Here I am! Jeffrey’s Bay, South Africa on the World Race. This crazy thing they call The World Race. Someone pinch me because it still isn’t real.
Team Wimbi is serving in several ministries this month along with another team, Wildfire. Blessings upon blessings being here with them. One big, happy, crazy family.
I spent my first hour of ministry forking motor oil out of a paintbrush at the construction zone for the Global Leadership Academy (GLA). The GLA is a unique school to Jeffrey’s Bay staffed with Christian professors teaching a public school curriculum. Throughout our week there, we hand-sanded and painted decks, dug trenches, washed windows, painted…and then painted some more. We had it made. Laid back ministry days with tea time and long lunches followed by evenings full of walks to the most majestic beach, local internet coffee shops and Billabong factory outlet shopping.
Is this seriously the World Race?
Nope.
Up in the mountains of rural Jeffrey’s Bay is an old, seemingly forgotten about, delapidated nature educational center that we transformed into Turning Point Camp. I don’t think any of us knew what was in store for this week but God did. From the outside, I saw autumn in Pennsylvania, felt the chilled air on my face, and was in absolute awe of the Creation surrounding me but my soul was not ready
to experience the darkness, the brokenness, and the loss that arrived when the children did. Turning Point is for children ages 13-17 that have been exposed to drugs, alcohol, and gangs, that have lost parents to murder, or have parents that are physically, mentally, emotionally and sexually abusive.
The heaviness in the atmosphere is suffocating. The children are out of control and beyond excited for camp. Our team is slowly losing their cool and are confused about the role we will play during this week. The plumbing is back up and the water from the sink has a slight brown tint. Three of our teammates are sick with fevers and throwing up. The food is…well…is sustaining us. Our joyful spirits are diminishing and it is only day one. We all feel the effects of the enemy trying to work his way into our hearts and minds. So we pray. Boldly, intentionally, fervently, and passionately.
The second day brought a new beginning. A turning point, if you will. Jace walked the perimeter of the camp praying over the ground, for each child there, and the serve team.
We were now ready. Kind of.
As I learned more about these precious gifts from God, the more inadequate I felt. Who am I to come into their lives with my ‘God is good and everything will be just fine attitude?’ A girl with absolutely no exposure to drugs, alcohol abuse, gangs, abusive or deceased parents. A girl raised in a loving, Christian home with everything I could ever want or need. Where do I fit in here and how do I even begin to relate or form relationships with kids that grew up in a world that was only ever a tragic story to me but an absolute, painstaking reality to them. A reality that told them that they are not loved, that dreams don’t come true, and you will never amount to anything in this life. I pleaded to the Lord to give me His eyes to see them. And He did. Words cannot accurately describe the love that instantaneously grew inside of me. Words cannot describe the anger I had for what had been done to them in the most vulnerable stages of their short time here on this earth. All I could do was love them. Love is all I had.
In the wise words of our host momma, this is when you roll up your sleeves and get dirty. This is what you signed up for. The World Race is not hanging out in an internet cafe and sipping lattes. This…right here…right now is the World Race, so get ready.
