December 30, 2020

The simplicity of the gospel is a beautiful thing. I feel this is a forgotten message for the more affluent church and the message of truth should not be confused with religion; there’s a difference. Religion follows a rulebook. A pocketbook full of memorized stories, laws, practices, fancy words, expectations, consequences, and worst of all a human and fleshly twist to a heavenly revelation. The message of truth, however, strips everything away. There is nothing that you can do that will make you appear “better” in the eyes of our Lord, and there is nothing that you can do that will drive Him away from you. Once He lives in your heart and you receive the truth that he’s rescued you and brought you into the Father’s arms, the gospel message has been shared and received. That’s it. Church, take notes.

            This is not to disregard the beauty in following the Lord and the obedience that grows from that relationship. There are incredible changes that occur in response to having a relationship with the Lord. However, Jesus says in Matthew 18, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”

John 14:6

Joshua 1:9

Genesis 1:1

John 3:16

            The joy on these kids’ faces I tell you. Unmatched. Did they know English? Some, but not much, so most of our interactions with them were through our actions and drawings. We sat with the street kids for the first half of the morning. These kids are literally homeless, living under a bridge, sleeping in the dirt, and running on the rocks. There is a drug that is popular here called stika (stee-kha). It’s similar to jet fuel, and kids will have it in empty water bottles or rags that they just sniff and get high. every. single. child. had. a. bottle. Literally all the kids between the ages of six and eighteen were high as the sky trying to take the edge off. Many of them have wounds that are weeks old that haven’t healed, and flies like gather together on them, weepy and red, eating away at the available nutrients. That’s a picture that I can’t get out of my head; it was absolutely disgusting. As one can imagine, there was also an incredible stench. They all smelled the same so I assume it was the smell of unhygienic children. Dirty, tattered rags as clothes, maybe had one shoe if they were lucky, mouth sores, ripped toenails, “tattoos” (scars burned onto the skin), stunted growth (a fifteen-year-old boy looked maybe eight?), skin and bones, and absolutely no hope.

            But, they definitely lit up when they saw us. Munzungu (Moo-zoon-goo) is the name they call white people so that’s all that we heard during our time. We were underneath a bridge next to railroad tracks playing and interacting with these children; they looked at us with awe and wonder – it’s very possible we were the first white people they had ever seen. They were infatuated with my blond hair and couldn’t keep their hands out of it. At first, I was hesitant to dive in and get dirty, but that barrier was quickly torn down as this was all the kids had. I can chill with them for a little right? Not a big deal. We were told to not wear any jewelry, bracelets, earrings, necklaces, or anything that could be removed off of our bodies. The kids could be pretty forceful and might just take something from us.

However, we did have one thing with us – a bible. The kids that I talked with were tearing through the pages looking at the English and begging me to read them something. This took me by surprise, but I was absolutely more than happy to share Jesus with them. Many of the kids knew who Jesus was but some didn’t, and my team and I was able to encourage the little ones and share good news. Because of the language barrier, I ended up drawing crosses in the dirt and telling them about Jesus that way. It was so simple – just a dirt cross and the knowledge that Jesus loves them lit up their world.

Many of them knew Jesus to be a protector and a provider and that he loved them very, very much. They trusted in him and loved him back and asked for me to pray for them. One of the kids, maybe fifteen, had an infected mouth sore and asked me to pray for healing over him. They believe in the power of Jesus and were so on fire for him – it honestly surprised me how much they loved him and how much he meant to them. What else do they have to hold on to?

These kids end up underneath this bridge one way or another (parents die/don’t want them, abusive households, better opportunity to eat on the street, etc.) and they are never there because their life is going just dandy. They legitimately have nothing. I don’t know if you can fathom that because I certainly couldn’t before this trip and I’ve been to a third-world country prior. They fight for their next meal, take the next sniff of stika, and wait for the next opportunity to close their eyes and lay their heads down in the dirt. What is there to live for? Who is raising you? Who is loving you? Who is comforting these six-year-old children? They’re left to the elements. They are looking for any hope to cling to. Any promise that things are going to be ok. (insert Jesus)

In America, we have it all. The basic and the beyond. I am blown away by the life we were just born into and the opportunities that are laying at our feet, waiting for us to pick up any number of them. My eyes have been opened to the belief that God is not needed in the states because we can “help” ourselves. That is very much the attitude of many Americans; we can provide for ourselves and have no need to trust in anyone or anything else. Why would I? I can do it all, right? Why would I need to place my trust in a god that I cannot even physically see or talk to? It’s just a religion that creates a sense of hope for the poor.

            My heart burns for the American people and the sense of independence they have created for themselves. The more we accomplish the less we need God. We’ve seen that happening since the beginning of the nation, no? Well, for these street kids, Jesus is all they have. Can you imagine if Jesus was all we had? Oh, how we would rely on him for everything. Certainly, you don’t have to be poor to make Jesus all you have – it’s just easier.

            These kids cling to the message of hope because that’s all they have. They need a relationship with Jesus because the relationship with their family has failed. They need Jesus to be a provider because no one else is. They need Jesus to be a protector because the bridge doesn’t offer much. They need to live for another life other than the one they’re living. It’s no longer their life and what they can do with it, but rather their Father through them, encouraging and loving them until the end of the age when they can rejoice with him and live forever in heaven. That’s what they have to live for and that’s the hope that they cling to. It’s beautiful.

            One boy in particular stuck with me the whole time and drew crosses with me and said “Jesus loves me, I love Jesus” over and over. Towards the end of our time, he found a piece of metal out of which he made a perfect cross. He wanted to give it to me to remember, but I refused. Would I have loved to keep it? Absolutely. Did he need it more than I? Absolutely. I was in love with his sweet heart and unhampered joy. Jesus’ love shines through in a multitude of ways.

            I want to be abundantly clear: we did not visit these kids as “white saviors” and try to fix their situations. The organization that works with the children, Footprints, works to help get them off the streets. We were simply there to lift up their spirits, encourage their souls, share the good news of Jesus, and learn more about our Savior, his love, and how he remains the same in every situation. It was a new exposer experience for me and my team, and we were all emotionally drained. It was a heart-wrenching experience, but it was much needed. God wrecked our hearts.

            One of my team members, Kaelan, was sobbing when we were leaving, and I asked why. She said that one little boy she had been talking with at the end of our time had given his life to Christ. He said that he wanted Jesus and immediately threw down his bottle of stika and had the biggest smile on his face. He followed us back to the bus, smiling and waving the entire way. Kaelan had been touched so deeply by these kids and she has a special place in her heart for them. Mind you, she has never been on an airplane before this trip, let alone out of the country.

            It wasn’t just Kaelan who was crying, but many other members were touched by our experience with these street kids. It was something that we had never seen or been around before and it showed me just how good Jesus is. It’s easy to say God why would you let us live such comfortable lives when there are kids starving without parents living on the street? Why do they have to live a life of struggle and we get to live a life of plenty? Because God is good, that’s why. If we feel bad about our own lives, then that suggests that we don’t trust God’s plan to do what is best for his children. Same goes for the street kids: if we continue to question his sovereignty in their poverty, then that is distrusting the almighty. God works all things together for the good of those who love him and no amount of guilt or sadness is going to change that. Remember, if you think you love someone, God loves them a gajillion times more and they are fully known by him. He knows every in and out of those street kids, their history, their needs, their desires, and he promises to be with them always until the end of the age. Our responsibility is to share that message, not question or doubt the goodness of God.

In the afternoon, we went to the compound. This is the lowest of the family poverty in Lusaka. Many of the street kids ran away from homes in this community and most Zambian’s refuse to enter into it. It’s similar to Samaria in Jesus’ time if you are familiar with the relationship they had with the Jews. People would take different roads that led around Samaria so that they did not have to walk through it. No one from outside the walls walks into the compound by accident. The residents are pretty much outcasts.

It’s so hard to describe without actually seeing it with your own eyes but I will try my best. I have never in my life been in a community like this, but this is how I envision some communities in Jesus’ time being. The entire compound was surrounded by stone walls to keep residents in and outsiders out. It’s maybe a square mile in size. Once we started to walk inside, children took notice super-fast and flocked to us. Houses were little stone buildings all smooshed together super tight with strange shape, structure, and colors. But they all had one thing in common: they were dirty and old. The roads (they were really walking paths since no one owned a car) were all dirt and filled with rocks and mud puddles. There is nowhere for the rain water to drain so I can only imagine how bad it gets in there when it pours. Small businesses are intermingled with the houses and laundry is strung from building to building. There are hundreds of children milling around, either following us or getting a better look. The entire time they continued to follow us around, vying to hold our hands and get in close. The parents seemed not to care where their children went; they couldn’t leave the compound. We made our way through, watching children stare at a munzungu for the first time and watching them get absolutely stoked. Most of them had only ever seen munzungu on television and the fact that there were some in their village was world-changing for them. Remember, not even people in their own society will walk through.

I do not say that to toot horns or anything, but to explain how much of an impact just running with the children can make. They might ask why we were there, and that would be a perfect time to share the gospel with someone. If not, we are still able to make a positive impact on their lives by loving on them and doing what no one else is willing to do. There were a few different times where I felt like this is exactly something that Jesus would do. When you think about it, Jesus hung with the outcasts, the dirty men and women, and loved on them. He wasn’t too clean, he wasn’t too busy, he wasn’t too good. He was just love. And that’s how I felt walking through the compound. As much as I was able to learn about their life, I was also able to share the love of Jesus with those people which brought me so much joy. In addition, the crowds flocked to Jesus and the little children ran to him when he walked through towns and villages. This experience gave me a little better picture of what that might have looked like for him. Again, not saying we’re Jesus, but the positive impact and news that he brought drew people to him as they were drawn to us. “Why are you here? What do you want? What information do you bring?” All good questions to ask simply because we were there hanging out with them.

We walked for maybe two hours in the compound, dancing with the children and waving to the adults. Most people in Zambia are very welcoming and hospitable (a part of the African culture) and they smiled and waved back at us. I had hundreds of kids playing and messing with my hair – good thing it’s not super long the tangles would have been astronomical. It was an absolutely incredible experience and nothing like I had ever seen before. It truly made me think of Jesus, and I felt like I was able to relate more emotionally to the impact he had on the towns he visited.

Again, it was hard to peel away and leave so many bright faces behind, but we’re not there to try to make their life a version of what we believe to be better. They are in the all-mighty hands of our savior and he loves them more than we could ever comprehend. Today was an emotional and eye-opening day, and we were able to share testimonies with the group which helped my team to process at little more of what we really just went through and saw. I have a feeling that this trip is going to be a lot of experiencing and processing, but what’s some growth without growing pains? God has called me out of the comfortable and into the uncomfortable, and living that kind of life to him requires some deep-down obedience and love. It’s not going to be easy (obviously) but it will be rewarding, that’s for sure.