Tanziwe Walking

     Our gates are blessed with a fairly steady flow of visitors, hopeful entrepreneurs, and beggars.  Sometimes it is difficult to know the difference without conversation.  Tanziwe visits about once a week. She is often waiting outside at the perfect time for my weekly veggie shopping. Her tall thirteen year old figure is frail but strong. Her clothes are worn or torn but I can tell there has been an effort to be presentable.  Sometimes I bring her lunch or a snack and some water.   She likes to accompany me, carry my bags and bring home rolls or extra veggies as a thank you. The first time she carried my bag it was a bit awkward for me. “Great” I thought. “As if I am not a big enough spectacle, now I have someone following me carrying my bag.”  Tanziwe’s reality put my humility back in it’s place.

     You see, Tanziwe represents a large demographic of girls out of school because the family could only send the boys in a particular year. Sexist or not, families have to make hard decisions for survival.  Tanziwe, at such a tender age, out of school, is at risk of early pregnancy, prostitution or forced labor. Her family might consider her a burden soon and force marriage by 16.  She may or may not eat in a given day while mom is away on business or selling and her brother is attending school.

     My selfish intuition raises irritation sometimes when I just sit down for lunch or a school lesson and Tanziwe or another visitor arrives.  The mere exhaustion of deciding… do I give?  Is this person in danger?  Is there an addiction I am feeding if I give?  With Tanziwe, I have learned to repent greatly. She is a precious child of a king.  Lord how do I serve her best today? Can I make a longer impact? How would you love her?

     I have decided to meet Tanziwe’s mother and brother. I would love to sponsor this beauty for school this next season if her mother can’t.   I have to set aside my western way of thinking and rebuke the instinct to just “make everything ok”.  My definition for what they need or want may contrast greatly with their ideas.   In addition, I am learning to act only after prayer and understanding of the whole situation.   I should never react in this culture, unless there is a life or death situation.   I may end up hurting the child or family with my good intentions.   Maybe there is an attendance problem because Tanziwe is too far behind in school to be able to complete current work.   Maybe there are small ones at home she is responsible for during the day.  It’s possible there is so much more to her story than I know.

     I wish I could tell her I admire her strength. I wish I could hold her and tell her she is valuable, smart and important…I have not overlooked her.  Today, as she is walking away, I am prying for peace and protection for this child of God. I am praying for my own wisdom on how to love with Christ’s love. He brought her to my gate, over and over again. It’s as if my Lord is reminding me of his precious girls in this culture and writing them on my heart.  Loving is not easy, simple or mass produced. Tanziwe walking away, the sun setting before her leaving a slender black figure of strength and endurance, will forever sit in my heart.  I feel the massive presence of something big, as Tanziwe is walking.  

Jesus in the Trash

Dear Friends,
Thank you for your grace and patience as we get our feet under us in this culture. I have actually posted twice, but internet failure caused it not to save! I think God really wanted us to wait, be quiet, and let him settle us in.  Please know we are safe, our home is becoming home, and we have figured out the whole water thing. Electricity, well....take a look at Harmony's fun little video posted on our facebook page.  She gives a cute look into how we live. 

There is so much beauty here. I love watching babies with mommas in church, women display the strength of two men carrying their water supply for the day or the raising of the orange sun over the purple Jackorranda tree out my kitchen window.  More information will come on the beauty and blessings here. I am feeling lead to share one of my first and ongoing training sessions with Jesus.  

One picture in Harmony's video, is a blunt reality into our world here.  The trash on the opposite side of our back wall serves as a constant reminder we are in a third world culture.  It's not fun to walk past and often over or through bottles, wrappers, rotten food, worms, bugs, human waste and other unmentionables. The smell alone steals all our attention for the 30 seconds or so until I get by. I abhor the trash on the street here.  Believe me I have asked God to shift us to a different home and he says, "No, not yet!" (Please know that we are safe from the smell on this side of the wall, I think by God's mercy alone.)

I head around the trash whenever possible, avoid it all together. No matter how I travel towards town, I have to deal with walking around, through or over the trash. It's around this burden that I usually see children sifting through for bottles they can wash and sell or a street man, whom Zambians call the local crazy.  I was so convicted about passing this man by, everyday, that I started to leave an orange here, banana there. I even left him flip flops once, which I never saw him wear.  He usually doesn't look at me. He just keeps picking at the rotten food he found.  God gave me such a beautiful picture through him.  What if he was Jesus? What if he was quietly watching and observing people passing him by everyday, me passing him by everyday?  How would I want my Jesus to see me respond? I can tell you I haven't responded that way yet.  It's hard. It's difficult to predict. Is it even safe?

This last time I passed through, fighting the urge to hold my nose, He stood up and smiled, looking just off to the side. But he smiled in my presence.  I dare say he had joy in his step, before he found another cozy place in the cement bin. Had my minimal fruit given him joy? No, I think it is my ability to see him that promoted the smile.

My point in sharing is this is...look. In every culture there is trash. Here, it's laying out for all to see. Here, there is little room to hide behind materiel things, careers or business. It's blatant  Still, trash is trash. I feel challenged to look. I feel challenged to see. I feel God's leading to understand that I have trash too. 

The question God set before me is, am I content to dig in my trash and eat whatever I can find? Or am I hungry for nourishment, fresh food that only God can provide?  My soul needs spiritual food and life through nourishment of the word and dwelling in his presence.  If I am to live and minister here, I need to be nourished and strong. Second, I need to see.

More to come!  Love from Zambia.

Pictures say a thousand words!

Zachary peacefully waiting for everyone at Namwianga.
He and Harmony shared a song with our visiting group before leaving
giving God the glory and trusting Him for these babies.

Victoria Falls in Livingstone

We have pictures from Zambia!   Internet is up and running and we are getting our home functional.  I wish I could write every financial partner and prayer warrior that helped us come to our new home here in Kalomo. We are so amazed by the Zambian people. We are in love with babies at the orphanages.  Look at more pictures on flickr. More to come. Love from Zambia!





Seth Laughing!



Harmony loving on Marcus.
She loves to make him giggle!

Gabriel holding baby Christopher.
He's a pro. He gets whom ever he chooses
out of their crib and just loves on them.

Which one is Gabe?
 Love the backyard playground.