Looking to the Furture…

I wrote this for a church news letter when I returned. I decided I’d put it up as a bit of reflection after being back in the states.

When a child is born in Namibia they are brought into a world of few opportunities and a future of hardship. One in twelve will die during infancy, about one fourth will be orphaned, few will receive an education pass the elementary level, and at least in the Caprivi Region nearly half will contract HIV/AIDS. The kids at the Children of Zion Village had become a tally mark on the paper chronicling these grim figures and had they not come to the Village they probably would have been written into other columns and rows of statistics.
There is finality to numbers. They are concrete, predictable, and we take comfort in their stability. They order our world. 2 +2 will always equal 4, π will always equal 3.14…, and when the problems people face around the world get quantified to numbers we tend to accept the inevitability of their situation. It’s in the numbers, can’t change them. When some courage is mustered and solutions are explored they seem to take on a mathematical quality as well. Add dollars, subtract despots, add medications, multiply investment, add schools, divide cultural taboos, add hospitals and the numbers will change and problems will be solved. When the numbers do not change or shift in the opposing direction we tend to think of it as an error in mathematics. Apparently, we chose the wrong formula or plugged in the wrong values.
Statistics are revealing but they do not give understanding. Behind every tally mark, decimal, and pie chart is a child. For each figure there is someone who walks, runs, climbs trees, sings songs, skips stones, draws pictures, squishes bugs, laughs, and cries. Until you meet these people and live in their community you will not understand. They will be numbers and words; they will be pixel arrays flickering on a screen or ink smudged photos in the world section; they will be characters in someone else’s story. This does not represent some sort of moral deficiency but simply how people are. Our understanding only goes as deep as our experiences. The great misunderstanding about the poor in Namibia (and the rest of the world) is that we seem them as problems to be fixed and not as people.
The people at the Children of Zion Village, the Minks, the volunteers, and the staff do not look at the kids and see problems to be fixed but see people; we see family. These kids will never receive the love of their parents again but they receive the love of everyone who passes through that village. While the kids receive better living facilities, healthcare, and education than most of the kids on the other side of the fence it is the nurturing through love and faith that separates the Village from other aid programs striving to adjust numbers. Love and faith are the most important things invested in these kids and this type of investment is what will bring solutions to the problems that face the people of Namibia. It is an investment that does not simply keep the kids alive but will give them the opportunity to choose lives. If they choose to be it these kids are the solution not because we simply fed them, clothed them, and taught them but because we loved them and believed in them.
Upon my return, I have had many people express some form of admiration to me for the sacrifices I have made to serve at the Village. I have felt that it is rather unwarranted as I do not feel that I have sacrificed anything. What I gave up here was repaid ten fold while I was at the Village. It was certainly not paid in any material sense but in love and understanding. These things are eternal and treasures that cannot be depleted. If God calls us to sacrifice it is not to demonstrate some token of belief or penance. It is because He understands where true wealth lies and wants us to partake in it.
I thank everyone who has offered their prayers and support over the past couple of months not only for me, but the kids and staff at Children of Zion Village. With out them this opportunity may not have been possible. I know I will cherish the relationships I formed and the experiences I had for the rest of my life. If any one who reads this feels called to lend their support and build a relationship with the people of this unique place I greatly encourage you to pursue that call. Who knows, maybe I will see you there.