“Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart.” Man I am glad that scripture is true. Much of our time up till now and after this will be spent on the street working with the street boys and in the slums. I am very glad that God sees things in a completely different way than we do. Our eyes can deceive us. We value clean, new, and wrinkle free. However, it is the heart of these boys that is the most beautiful.
We are a part of a group of ministries working with these kids. Sunday we were working with a group called Tomorrow’s Heroes. Tuesday we worked with Abaana. Wednesday we went to work with Frontline, a ministry of Calvary Chapel, but the work was run by Peace for Africa’s Children. Friday will be the same and Saturday is Frontline at the church. All of these organizations are working to bring the love of God to those who are most often overlooked.
So, what does it look like? Sundays, we are in the slums or on the edge. We set up shop just behind a church that lets us use their facilities. Above us on the hillside are the back of the buildings from the city. Look to the left and you see an abandoned, broken, and condemned apartment complex. Look to the right and you see the beginnings of all of the inter-connected slum houses. Yeah, the ones you may have seen before. Tin and aluminum pieced together to form walls and ceilings. We stand and wait in a small 50 by 30 yard dirt field. Slowly the boys come walking out, cautious at first to come and see new muzungu friends. Their clothes are torn, half hanging on their shoulders, down their chests, and covered in dirt. Most come without shoes, but there are those who come with one, and then others who happen to have two, maybe not a matching pair but two none the less. The dirt is everywhere. There is no way around it. Today, it has started to rain just as we are about to start games. So, we get the kids inside the classrooms of the church to play cards and just try to talk. Sometimes it’s hard to have a conversation, not just because we speak different languages, but because your attention is drawn to two who are fighting. However, it is what they know. They fight, not just each other, but for their lives. Eventually, we get some games started among the 5 small groups. Now you see beyond the outward appearance. The smiles come out and the laughter begins. If you closed your eyes, you would have no idea where you were. Next we gathered them in one room. Today there are about 45. One of the volunteers is giving them a message about heroes of the Bible. The boys listen and then shoot their hands up when asked a question. After the talk they are again broken up into small groups to have a chance to ask more questions about what was said and to make it easier to feed them. Rice and bananas are passed to each person. As we finish up I see Katie, she has been tirelessly sitting in her little medical station, a bench in the corner, putting on bandages, cleaning wounds, and touching them with the love of God. As we get back together as volunteers to discuss the work, we hear that 1 boy, here for the first time, has asked to know more about Jesus. 3 others has asked Christ into their hearts. Each is assigned a person to follow up on them next week and see about getting them to a church. 2 others had questions of a deeper nature and have again prompted the discussion of a discipleship group to start next week for the boys who are starving to learn more about God’s word. Names are thrown out of boys to include in it. Finally, we pray and are out the door to battle the traffic and busyness of a city that cannot see. It is a great day!
Tuesday we find ourselves on a larger than regulation dirt soccer field in the middle of the city, amid businesses and building. It has rained during the night which is only adding to the messiness. However, it is cutting down on the dust floating around. Some boys come walking up the hill from the main road to the field while others pop out from the shacks on the edge of the field. After many high fives and name asking a game begins. About 30 boys plus volunteers are playing. Off to the side, Mallory has a group of 10 boys playing cards. Katie is set up behind one of the goals on a tree stump. The game lasts for about 45 minutes and then they are gathered up for a devotional. Some of the boys I recognize from our work on the streets on other days and some recognize me. Abaana is the only one of the organizations to use all former street boys as their counselors and volunteers, and it shows. The relationships they have with them and their desire to see these boys come out of the situation they are in is amazing. The boys circle up on one side of the field and are now having a contest to see who can yell louder, “God is good, all the time and all the time God is good.” I have now joined Katie as she is finishing wrapping a foot up in a bandage and wrapping up her medical work for the day. As the boys are taught about God’s love for them and how they should love others, the rice from a local restaurant arrives. Mallory, Ryan, and Maria, our helper, translator, friend, and adopted team member, put it on plates to serve. More on Maria – surely God knew what he was doing when she was chosen simply to help us get around. She is involved in all the same work whether she is doing it with us or not and it is great to watch her get in and do some of the dirty work we can’t because of the language. So, I will speak about her as part of the team now, since she is. After the devotional is over the food is passed out. I can’t help but smile as I see little Maurice, probably 8, finish his food and start serving others. He goes around and picks up plates from those who are done with a smile. He is just one of the amazing kids who is learning to love. We give out our final hugs and handshakes as we head off through the city to catch the “bus”. Many of the boys follow us holding our hands and creating quite a stir as we walk along. They jump out in front of cars to block them so we can pass safely, guess they think the muzungus need help. And we do, as we are still learning to love. Once at the bus stop two of the boys who have made the 10 minute hike with us say bye and we head home covered in mud, dirt, and God’s love.
Wednesday we met up at Calvary Chapel. CC is doing a great job of reaching out and ministering in their community, not just to boys, but adults as well. When everyone arrives we hit the streets. 4 muzungus together, walking in places people don’t expect, always seems to get us a lot of looks. Through the alley and up the crowded dirt street we go, passing shops, and street vendors begging for our attention. Soon we arrive in the slums at the community center. The center is no more than a concrete building with rows of metal benches and one chalk board. The boys are laid out on the benches trying to sleep. Today’s group is full of ones we have not seen before, and they look even more beat down than the previous days. Their clothes are simply threads and early on there are not very many smiles, even as we try to bring them out. Soon the math lesson began. The boys went over their numbers and worked on counting. The team is spread out as we break into groups. Katie is up front in a corner working with another volunteer on their line of boys needing to be looked at that is continually growing. Mallory, Ryan, and I are each in a different group helping the boys go through their work sheets of math problems. I love math and so it was great trying to teach it. Mean while, Maria is gathering information from each of the boys to keep in the records. “Uncle, Uncle.” I hear as they are calling for my help with the problems. I had the chance to work with two boys who were struggling for about 30 minutes and then finally I think they understood. As Mukasa finished three problems correctly by himself he looked up at me with a huge smile. Katie soon caught my eye. She looks tired today and has been at it as the boys here have had more serious conditions. As she pulls of her gloves she tells me to convert the temperature of one of the boys who is having trouble breathing and has diarrhea. 104 is what I tell her. You can see the frustration she has as there is not a lot we can do for him. She takes a cold pack over and has someone explain to him to keep it on his neck. I decided to help her as a volunteer from Ecuador gave the message of God’s love. Many of the injuries are on their feet and are infected and dirty. I watched her as she asked each boy what their name was as they sat down in front of her and pointed to their injury. I watched as she touched them with the hands on God, softly cared for their sores, and blew on the places it hurt just as a mother would when she was applying the medicine. I held back my tears as a watched with the pride I have for who she has become. It is a long way from that little girl who hated me when I moved to White House to be her youth minister. The next boy up had an open would on his leg and as Katie rolled the medicine on, he began to squirm from the pain. As I stood there the only thing I could think of was to reach my hand down to give him something to squeeze. After two more applications and a little love from Katie in wrapping it up, I found Mukasa looking up at me and smiling as he let go of my hand. I had not realized it was my friend I had helped teach how to add earlier. Mother Teressa is often quoted as saying, “There are no great acts. Only little acts with great love.” I see that all around me in our team. The food was passed out and then it was time to scatter. We packed our stuff and headed back into the streets to wind our way to the bus park and the ride home.
Some days it is so hard to leave your new found friends to fend for themselves. It is hard to see them so battered and bruised from the world that has kicked them to the side. It is hard to see their wounds and the blood coming out of their fragile bodies and think they are OK. However, I believe there is a God who sees much more than I do, a God who is healing them from the inside out. It is evident in their smiles. Maybe my sight is being fixed. Soon I hope to have “cross-eyed” vision, and I am thankful for each little glimpse of Gods work that I get. See ya on the streets.
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