Found You, Jenna

It has been over two weeks now, since we met outside my house. I wrote about you in my blog the same day, about how much I was looking forward to meeting you the next day. I came out twice to look for you on the scheduled morning, you were not there. I thought of writing my next blog saying “oh! Well, she never came”, but my sixth-sense held me back.

Just yesterday, I was driving back home from salsa class in the evening with my friend Sandy, I pulled by for her to get some stuff from 7-11 and a homeless man came and started bugging me. I was irritated so the way home, we began talking about the homeless people in Muizenberg. I told her about you, that you were special and I had made an appointment with you, but we lost each other, you never left my mind.

This morning, your sun burned-face flashed again in my thoughts, I had many occasions to give out the stuff I had packed for you, but something in me, a precognitive sense knew I had to wait for you.

So as I pulled my car out of the drive way today, I noticed a group of homeless people digging into the trash bins. And from a far distance, someone began to run towards me. First, I didn’t make the connection, but when you started calling out: Sister, Sister…I came to look for you the other day!!!
Suddenly I realized that the strong sense I had earlier in the morning was a spiritual reminder, a forecast that I would see you again. So when I told you to wait as I switched off the car and went back into the house, I knew you would love the surprise I had for you. I couldn’t wait to see that burst of joy again.

So dear doughnut reader, I came out, little did Jenna know what she was about to get! I had packed a suitcase full of clothes for her. When she saw the suitcase, she beamed and froze simultaneously. She impulsively gave me a hug, I hugged her back. She ran across to the opposite side of the street and pulled her trolley closer, she then mounted the suitcase on it. The cutest thing was that she waved her friends goodbye, job done for the day, sorta…she carried on giggling till she went out of sight.

I am so glad I found you again Jenna.

Missions or Madness?

Today was one of those days where my head simply just got buried in work. Whew! I had to pull myself out of the office to go home for a lunch break. By the way, I realize how blessed I am that my home is not far from my office, so I get to walk back and forth - my only exercise at the moment besides my dance routine plus, I eliminate commuter commotion, as well as save some petrol.

You know that feeling of when you are certain that it’s just a matter of time before you have that conversation with someone you act as though you don’t see or notice? Say amen if you relate.

So I get to the front of my gate, and I see this gentleman. He lives just two gates away from mine, even though I don’t recall how many faces I have seen go in and out of that house.

He increases his steps to catch up with me when he saw me approaching in the opposite direction. I greeted him first. He went on to ask me if I was from Ghana, I said no, I am from Nigeria. Then I asked him where he came from (obviously I knew not from South Africa). He said he was from Kenya. I immediately attempted speaking the little Swahili I had picked up….I said “Karibu” – Welcome and “Asante Sana” –thank you very much?

I told him that I traveled to Kenya several times last year, and he asked me what I did for a living. So I told him I was a missionary. He had this quizzical look on his face, then he said “but you make a lot of money to travel a lot? I said “No, I actually don’t even get a salary, I love working for God’. Boy, you should have seen the bemused look on his face. His next sentence was “how do you eat… does God literally come to put food on your table?… I want to witness that…”
I have to tell you that by now I was totally digging the conversation. He wasn’t trying to be cynical, he genuinely thought it was absurd, out of order and terrifying to not live on an income.
He continued by asking how long I had lived like that, and I said “about 8 years”. Then he looked as if he’d seen a ghost, it was hilarious to be an observer of the moment.

Just then, Gabriel from YWAM base showed up, so I told my neighbour that I would love to share more with him about how God cares for his children, and how to live by faith.

The moral of my narration... suddenly, I realized that what has become normal to me is insanely petrifying to an average man on the street. I realized how far I had come to be at peace with the fact that I need to let God control my life, even though I daily take responsibility for my choices and how I live and conduct myself. Or maybe I am the one that is crazy?

A Dignified Appointment

During breakfast this morning, I read an inspiring article from Joy Magazine. The crux of the write up was that “we all need help”. Ok, let me back track a bit...
I live in Muizenberg, a multi-ethnic, broad-based suburb with extremes ranging from cool surfing culture, to tons of homeless people and dodgy guys parading the streets. I some times catch myself crossing to the other side of the street when I see shady or drunken men. I try to avoid any conversation or eye contact, as some of them are simply not sane. Just the other day my office was broken into, and so, certain uneasy feelings tend to get reinforced, apparently a reason to be more prayerful in order to inhibit the budding desire of fear’s rule.

So here’s where my story starts. As I opened my gate to leave the house for work, I noticed an unusual string of homeless people searching the trash bins that have all been lined up outside for the municipality services to empty (we take out our trash every Wednesday - thanks NK for doing it faithfully through the years).
Suddenly my eyes met with that of a petite, older woman who had just crossed over to dig into our trash. Instead of disconnecting the eye contact, I sustained it, and in my heart, I became aware of a human being made in the image of God, not the label that she represented at the moment.
She spoke up first and said “sister, can I get some old clothes?” part of me was very relieved that she did not ask for money, because some times it simply means supply me “a dose of drugs”. Despite her dull skin and withered countenance, I saw a genuine spirit shine through her smile. Then I realized that we had “connected”. I loved it.
With slight hesitation, I replied her saying “I am late for work, but we could meet same time tomorrow morning, in front of my house because I want to put together some clothes for you”. She immediately bolted with joy, it was contagious. I felt a surge of warmth run through my heart as I walked away, it was love.

I was so grateful for the opportunity I was given to practice “seeing a human being first, before whatever labels the person represents”. She gave me an opportunity to grow in my area of “need.” She made my day! I am looking forward to tomorrow’s appointment, as though I am meeting with a V.I.P. I hope she remembers to show up.

God is Visible

Since 2009 started, a part of my heart has been wresting with the question of “How can one sustain a relationship with someone you do not see? And in this case, that someone is God.
Supposedly, our relationship with God is a faith journey. I don’t know about you, some times faith to me is almost synonymous with foolishness, and at times a constant clash between head and heart.

This morning, I woke up and started reading my bible with foggy eyes, jammed mind and a half-paralyzed body. By the way, I am currently reading from Matthew. When I got to verse 25:31-46 (an analogy we know so well)….goats and sheep and all that…where he separates the sheep from the goat, and thanked the sheep for giving him food, clothes, hospitality etc.
It suddenly hit me that God is Love and Love is God. Every experience of love is an experience of God!!! (Whether one is the giver or receiver). But we have heard many times that we cannot see God, true! but there is another side to God, He daily reveals himself in human form! …through the eyes of the homeless, kid, through the wrinkled face of the dying HIV positive woman, through the eyes of an abandoned baby, through the eyes of the stranger seeking direction to the train station. Not to say he is found only in places of need, even in the eyes of the rapist, the dictator, the drunkard. God is in every human being!!! It is logical to reach out to needy people, How about the prison part of the story?

Can I look beyond the prison/bondage of people and see God waiting to be discovered in them?
The irony of the story is that in most cases, I don’t see God in the “man on the street”. I see a labeled person, and perhaps the problem, ignoring the image of God in them. I get so preoccupied with trying to get through my day and I sometimes just don’t see people (I mean God). How can I say I love God when I don’t love the people that I see?
1 John 4:8 says it best “whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love…”

It sounds so idyllic, until fear comes into the equation. It changes the whole dynamic. The world is full of evil people, with rebellion and brokenness everywhere… Do I have a legitimate reason to shut off from seeing God in people because of their messed up choices, lives, behaviours and addictions? Do people need to deserve or qualify for love before I love them? I don’t believe that when Jesus said “whatever you did to the least of these, you did to me” included a “qualifying clause” for love. I think that’s where my struggle lies.