for a week, get clean, and then go get a job afterwards. But after hanging out with the girls on my team and I, she decided she needed to stay longer. I didn’t know she had decided to stay longer because of us, but when I found out I knew that it wasn’t us, it was Christ in us.
I don’t know if Farren had ever experienced grace or mercy or love like she experienced with us. Asking to be a part of her messy life and then telling her that nothing she could do or ever had done could push us away. Just like we can never be separated from the love of Christ. I always told her how proud I was of her and her commitment, and to see her further commit and not give up was truly an answer to prayer.
Melissa has two children, and a hard past, becoming consumed with drugs to the brink of destruction, hence her entrance into Camp Joy. She wants her life back. She wants life for her children and to not be a drugged up mother, unable to provide life for them. She is a sweet soul, willing to admit her life is messed up, but hopeful in the future of what God is providing for her.
Even Sister Anthea, one of the ladies who works there, is probably one of the most encouraging people I have ever met. Her tender smile, loving embrace, sweet words, and raw vulnerability provided me with a picture of a woman who was serious about being used as a weapon for Christ. Her past was also a mess, filled with heartache and hard times, then filled with drugs and near hopeless existence, turned into a beacon of light, joy, hope, patience, and perseverance in all that she has gone through and will go through.
Sometimes, I’m not even sure what I was doing there, because they were encouraging me more than I probably was them, and I wasn’t shy to tell them so.
Then, Monday comes and it is time to say goodbye.
Watching Patrick wave goodbye as we drove away, and then hugging all of the girls goodbye one last time, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
I didn’t cry because I’ll just miss them, but more so because I want them to have a future.
I don’t want them to relapse or worry about falling back into that darkness.
I desire deeply for them to know life fully in Christ and never see drugs ever again as a coping mechanism.
But even in that I know that the realities of how the Enemy won’t leave them void of temptations to go back.
But even still I hope.
I hope because God is bigger. He knows. His glory will be known, regardless.
I love South Africa. Not simply because their singing and dancing blow all the U.S. worship styles out of the water. Not just because they address everyone as “my brother,” or “my sister.” And not just because their kindness and hospitality put southern hospitality to shame, but because those people will have a hold on my heart for years to come.
