I was ready to feel horror, anger, sorrow…but completely caught off guard by the love and joy that exploded in my heart. We were hoping to have 40 kids, young children identified by the wonderful local ministry partners (the CHES) as having the deepest needs---OVC’s, orphans and vulnerable children…instead we had 150. Our plans changed minute by minute as small, beautiful, barefooted kids filed in to our VBS one after the next until we had a huge crowd…one our crafts supplies could not accommodate…but the love of Christ from pouring from each team member did. Oh these kids were so excited we were there and though they didn’t speak English communication just was not a problem. They were precious, filled with joy and jumped wildly into each activity. 9 team members, and five CHE’s to 150 kids…every arm and lap overflowed with children.
My mother’s eyes locked on to one special little guy. He was one of the youngest (maybe two), and seemed to have wandered in alone. He was standing still and looking lost in the happy chaos of the games and crafts. He did not look happy. I picked him up and he tilted his beautiful face back to look at me. I have no idea what he thought (these children rarely if ever see a white person)…but one thing I knew, he was a sick little boy. He had a fever and I could feel the rattling infection in his lungs. His nose was running and he was exhausted. His little pants were wet with urine. The wonderful and fulfilling demands of our time didn’t allow me to go sit and rock him to sleep as I would have wanted to. I held him through the games, directing a play, and telling those little ones so dear to Christ, the story of a great King, who came from the greatest most glorious riches and power to be born in the dirt and filth of a barn, so that we could know and love His Father, and have all eternity with Him. My little buddy stayed quietly and contentedly in my arms, until it came time to line up for a half,(yes we only packed enough food for 70 children) a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich, he hungrily ate his half, and then our camp was over and that little, sick, barefooted toddler walked off alone. After the children left, our team walked in the rain (how appropriate), to the home of one of the CHES whose son had just committed suicide so that we could pray with her. On this walk, through the squalor, in the rain…I began to process and my prayer was simply “Lord, what is this joy? I should be bawling, overwhelmed by the suffering, angry, full of despair…numb at least…but love, joy…how? Why? What is this Lord???”
God’s voice and answer came to me the next day, in the gentle, quiet way God usually speaks to me. Staring at an amazing, South African horizon the Holy Spirit reminded me of Matthew 25:37 ‘Lord, when did you we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ “ The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’ In my mind, somehow, I had always translated that verse in a way that said…”whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, it is LIKE you did it to me. How wrong. In Sweet home, handing out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and cuddling that little boy in my arms, I was with Christ, feeding Him, visiting Him, loving Him DIRECTLY and that was my joy. My time in S. Africa and was truly the one of the most powerful and real ways that I have ever experienced the love, joy and fullness of life that I have longed for and too often missed as a Christian.
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