Imago Dei

“¡Bom Dia! ¡Bom Dia!”

This is the phrase that fills my ears as I walk down the alley to meet the women for the ESL class. The women I teach speak Portuguese and these are children greeting me when I arrive. I've become a familiar face that comes as consistently as I can every Thursday morning. When I first came they hid behind their moms and peered around them to look at me, a white person- white people don't readily come around there. Now they come and surround me with hugs, fist bumps (I taught them how to do the fist bump and then let it explode- they love it!), as well as rub their thumbs with mine and saying "Shaw" (still don't know what that means, but I pretend that it is a secret code word to get into their clubhouse). Now that I've been coming for over 10 months, to the kids it's just like a friend is coming over to play. But they do know that once I starting teaching the women (and some of them are their moms), they know not to interrupt. I have teaching material that goes through the gospel of Mark and the 2 girls of one of the women I teach will at times start jumping up and down exclaiming "Jesus! Jesus!" My heart sings! I do love how a couple of weeks ago one of the little boys who didn't see me when I initially arrived started waving at me frantically 2 shacks down while I was teaching and kept on saying “¡Bom Dia! ¡Bom Dia!" until I acknowledged him- be still my heart! Here's a pic I got with them today:

I didn't know when I had the picture taken that it was still on the color accent setting, but I sort of like it how it turned out. The reason I had this setting on my camera was because I took a picture of one of these:

This is a one of my all time favorite spring-time trees that is on the playground at the guest house called a Jacaranda. They are indigenous to Brazil, but I sure am glad that that it made it across the ocean to South Africa!

I digress, so let's go back to the precious children. Last week after I got done with the ESL lesson and started going over to the next street, it looked like the children had just returned from the tuck shop. When they saw me they flocked all around me to give hugs, fist bumps exploding and doing our "secret code." :) As I was doing that, my mind contemplated and wondered ""Where will these kids be in 10 years? Some of these kids are school age, but some are too young for school. Here is South Africa you have to pay to go to school. So if your family can't pay, you can't go. It's heartbreaking and it makes it seem like the government is kicking them while they're down. It also gives me a greater appreciation of the U.S.'s school education system where every child has the opportunity to attend school and get an education. Will these innocent children grow up to be a product of their society? Will the girls already be pregnant and will the boys be into alcohol and drugs, going nowhere fast? Will they still be living in these tin shacks that have no electricity or indoor plumbing? It's amazing how fast all these thoughts flooded my mind.

It is my earnest hope, plea and desire that in 10 years they still remember not my face or even my name (I don't think any of them know my name, though I know some of theirs), or even what I look like. The thing that I do hope they remember is that a white lady came every Thursday to talk about a man named Jesus to their mom's and aunts and neighbors and that they will start searching, if they haven't already at that point, to find out who He is and why it was/is so important to me. I pray that each one of them would know that are made in God's image and that every one who enters the world is a person of worth and dignity.

Father, I know Your heart beats fast for each of these children that are made in Your image and that You desire them to know that they can have a future and hope in YOU through Christ Your Son!! I thank you that Your hand is not so short that it cannot save (Is. 59:1) and ask that You give these children ears of faith to hear, eyes of hope to see and a heart of wisdom to understand for Your glory and reputation.