The morning was a chilly one in Zambia, and since my best friend Kelsey Turman was here this past week, I was off in the field talking with her before the kids showed up for camp on the buses. Of course, socializing with Kelsey meant that I was neglecting a few of my responsibilities like taking make-up pictures and sizing kid's feet. Anyways, after I finished talking to Kelsey for a good 30 minutes, I meandered back over to where the make-up activities were happening, only to realize that the other staff members had filled in doing the jobs therefore leaving me with no real job to be doing, something I was just fine with because it allowed me to hang out with the kids who were waiting to get there pictures taken. I love to hear their little laughs, it seriously is the most precious thing in the world so I spend about half my time here being a complete goofball (shocking I know) so that I can hear them laugh. As I stood there with the kids, the Lord directed my attention to a little boy standing off to the side who was watching all the commotion. He approached me and said that his name was Chilufya, and then he mumbled something about seeing his dad and needing to go. I was intrigued by this little boy, but the other kids were pulling on my t-shirt and my attention was quickly diverted back to them. But the Lord wasn't through with Chilufya and I yet, and the little guy came back and we ended up sitting down on the curb together. The boy spoke English extremely well, which is pretty rare to find among the poor children of Zambia. The conversation was fairly brief, but in those five minutes I learned that this sweet little boy was actually not the six year old that he appeared to be. He was actually fifteen years old and he was very sick with tuberculosis. It broke my heart to hear this, because this boy looked sickly and was malnourished to a point that we can't even begin to fathom in America. He was at the GO Center because his father had brought him to the clinic next door to get medicine for his TB. Towards the end of our conversation, he looked up at me with eyes that were too big for his famished face and said, "Megan, I just have one thing to ask of you. When you all go inside for the big session, can I come with you after I finish getting my medicine?" Remember that I said in an earlier blog post that I am the bottom of the totem pole this summer here, and that I truly have zero authority. But in that moment, I didn't care that I had absolutely no authority to say yes. I mean, how could I tell a sick boy No to hearing about Jesus? I spoke with conviction that I didn't have and told Chilufya to come find me in about 30 minutes and that I would take him into the big session with me.
I marched right inside and for the next 30 minutes, I "pulled a Megan." I went and found different staff members and told them what had happened and said that I was bringing this boy into camp and that I wanted him put in a group. Of course I was nice about it, but I wasn't going to take no for an answer, so it's a really good thing that they said yes! I sought out the Zambian zone leaders from his village of Kalingalinga/Mtendere and we walked straight into the Zambian clinic full of patients next door and sought out Chilufya and his father in order to get consent for him to be at camp. Imagine how I must have looked, a muzungu (white person) walking through a packed clinic of Zambians seeking out a very sick boy and his father and hoping that they were still there. But God had sent me on this mission, and I wasn't going to quit until it was complete because I knew what my Daddy wanted from me. He just desired me to be His physical feet and voice that day so that Chilufya could go to camp. After Crispin, Kelvin, and I talked to the boy's father and received a yes, I waited inside the GO Center for him to finish getting his medicine and then come over for camp. No lie, Chilufya walked in three minutes before the big session started, and I must say I was just marveling at God's precise timing. I had added him to a group for the day (yes, just added him in and basically told the American whose group it was that he had a new kid and told him "Hope you're ok with that!" Thankfully he was!) and then went upstairs to do the hand motions for everyone like normal. Afterwards, I saw Chilufya leaving to go out to small group time and he had the biggest smile on his face; I knew he had had fun, his smile said it all. I walked to the kitchen, personally grabbed four slices of bread and a maheu (the lunch that we give the kids) and walked that over to his new group so that I could insure that Chilufya wasn't forgotten for lunch. Afterwards, I went inside to eat my own lunch and was feeling pretty good that I had helped God finish a task for the day.
However, the Lord wasn't done with Chilufya or I yet. About an hour later, one of the other girls on staff walked in with Chilufya and said he was asking for me. He wanted an evangecube, so I grabbed mine from my backpack and we walked outside and sat on the same curb from the morning together again. I decided to share it with him because I couldn't stand the thought of passing up the opportunity. I will say that there is such an urgency when I am here to share the gospel because I never know what these kids will go home to. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I passed up an opportunity and then the kid happened to be beaten to death or die from AIDS a week later. It honestly has taught me a lot about how I should be living my life with urgency in the states as well. Sorry about that little tangent! As I began to share the evangecube with Chilufya, I realized how incredibly inadequate I am when I was trying to put a voice to the Lord's deep love for this little boy, and I understood in that moment that God was going to have to be translating this perfectly for this little guy to understand, because I was butchering the greatest thing that has ever happened in this world. After I finished, I awkwardly asked if he had understood and then asked if he wanted to ask Jesus into his heart, but he told me that he had "already accepted Jesus tomorrow." I was puzzled and continued to pry, learning that he had mistaken "tomorrow" for "today." Chilufya had accepted Christ into his heart quietly in his small group time after hearing the big session and understanding John 3:16! I was IN SHOCK because I couldn't believe what a divine appointment the Lord had clearly meant for the morning to be. It was truly one of those moments in life where words can't adequately express the gratitude, wonder, and love I felt for the Lord for letting me be apart of such an incredible thing.
To wrap things up, the day finished wonderfully and Chilufya was thrilled. I learned later on that not only does he have tuberculosis, but he also is HIV positive which never fails to be devastating news, even though you hear it all the time about kids you love here. But the great news is that whether Chilufya gets to live another week or another ten years, I will one day see my new little brother in Heaven because of the Lord's grace. I asked the staff if he could come to camp for the rest of the week, and because they're wonderful, they said yes. I was also able to personally take Chilufya's feet and size him for a pair of brand new school shoes and a t-shirt, and on Friday he was treated just like the prince in the Kingdom of God (the theme this year) that he truly is now. So on Wednesday, my Daddy took me to work with Him and He also adopted a new little brother for me named Chilufya. Talk about a wonderful Wednesday!
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