They came in, boys of all ages. There were a handful of girls, though when
you looked in their eyes they looked more like lost, disillusioned bodies than
young women. They greeted us down the
center aisle, kicking up dirt from the bare ground as they walked. The air was
filled with the potent aroma of the industrial glue they tried to conceal in
their torn shirts and baggy sleeves. Their hands were gritty when you shook them, and they staggered and
swayed as they tried to tell you their name. We took our seats on the thin splintered benches that represented pews,
and quieted down. Church was starting.
This is Africa…T.I.A. as we
say. That means that anything is
possible. Anything. Contrasted to China,
Africa’s atmosphere is that of freedom;
freedom to worship, freedom to sing, to dance, to pray. Unfortunately where there is freedom, Satan
brings his bag of tricks to bring oppression.
Upon our arrival, our contact, Pastor William, told us his
story about how God placed his church in the middle of the poor area where all
the street children lived. I did not
realize until church yesterday that the street children were all that made up
his church. It was both encouraging, and
heartbreaking. Even though there were
about 30 people there, probably 90% of them were high and could barely tell you
their names. While they were singing the
songs and reciting memory verses, I couldn’t help but wonder how much do they
actually understand? How much could they
when they sniff glue everyday of their lives?
Regardless of if they understood words, I knew they
understood love, touch, and affection, and that’s what I tried to bring. I befriended one young boy, probably around
the age of 11 or 12. Sitting next to him
I could almost hear his heart crying out for someone to care, and all the while
he had his bottle of glue close at hand, always ready to bring comfort, to dull
the fact that no one has cared. While I
was praying for him, I literally felt like I was in hand-to-hand combat with
the enemy for his soul. I felt the lies
the enemy was telling him, and I felt his sense of hopelessness. So I prayed freedom. I prayed freedom from the bondage Satan has
put in his life, lies about drugs, hunger, and unworthiness.
My brother Brandon of team Karis invited everyone to receive
Christ and to be free from those lies. My friend ran up to the front and received prayer. One young man even fell over in the Holy
Spirit…at least I think it was the Holy Spirit and not the drugs. But though my friend was eager to receive
Christ, he still was not willing to lose the comfort of the glue. I realize a change like that will take time,
but there are three weeks here with these boys. God is so ready to move in their hearts. God is ready for them to come into his arms. God is ready to bring them freedom!
