6.27.09

This early morning (6:30 am) we went to a local church and helped prepare food for over 200 meals for street children and the forgotten elderly. I don’t use those terms for dramatic written appeal. Seriously, the children live on the streets in Block E and the elderly live in a home together where their families drop them off, the “nurses” take them in and lock the gate behind them. No one visits. No one washes them. No one helps them to the toilet in the middle of the night or washes their bedding. They eat one or two meals a day. They are wasting away, weighing on averaged around 80 lbs. They are forgotten.
I made an afternoon trip to the office to Skype with my dad and talk over stuff I’ve been learning. When we got disconnected, I started to cry. But that’s just where it started. For the next twenty minutes, I yelled at God. And I mean really yelled. I told Him I was tired of being so uncertain, tired of being the leader of the team and feeling like I am not allowed to struggle openly, tired of being lonely. So lonely. And I just wanted to talk to my daddy. I’ve never done this before, yelled at God, I mean. I expected Him to give me some cliché answer like “I am your Daddy.” But He didn’t. “Finally, you are being real with me.” That’s all I heard Him say. Then I got reconnected with dad.
In the evening, we had our Namibian family over for Namibian brie (BBQ). We ate Kudu and Spring Buck. It was delicious! And the bread they grill is so so good. Yes, I forgot about what I had seen that morning, too calloused to remember. It was great to have the house full of people and life. We really love these people. We can’t get enough of them. I know I speak for everyone. They are our family.