Clothing the Children of the Dirt, with love..,

Over 300 brand-new outfits, complete with underpants, and sandals,

This last week has been one of the most memorable ones of my life thus far.  Alexis, Emily and I along with three team members, Heather, Caitlin, and Becky lived in the bush to handout all the clothes to the children at 6 different care points in Nsoko.  My instructions to my team of beautiful young women were this:” take your time, pray constantly, and listen to the whisper of the Lord.”  Africa does not need more humanitarian efforts; any celebrity can show up for that, what these children need is a very real, very tangible touch of God.  So, we patiently set up our stations, in the dirt, with the flies, and the cattle dung, our packages of baby wipes and lotions, nail clippers, and bags of new clothes.  One by one, for days, we wiped down, clothed, prayed for and prophesied over the children.  Little babies to young teenagers, we took our time, despite the heat, the crowds, and towards the end, our own fatigue.  I would do it again tomorrow if I could.  There certainly is no lack of children that need help.  Many times, as I would look into the eyes of the little ones that stood before me, the Lord would show me who they were.  I saw the future pastors, teachers, warriors, mothers and fathers.  I saw tender hearts who knew the Lord; I saw broken spirits that were on the verge of losing all hope.  When we first arrive, the children are unsure and quiet, even if they know me and my daughters; they are not sure about the others we have with us.  They do not fight, and rarely cry, they just go along with what ever is happening, this, I always find disturbing.   It is almost as if they have surrendered to the fact that they are defenseless and vulnerable, and there is no use in fighting.  We speak gently to them, and they start to relax.  Removing their rags from their little bodies is something that still amazes me.  Many times it is hard to tell the girls from the boys, since their hair is all the same length, and they wear whatever is available, little boys with pink flowers on their shirts, it is their only option. Several times at one care point I removed “shorts” from little girls that were actually cut up old sweat-shirts, their legs going through the arm holes.  Many 3 and 4 year old children were squeezed into t-shirts, the tag reading “6-12 months” size, their malnutrition tummies, boated and pushing out of the too small shirt. As I wipe them down, I pray over every inch of them, I speak softly and smile while I smooth lotion over their dry skin.  Their skin soaks it up quickly and evaporates, as their spirits soak in the truth of whispered prayers.  All the while in the background their stories are reported to my team by the GoGos, “mother dead, father dying, lives with grandmother”  or ” six years old, both parents gone, head of house old, caring for 2 younger siblings”…hard to comprehend, hard to walk away.  Although we sat with hundreds, all special, all precious there are certain ones whose faces are burned in my heart.  The sisters, 3 and 4 who giggled in shear delight during their “spa” treatment, looking at each other, eyes sparkling, princesses in new white dresses.  The little boy with knees like a camel who let out an audible “ahhhh” when I rubbed in the lotion, and then threw his little arms around my neck.  The beautiful little angel that stood before Alexis, only 8 years old, they looked nothing alike, but they had identical hearts…I saw my own sweet daughter pray the gift of purity that she so gracefully flows in over her new friend.  She dressed her in a yellow sundress, and the little angel, still shy, began to glow.  I saw each of our own six children in the eyes of the little ones we touched, I saw Caleb’s tenderness, Michael’s depth, Tyler’s warrior, Emilie’s determination, Alexis’ goodness, and Noah’s wild and intriguing character.  These children are not different than ours; they are not different than yours.  The deserve food, health, clothing, education, a fathers protection and a mothers tender touch….and just like all of our children, in them lies the truth, the hope, and the future of the world.

When the process is over the children are transformed.  Their heads no longer hang, but their posture is straight.  They are no longer ashamed, but proud.  Their former sad faces are full of life, and smiles.  The girls prance around in their dresses, their feminine spirits brought to life, and the boys, look like young men, walking taller and more sure of their masculinity.

This clothing drive was so much more than new clothes for orphans, it was hope and dignity and a touch of God in a tangible way….

For all who sacrificially gave, I hope you understand the depth of the gift you gave….all those who received it certainly do…..Thank you…..