In my blogs, I don’t usually like to give a play by play of what is going on day to day. But I think the past 24 hours deserves it. In Kampala, there are hundreds, maybe even thousands of kids on the streets. Every kid has a story. Most people can’t even imagine life as an 8 year old being homeless. We can’t even wrap our minds around the details or the little things to think about.
Last night, a team of 7 of us went out and slept on the streets with our friends. There were many reasons why we did this. We were filming footage for a documentary about the night of a street child and what they have to go through to survive. We also are spending most of our time doing ministry to street kids and in the slums, but none of us have ever experienced anything like that. But last night we did, we spread out a cardboard box and had a slumber party with about 20 homeless kids.
To rewind a little bit, when we were getting ready to go, Katie looked at me and just said
“There are a lot of things that I imagined for my life, but sleeping on the streets with homeless kids in Uganda was not one of them.” We didn’t really go in with too much of a plan, other than that there were 6 mzungus, 1 translator, 1 abaana staff member (Peter), and our friend Robert going out. Peter and Robert had picked out a place for us to sleep. It was on the sidewalk, in a well lit area. When we got there, there were already loads of kids sleeping on the street. We picked our corner and sat down, making friend with the kids around us. We actually didn’t know most of them.
The first two hours, were so funny. There was so much shock. The shock pretty much lasted the entire night. You would roll over from sleeping and open your eyes, and there would be just a small crowd of people standing back staring at you.
I saw so much Jesus last night.
First of all - I have been cursing the tower of Babel lately. It has been such a hard thing to be living somewhere and not know the language. You never know if someone is telling you that your pants are on fire or if they are hitting on you. As well as, I just want to know these kids so much deeper and I am tired of having to ask somebody to constantly translate. But last night, I learned that love transcends all languages. You want to love someone, meet them at their lowest point, somewhere they will be shocked to EVER see you there. That’s how you love. It’s not whether I can have deep conversations in Luganda or in English. It’s about meeting them in the ugliest place where they are at.
Secondly, our friend Robert just straight up showed me Jesus last night. Robert works with the street kids and used to live with them on the streets, but now has a home where he keeps many of them. He is familiar with the streets, and he can handle himself. I’m not gonna lie, there were parts of our night that I didn’t really know how to feel. There were times when I’m sitting there thinking - um maybe I should feel scared right now...like when the boda boda man just sits there for 40 minutes after you’ve told him to go away and is staring at you while blowing kisses, or when the police come and try to kick you off the streets, or even sleeping openly in a place where we are the only white people doing something that Ugandans have never seen before. All throughout the night, Robert was shoo-ing people away from us, and constantly checking on us, and protecting us. I constantly heard his voice, I knew he was protecting me, and I trusted him. Then the next morning I found out that he had turned down the money offered to him to do that, and had done it for about 5,000 shillings which is about $1.77.
He stayed awake all night long to watch over us...for nothing?! Talk about a watchman. Last night, Robert paid the price so I didn’t have to. Jesus paid the price so I didn’t have to.
Thirdly, most of the night I slept like a baby.
Fourthly, I felt like I belonged there. Find the least of these, and that’s where God dwells. “Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for their is the Kingdom of Heaven.” I was in the Kingdom last night.
I would do it all the time if i could, sleep on the streets that is. That is love. Straight up, real love. The kids are so unreached too - the 20 that slept near us were unfamiliar with all three organizations that we represented, and we were able to connect them with places they can go 4 times a week to get food and get in the WORD and to be loved. A lot of the kids we work with have been on the streets for awhile, and so they know the programs. The kids we slept with last night were the babies. The 10 year olds, the 8 year olds, the 12 year olds...the kids who are still scared to sleep on the streets because they haven’t adjusted yet. The kids that are still wearing the shirt that they were wearing when they lost their home. We were even able to talk to one kid who has a good family, but got left on the streets by a neighbor and can’t make his way back home. Tonight, he is in the Abaana boys home. Monday, he is going home.
In one night, so many lives were changed. Mine included. I’m tired of being selfish with my life. I’m tired of having these human eyes that sleeping on the streets of a foreign city with hundreds of orphans and homeless people is dangerous. Jesus didn’t love cautiously. I have a love worth dying for. A love that is worthy of me dying to my selfish self, and getting dirty as I go and meet someone that is so lost they can’t even see a path ahead of them.
In the morning, we woke up and we went and collected bottles and scrap metal with the boys. We spent two hours collecting bottles, and each boy made about 500 shillings, just enough to buy themselves breakfast. Most of them collect all day, so that they can afford to eat during the day. Then they go back to the streets at night.
Last night, I did something that I had never done before. Last night, I did something I never thought I would do. Last night, I suffered for Jesus.
All day today, I have felt the urge to complain about how tired I am. I just keep thinking about every single boy that slept next to me last night, as they go back to the streets tonight. As they sit there amongst the heavy stench of gasoline and fuel, as boda bodas zoom by, as the police come by and kick them out of wherever they are sleeping, as the light from the stores shine right into their eyes, as the clubs and restaurants pound music all over the city, as they shiver (yes, it was cold) because they have nothing to sleep on or under - yeah, I’m about to get in my bed.
Please be praying for our friends we made last night. That they will find our programs and God will start transforming their lives. I’m watching Him do it every day in the kids around me. I’m watch HOPE be born and HOPE move and HOPE create and HOPE change and HOPE be rejoiced in.
“The righteous give and don’t hold back” - proverbs 21:26
I always tend to think of this verse in money or material things.
What about myself? What about Mallory? What part of Mallory am I holding back from God, and from the world? I can’t give only what I want to give. Jesus didn’t pick what he wanted to give. He gave it all. Then sent EVEN MORE in his Holy Spirit to come abide with me and love me.
God, sow righteousness in us.
