su casa no es mi casa

Wednesday is our outreach day.  We pick a certain area or sometimes even select certain people that we need to go visit and pray for.  I have been into the wetlands a handful of times now, but never all the way to the back.  Where the actual wetlands are.  Many years of building on the wetlands have "raised" the actual level of the ground about a foot or so above the actual water level.  As you get back towards the back there has been less building up and so the houses are actually built over the water as well as the walkways between the houses.  There are some drainage pipes and ditches here.  I don't know where the water comes from, but they are always full.  Actually they almost always appear to be stagnate.  It is not the smell of sewage, but the smell of foul, stagnate water that always seems to permeate these water ways.  It's a hot day.  That doesn't help the smell.  Occasionally the South East wind blows and cools things off a bit.  I see the tall green grass that signals we are coming to the end of the houses and where the wetlands start.  We drop down to water level and the trail becomes a bit of a muddy mess.  Thankful that I remembered shoes this morning and not my normal flip flops.  The smell is still there.  We are walking next to the still water, black water.  We eventually step up to some raised walkways between the houses.  They seem unsteady, like any step could be the one that you leads you down into the water.  Its still there.  Each of the cracks or holes you can look down and see the black water.  The smell is also still there.  We make a few twist and turns.  I am hopeful that I am not the biggest guy that has walked here.  Trusting that these planks will hold me.  Last thing I want to do is loose my group that I am with in this maze of twist and turns.  This would be the ultimate harvest maze to try and get out of.  We find the house and enter.  Also a raised floor above the water.  As I enter the house moves.  As my friend comes in I feel the house move again.  It is similar to kids who have built their own tree house.  My eyes adjust from the bright sun to the dim lit room.  Its technically a home, but suffice to say there are bathrooms bigger than these houses.  It is the width of two twin beds pushed up against the far wall.   They sit atop milk crates. Its almost double the length of the beds. There is a dresser table against one wall.  Designed to be a place for women to sit and do their make up.  The mirror is cracked.  Shoes are stored below as well as a tub for the baby.  On the other wall is a hutch.  It serves as the kitchen.  It's broken chip board mostly.  Not even sturdy enough to sit on.  This could very well be the cupboard from the nursery rhyme starring old mother Hubbard.  Its bare.  They walls are made from cardboard.  There are large circle disc about the size of half dollars on the floor.  I trace them up to the ceiling, it's sunlight, peaking thru a line of small wholes in the roof.  Great for natural light like today, but what about winter when it rains.  A dirty bean bag sits in the middle of the room.  They only thing apart from the beds to sit on.  I squat on the floor.  Its covered in plastic.  Maybe that helps with the smell as I notice it smells a little less at the moment.

She lives here with her 4 children.  I don't even know her name, but refer to her as so and so's mom. Why is she here.  Where is the father?  Or is it fathers?  She lives off a child grants for the children.  Its not much.  $30 buck a child maybe.  $100-$120 a month.

Where do you begin?  How do you help.  Sure if it was one house it would be easy.  Its a sea of houses.  More people coming from other parts of Africa to come and work here in South Africa every day.  How bad must things be elsewhere that this better?

We pray.  We pray for work.  Pray for God to reveal himself to her.  Pray for husbands to raise up and take their place.

This is what we do.  We visit.  We point to Jesus.  We disciple.  In the midst of the junk.  We believe God will meet people right where they are.  We believe God sees, we believe God cares, and we believe God is compassionate and loving and so we will continue to go where he leads.

Shelby

Shelby and Andrea are the directors of Isithembsio (Children of Promise).  Our mission is to love and care for the vulnerable in practical ways.  We mentor, advocate, help in crisis, and assist with meeting basic needs; such as food, clothes, proper shelter and school uniforms.  Our biggest passion is that the least of these will be leading their generation in following Jesus with transformed lives.  Discipleship and creating a community of Jesus followers is foundational to all that we do.  For more information on Isitithembiso, check out www.childrenofpromiseafrica.com.  For more on Shelby, check out www.therenderfam.com

 

Treasure Hunting

Treasure hunting is one of the tools we use when doing outreach in our local communities.  The basic principle is spending time in prayer before going out into the streets. Asking God to specifically speak to you about who he wants you to find and talk with, pray with, or share with. I have seen him answer in different ways. Sometimes a name, sometimes a place, maybe a color, maybe all of the above. Today we were praying in our Masi meeting before going into our community. I got a picture of one of these little red motorcycles that the little kids scoot around on. We recently bought one for Finley.  I am a little new at this and sometimes even a little nervous to share things. "What if Im wrong?"  So instead of sharing, I wrote it down in my diary.  Kids red plastic motorcycle.  We walked around a bit.  Saw a few kids, a few people. Saw two men sitting under some shade working on something. A big pile of yellow metal buckets in the front yard. The team had all walked past and almost walked by when I looked down and noticed a kid sitting on a red plastic motorcycle. I called over one of my teammates and showed them what I wrote down. She immediately knew what it meant and began speaking to the men in Xhosa. I dont speak Xhosa,  but after awhile both men stood up and took off there hats. We prayed with them, that they would find work and be able to make some money.

I love being able to shake someone's hand and say God cares about you.  He brought me here to tell you that.  He wanted me to find you.  Hes after you.

Needless to say I will come back next week and see if we can continue this relationship.

God cares about the people of the world. All of them.  Wherever you are, you can ask Him and he will show you.  Write it down so you can show the person.  We have the privelege of being his hands and feet in this broken world. 

Whose up for some treasure hunting?

Fresh Coat

We were asked to help out with one of our new trainings at All Nations.  They called it the village experience.  The students would be asked to enter a "village".  They were given a map and told they would have one day to enter the village and begin making disciples.  The only rule was they could not lie.  The "village" was other All Nations staff.  We had a village chief and a sangoma.  We were a matriarchal society where the men served the women.  We had costumes.  We prayed, worshipped, and made sacrifices to our God, the snake.  We even had our own made up language.  It was a really fun experiment.

Most of the morning was just introductions.  They were trying to figure out who we what and what we believed.  We slowly began to pick up some English words, but more often then not would just say them and laugh.

We worked a little faster than you would experience in a real village as we wanted them to practice all facets of making disciples.  At one point we were sitting and listening to them tell us about their God (we had a translator), they mentioned the word repent.  One of us repeated the word back to them but changed it to repaint.

I sat and thought about that for a minute.  Repent and Repaint.  I haven't gotten to much into the origins of the words, and maybe its a bit of stretch and I just had too much time on my hands, but I like the similarities.  Repent is to feel sorry, self-reproachful, or contrite for past conduct; regret or be conscience-stricken about a past action, attitude, etc. (The Greek word used most in the New Testament for "repent" means "a change of mind")   Repaint is to simply paint something again.  Maybe it was old and chipping, maybe you just didn't like the color, but for whatever reason you are going to stop with the current color and change to a new one.  Repenting is very similar. Maybe you have made some really big mistakes, maybe something small, but for whatever reason you want to stop and change the action or behavior.

Start each day with a fresh coat of paint.

"Repentance is as much a mark of a Christian, as faith is. A very little sin, as the world calls it, is a very great sin to a true Christian."
Charles Spurgeon