Laudium #2

'Please, pray for me. I am addicted to glue, I want to stop and go to rehab but I'm addicted, pray for me!'

She had a glue pot in her hand and her fingers were covered in glue. She stood just below my shoulder height and looked as though she were in her late 40s. She was as thin as a rake and as high as a kite. Her forefinger and thumb were corroded, the skin was black and dead from all the handling of solvents. She was lowly. Let's call her Sally.

We obviously prayed for her with the lady who had called us over in the first place (turns out she was a Christian) Afterwards Sally asked us to come and visit her the following day when she was not high so we arranged a time and took her address.

The following day we discovered that the address was completely wrong and that Sally was fairly well known in the community. The resident at the false address gave us better directions.

Note to self - don't rely on information given by people who are high.

We found her at her place shortly after and she was sober. She was happy to see us and I don't believe she meant to give us an incorrect address. She explained she didn't have any tea so couldn't offer us any but we had bought our own. She got cups from the neighbours as hers were all filled with glue. As she made us tea she explained a bit about her life. She lost her mother at a young age and had a huge amount of hurt in her childhood. She ended up as a prostitute at the age of 17 and from there got hooked on drugs. Later she met her now partner, let's call him Sam. Sam Gave her a house, food, love and drugs. He did not really set her free from prostitution, he just made it exclusive. She explained how he abuses her but she is strong - she fights back. Sam is addicted to Cocaine and he is 49 - a similar age to my own father, a scary thought. Fortunately the drugs usually pacify him more than anything.

After we had been talking with Sally for some time Sam arrived back home. He went straight through the living room where we were talking and into his room. Sally first explained how lucky we were that he did not immediately kick us out and then introduced us and explained what he was doing as he was crushing the cocaine pill into a powder. I sat down next to him and started talking as he smoked. The girls went back into the living room. I sat and talked to him for some 2 hours (we overran the time we were meant to stay quite significantly) he explained that he was a Muslim and believed in the Quran. I questioned about his drug addiction, he knew he was not supposed to be on drugs and that he was meant to be praying 5 times a day but that belief seemingly made no difference at all, his justification was that he was able to hold down a job and afford his drugs and he didn't hurt anyone. I didn't bring up the abuse of his partner.

Sam was quite happy to tell me lots about his beliefs and stories from the Quran. I questioned him on his belief about Jesus. He immediately kicked up a fuss and went on a 20 minute rant about Christians and their beliefs - almost all of which he was mistaken about.

I talked to him about what we actually believe but he was very dismissive and often very rude but I can handle insult if it opens the door for me to share what I know.

The gospel is offensive to some, especially to Muslims when it comes to Jesus being the son of God so I figure if we are unable to receive our fare share of insults how can we expect them to.

Our conversation got quite heated at times (though nothing compared to some of the conversations I have had with my own family about issues that we agree on 99% of the time)  I later realised that Sally had started crying when she heard him shouting because she was afraid of what he would do to me. In the end though he actually invited us back on Friday for dinner - no small deal when it is straight from his pocket and he is not exactly wealthy, Cocaine is pretty expensive.

In the time that I had been talking to Sam one of Sallys friends had popped in and the 2 girls who I was with talked with her as well. Let's call her Kate. Kate is a Cocaine addict and professes to be a Christian, she is not in as deep as the other two - she holds down a job and doesn't need to smoke every day but she is still trapped.

That Friday during the day one of our team members met Sally in the street. She was covered in glue and was very high - she explained that they had no electricity in the house and that we could not come. We decided to learn from the first lesson and ignore the retraction of the invite - we did not expect to get fed but we needed to show that God loves this lady - especially when she makes mistakes.

We went and on the way to her place we Found Sally in the street sniffing glue. She invited us back to hers - the lights were on and Sam was in and so was Kate. Sam greeted us with a smile but was clearly not happy that we were there. He went to the kitchen to continue smoking and we sat in their room with Kate and Sally. We prayed for them and as we did so they wept, we were tearing up as well but had to remain strong while there. They knew that they had to leave it behind and they want to make God everything - even more than drugs in their life - but it is not an easy decision to make. Sally explained how she was not going to take glue that day but someone on the street had just handed it to her. She was completely sober by this point, we told them that they need to get out. They need to leave this place and these people if they are going to give up their addiction but it is not easy to tell someone that they need to leave the people they love in order to stop taking the drug they are addicted to but they knew that it was true, they knew that what they were doing was killing themselves. Sally said 'I want to follow God but I know when I take drugs I let the devil inside.' They told stories of some of the dreams that they have and it was nothing short of terrifying. We sang some worship songs together that they knew from childhood. When we were done Sally was smiling, 'I feel hope' she said. She had a sparkle in her eye that was not there before.

The next time we saw Sally was the following Tuesday, 4 days later, it was our last day and we wanted to say goodbye and pray with her one last time. She was alone in her house again and sober. We asked how she had been and she explained that after we left on Friday she Sam and Kate had smoked solidly for3 days until Monday afternoon and she now had severe chest pain because of all the glue. We asked her to be honest, not to tell us what we wanted to hear but to tell the truth - was she ready to leave drugs, was she sincere about quitting and following God whole heartedly. There was a local pastor who ran a rehab but he would not take on any patients unless they were very serious and committed to quitting. Her response was heart breaking. She simply said 'I don't know, I am weak' I am glad that she gave an honest answer though. We prayed again with her and asked her to pray. She said I don't know what I would say. We said she needs to tell God everything, all the things that hurt, explain the reason why she started drugs, talk about everything that hurts that she wants God to heal. She prayed and just thanked God that he loves her - that she saw in us. It was strange to see someone so ready to pour out her heart and past and hurt onto complete strangers but unwilling to address that hurt before God. Actually I think we all do that and it is a real battle to take those things before God despite the fact that we  know that he already knows what we would say. There is that knowledge that we have to admit our problems to ourselves before we tell God about them and we know that God won't just sit on that information. He will do something about it. He will begin to heal but that is a sometimes a long and very painful process but it is worth it.

We are all addicts to sin - we need to admit that before God or we will never be free.  Only once we have admitted that can God begin to address the reason that we are addicts and heal us of the sickness that all mankind shares.

Title font used: 'Alhambra'

Laudium #1

I have spent the last 2 weeks in a township called Laudium. Created in the 60s under apartheid for 'non whites'. This results in a very concentrated population of Indians who are now 3rd or 4th generation South Africans yet somehow have maintained their Indian accent and to some extent their culture.

A Minaret

This was a world faiths outreach - the purpose being to gain a greater understanding of the other main world religions. Laudium is around 60% Muslim 30% Hindu and 5% Christian. This outreach put a face on those numbers.

The cleaning area in the Mosque

On the first day we visited a Mosque and a Hindu temple for exposure. It was a very interesting insight into a different world. The Mosque was clearly very well funded and our tour guide was very friendly and allowed us to take pictures. Dream.

The 99 names of Allah

The Hindu temple was quite different - it was dilapidated and the stench of incense was almost overwhelming. The thing that stood out the most though is that the people who ran the temple were more than happy to give 2 completely contradictory answers to the same question asked by 2 different people just 5 minutes apart. In my limited experience this pretty much sums up Hinduism.

The Tamil Hindu temple

For our duration in Laudium we were reaching out into an area called white blocks. It is the poorest area in the town yet is a stone's throw from the houses of millionaires. It was quite surreal everyday to walk past a mansion with a Porsche Cayenne in the drive and 5 minutes later be in someone's house who didn't even have a handle on the door let alone a lock because they have nothing worth stealing.

The prayer price list

Laudium and specifically White Blocks is renowned for being gripped by drugs, any substance you want you can get it there and where there are drugs there is crime. Most of the people we talked to in the 2 weeks made some mention of the murder of a 16 year old boy the previous month in the streets that we were walking on, though the way it was talked about was common place. We visited one house and asked the 18 yr old there whether he felt safe in Laudium. He said 'No' and pointed to the bullet hole in his wall - it was at head height.  He explained how thankful he was that he was not in the house at the time and his plans to leave Laudium as soon as he could.

A Hindu shrine in a house

The police seem powerless to do anything about this, We were talking to one Muslim lady who runs a tuck shop with her husband from their house. We were asking them about how their beliefs affect their lifestyle and how they find living in an area like White blocks. She said that they loved it and would never go anywhere else because they have a strong community. In the hour and a half or so that we were talking I counted at least 5 different people who walked into the courtyard and bought drugs off of the ladies family members. The tuck shop was across the road from the police station.

On another occasion we were talking with some guys by the side of the road about crime, the local area, police etc and a policeman drove past. The man we were talking to flagged him down, he clearly knew the officer. He asked him a question  'A personal question: A good cop is a dead cop. True or false?'

The cop laughed. 'No, no some times in order to catch the criminals you first have to make friends with them.' He smiled and then explained that he really needed to change out of his uniform before talking any more.

Policing will never change the hearts of men, Only Jesus can do that.

Title font used: 'Alhambra'

Pretoria: Conclusion

It was the last day of our inner city outreach in Pretoria and I was ill. A combination of a cold and tiredness knocked me out. I spent most of my day in bed, unconscious. How was it then that this became the best day of the entire outreach for me?

It is my conviction that a single conversation can completely change the course of someone's life. All it would take right now for you to have any range of emotions and reactions is the right person to approach you and simply say the right combination of words. Probably one of the easiest examples would be proposal, there are few conversations as charged with emotion and as integral to life change as that one huge question. (Do you like the way I used an example in which my sum total of experience is precisely 0?)


So as you may have guessed I had a single conversation which completely changed not only my day but my entire view of our 2 week outreach in Pretoria. I had dragged myself out of bed to make a cup of tea (totally worth it) when the guys who had been out doing ministry returned with stories and the excitement that comes with having thrown caution to the wind on the last day of a short term outreach.

It was no longer a surprise to me to hear Tonys name thrown around. He had now become one of the regulars at the coffee house where we were serving and quite a few people had gotten to know him but this occasion was different.

'Did you hear about Tony? Did you hear the news? We gave him a bath and cleaned him up, gave him a shave and Sonia called a home and now he is gone!'

Information overload.

'What!?'

It turns out that on the day when I was barely able to get out of bed Tony was set free. They bathed Tony  (you will know that is no easy task if you have any experience with caring for the disabled.) Gave him a hair cut, shaved his beard and while all that was happening the Coffee house team made some calls to their contacts and found a home for him to stay at. Tony now has a roof over his head, a bed to sleep in, his own bathroom and 3 meals a day.

That conversation changed me. I heard it a following 3 times from the different people involved and every time  I was welling up, every time I heard how the event had impacted the individual that was involved, how God had used that opportunity to break pride, grow compassion and solidify hope in people.

A single conversation can change your life, it happened to Tony when some 20 year old kid from the UK and his friend decided to sit down next to him and just talk, it set in course a series of decisions that means that Tony no longer lives on the streets.

But the single most important conversation you, or anyone else can have is the one in which you talk to God for the first time believing that you are not just talking to a wall or a ceiling but to a person who knows you. It is a conversation in which you approach with only one thing to say, just one plea. Jesus Christ - the only one who paid the price so you don't have to. When you believe that for the first time, when it takes root in the core of who you are you change and that change makes Tonys story pale into insignificance and he would agree with me on that point.

There is a reason that we find stories like Tonys so appealing, it's because it is a small picture of the bigger story that we are all involved in even if we don't know it. We are all living life on the streets with no hope until we go to the one who can help and when he helps he does so in abundance.

(I take no credit for any of these photos except the title - obviously it was not me taking them as I was in bed, I did do the edits though :)

Pretoria #2

I am convinced that it was nothing short of a God send when just as I was leaving the coffee house (the face of our ministry in Pretoria)  that I saw Tony hobbling though the gate with one of my fellow trainees under his shoulder helping him along. It made my week. He had somehow made it! It took me around 30 minutes to walk the distance from where I first met him to get back to the coffee house which is several blocks (I walk quite fast) so it is quite the miracle that he even managed to make it. I greeted him and showed him to a seat - I managed to get a new testament into his hand before I had to leave, his reaction was priceless-

'Glorious God hallelujah!'  

I was very frustrated to only have been able to give him a new testament, this guy knows a chunk of it already and he would actually be able to make use of a full bible.

The following morning I came prepared - I would not have to experience the frustration of wanting to give a whole bible but not have one on me - so as I approached the coffee house again the following morning I was elated to see that Tony had stayed under the stoep that night - I woke him up with a complete bible in my hand. I don't think he has had such an awakening in a long time. He was on the brink of tears - 'It's my food! - My daily bread!' Tony has stuck around at the coffee house since then and I have had the opportunity to begin building a friendship. It will not be fun to leave this city though I know he will be just fine.

In other news on Saturday we hosted a sports day for 30 shelter kids who have been taken off the street - it was good to forge relationships and display love to those who rarely experience it.

We visited a Creche, a prison, a brothel (the girls only), a hospice and walked the streets, telling whoever will listen that there is a hope that they are missing out on.

Creche ministry = clowns ( I personally find them terrifying)

 It has been a pretty intense week topped off by an experience evening on Friday - we had R5 (about 50p) to spend on food for the evening - it was chicken feet time ...

We went to bed on a full stomach (you can eat cheap if you know where to look) and a thin piece of cardboard under the stars. It was an interesting experience to lie on the pavement in a sleeping bag, though on reflection I think the hardest part of being homeless is the loneliness - I was surrounded by my friends and could happily sleep like that for some time but I think it would be a different story entirely if I were by myself. Maybe you should befriend the next homeless person you meet - they are notoriously unreliable, hard to love and most likely will betray you in a heartbeat because that is all they have experienced from other people, but you could change that ... today.

I got the opportunity to preach to the guys before we fed them

Title font 'Louis Ann'

Pretoria

Tony threw his 7 Rand change on the floor a couple of feet in front of us - I was shocked and a knot tied itself in my stomach, his following sentence confirmed the motivation behind his action which challenged me and I hope will challenge you.

"I don't need this money" He said "I need Jesus - I depend on him!"

He was welling up and so was I, though I think I hid it quite well (you get good at that if you live in "I am an O.K. Christian" pretence  for too long).

Honking is illegal - not that it stops the taxis

The wisdom of throwing money away aside, his actions spoke more loudly than his words ever could...  

About 10 minutes previously as I was sat down next to him when a friend approached him, handed him 2 cigarettes (one of which Tony offered back to his friend) and 7 Rand change. As far as I know that was the sum total of the money he possessed.

The junctions can be a little crazy

Tony has been living on the streets of Pretoria for the past 6 months since he had a stroke which left him unable to continue working as a panel beater. He is applying for disability benefit  but his situation is still pretty desperate. His second stroke which re-hospitalised him until just a few days prior had stopped him from being able to function well enough to walk further than a block before collapsing.

The stroke had also removed all sensation from his bowels so he is completely unaware of having soiled himself again until someone points out the smell to him.

He lives day by day and he values God more than money.

I had just been trying to comfort him with some scriptures that I knew (I was not carrying a bible with me). He had mentioned Matthew 6 earlier when we had offered to pray for him - he reminded me that I did not need to pray aloud on the street corner for the world to hear, only God needs to hear and he can hear your thoughts just fine!

Later in Matthew 6 Jesus teaches us not to be anxious about what we will eat or wear. I started telling him and he completed my every other sentence, despite not owning a copy of the Bible he knows it very well.

I was not expecting the reaction that I got, it is one thing to remember the word of God, it is another entirely to live by it on a daily basis.

The second event that put a knot in my stomach was seeing people walking by on the street (sitting next to a homeless person on the street is about as close to their perspective as you will get until you are there yourself).

The 7 Rand had been lying on the pavement in front of us a couple of feet away for about 5 minutes before a guy walked past looked at us, saw the money on the floor, picked it up and walked on.

"See - his life revolves around money instead of God", said Tony.

Tony understands that he has more than the young well dressed man who will take 7 Rand for himself instead of giving it to those in need less than 5 feet away, because he has Jesus who is so much more valuable than any sum of money.

An exert from my journal

I talked to him for an hour and a half with the intention of blessing him - I bought him a coke (on his request) and I came away blessed and challenged by him.

Title font 'Lois Ann'

Edits

Sitting in front of a laptop for several hours trawling through thousands of photos to try and whittle the number down to a manageable collection of pictures from an event or season that tell a coherent story is not always as fun as it might sound.

I know this because I have experienced it many times and especially over the last week. Having taken 12 days out (mentioned post before last)to go into rural south Africa and taken aprox 1,200 photos of ALOT of African kids I felt a little photoed-out so when this was immediately followed up by a trip to a national park (last blog post) where I was also official photographer for the group - (this basically means that you are obliged to take photos of anything that is even remotely interesting because if you come away from a national park without photos then your trip there was wasted) meaning that I racked up another 800 photos in a single day only 3 days after getting back from the photo-thon that was rural.

So after filtering through 2000 photos to produce around 20 that can be used for blogging and facebook purposes I was tired of photography. This happens sometimes and it is largely because I am dealing with photos that I have no particular interest in - why do I take said pictures in the first place? Because being the 'photography guy' people inevitably (and actually multiple times a day) will ask me for my photos. In principle I have no problem with this. I love to use my ability, equipment and time to bless other people with photos  the problem arises with quality. My definition of a useable picture is very different from that of most people. They would prefer quantity over quality and therefore I end up processing lots of frankly lame pictures.

So I felt photoed-out and could not be bothered to take any more pictures, I was quite happy to leave my camera in my room and forget about it for a while. So typically the following day a friend asks if I will take some photos of him for his news letter. So I oblige and as I am taking the photos the difference hits me like a wet fish - when the photos have an intended purpose it is so much easier to both take and edit them. My friend also wanted to be shown  what software I used to edit my pictures so I gave him an overview of Adobe Lightroom 3 by editing the pictures of him. This was a joy rather than a chore - actually taking the time to make good photos great and turning them into something that perfectly suits the intended purpose. So now I know how to cure photoed-out-ness, ironically it is to take more photos.

So these are the edits of some more of those 2000 photos that I took in the last 2 weeks - Enjoy!

This is the friend who wanted the profile pictures taken so if you can read Spanish go check him out... http://diegocaceres.org/

Title font used 'Neogrey'

War Stories

I have spent the last 4 days telling and hearing war stories and I don't want you to feel left out.

I have just got back from 12 days of rural outreach in Belfast - a tiny village in Gazankulu - a 7 hour drive east from our training base. I led a team of 10 amazing people who I now have a new found love and respect for. I could not possibly recount all of the crazy, hilarious, scary, amazing, mind blowing stories that these 12 days produced in as many blog posts let alone 1.


However to give you an idea of the scene ...

we were camping in the front yard of the pastor who we were staying with and supporting/ being supported by for our time in Belfast. - Meet pastor Jeniffer:

There is no running water and the taps that are dotted around the village seem to operate independently from one another meaning it is a wild goose chase to find water. Our shower consists of a piece of tarp wrapped around 3 poles and a bucket and obviously we are using a long drop - to those of you who are not familiar with this it is essentially a hole in the floor with a cesspit below it - good times. All the chickens in the village thought it was a great idea to scream at the top of their lungs capacity every night at around 12, 3 and 5 AM and in between them the witch doctors (Sangomas) of the village get up and have a drumming party to put curses on the Christian pastor of the village and her white guests. Good times!

This is a sangoma herding his cattle to new pastures. Pray for him.

Let there be no doubt - our time in Belfast was incredible, we had an hour by hour schedule drawn up for us by our pastor - she was well prepared for our arrival so we worked very hard for the time that we were there and saw some amazing fruit from out labours. We also had our fair share of tough lessons learned and scars to prove them. Among other more personal things I learnt that trying to make veet Coek (Fat cake) in the dark over an open fire that I was maintaining with very hot oil in the pan and the spoon in my hand while trying to pick up something else is too many things at once. Oh and I learned how hot that spoon really was as displayed by the title picture.

This was the view that saw almost every night...

So here is a little glimpse of the face of Belfast and here is the story that we heard which is seemingly the same in all of Gazankulu...

I saw this beautiful young girl almost every day - I did not see her smile once. Pray for her.

I met this little ones family ~ they were lovely people, her older brothers have just finished school and are unemployed. We didn't even ask about the father. Pray for them.

This is the Grandmother of the house ~ she has been completely blind for 2 years and I have met few people more content in Jesus. Pray for her.

The Women hold this place together - there is low employment rate so the men are demotivated. They almost unanimously turn to alcohol to drown their sorrows based on the number of liquor stores in a place that has no running water. So the men are absent. Those who have jobs work 7 days a week, the ones without go and find a tree somewhere and sit under it for weeks. The wives and mothers are left at home with numerous children and sometimes grandchildren. They grow some of their own food on their own property but there is no way they can be completely sustained by this. They cook all the meals (it's a bigger deal when you have so start a fire with wood that you have gathered in order to heat your food) They also bring in some income if they have a skill set that is practical.

These women are amazing. They some how battle on through a sea of apathy.

One of these mats takes 5 days to complete, working all day.

The church is largely the same - it is 95% women and they carry all the weight / host all events / do all that needs to be done to make the church function practically. Animism is also rife - the worship of ancestors is common place even within the church, a lot of people will still consult witch doctors and the spirits of their dead grand parents for protection and guidance. This gave rise to the Zionist church which is an odd mix of Christianity and ancestral worship but even outside of the Zionist church ancestral worship is so ingrained into society that it happens everywhere. Talking to Pastor Jennifer about this I asked her how she managed to cope with so many people trying to serve 2 masters and the absence of men. She laughed, looked me in the eye and said 'I have been faithful to the lord since the day he saved me and he sustains me' Such an incredibly refined faith, simple and strong.

This is the daughter of a sangoma who had just been healed of acute pain in her side through the power of prayer and decided to live her life for Jesus, she seemed pretty happy about the decision. Pray for her.

So despite the darkness the surrounds Gazankulu I do not despair because I know there is a very real and very strong hope.

A lady being prayed for that pain would leave her body ~ which it did. Pray for her.

Title font : 'Lithos Pro'