The Day I Met My Friend Jordan

I start every morning and end every day praising God. I never had done that before, but when I truly think about it, I should be praising Him continuously. He is the reason air escapes my lungs, the reason for the endless rain hitting the metal roof of our concrete Zambian home, the reason for the laughs of children through the chain-linked fence, or the way my teams’ faces light up when they can tell another being about the love of Jesus, and what He did for us.

As I awoke this morning, I escaped my mosquito net and took a deep breath. I smell the sweet scent of rain, thanking God that I could get a break from the hot African sun. I made myself some strawberry oats with apple, and took my malaria medicine. Our host takes us to school ministry every morning. African time runs slower than the United States. If ministry starts at 9AM, that means it could start at 9, 9:30, 10, even 10:30 AM. There is no such thing as being late. He got here to walk us to the school around 9:45AM. We left our home to walk the streets of Zambia. There is a marketplace which includes stands of food, clothes, and home-made wooden barbershops. Each little stand protects itself from the rain with black garbage bags. The roads flood with brown rainwater mixed with trash. Music booms all day and all night; African music will never leave my head, and I love it. We pass multiple friendly, and at times not so friendly, faces. We constantly are greeted by the kids with the torn clothes, or the mothers managing to carry heavy straw balanced on their heads, with a baby slung on their side. We arrive to the school, and my ministry is with the first-grade class. They struggle to pay attention, to listen, or they may not even understand my English. Zambia is the home of 74 different languages. They fight…meaning closed fist, beating on the head type of fighting. I break up multiple fights a day. They yell, they chew on their pencils just so a peak of led can poke through for them to write, and they struggle to find a spot in the small classroom for a class size of 70. All the teachers at this school are volunteers, not getting paid a single coin for their work. The kids are a lot of work, and can be overwhelming, but these kids are so full of love; they thrive on the fact that they can touch my hair or feel the cross of my rope-rosary bracelet. They are accustomed to their way of life, and when they can see someone that is not a part of their world, it gives them hope. In no way is it easy for myself or for my teammates that are teaching them. It is very difficult to try to give peace to the chaos, or to try to tell them about the love of Jesus when they don’t understand what we are saying. I have learned that God’s love extends more than just sharing His gospel, but it also is making a child smile, or helping a teacher when they are overwhelmed with the booming shrieks of children who need to let out energy, or even playing a game of Simon Says in the classroom. Although it can be hard to see God in these moments of stress, it is very present when you step back and realize all that you are doing in these people’s lives.

We head home the same way we came, while walking some of the children with us. We do not know where their homes are, but they choose to hold our hands until we must turn down our street to the Nama Tama House. (The name of our home) I come home and prepare some lunch. This usually consists of a sandwich of some sort, with fruit. I know lots of my family were curious about this, and yes, I have lost 7 pounds so far. (Our leaders love to eat healthy; meal planning is key, and your body is a temple of the Lord) I take time to worship God by reading through the New Testament. So far, I have finished Luke and John. I am starting Matthew, and I have learned that I really enjoy Scripture. I feel God and I connect at a personal level through His word. It is so wonderful! I do this for about 2-3 hours, and then head to soccer ministry.

To get to soccer, we walk for about 30 minutes. The walk includes many friendly faces, and lots of uneven rock. The street was flooded from rain, and the cars in the town must dodge the various ditches and potholes in the dirt. My team and I walk over the thin, somewhat broken, bridge. My heart always seems to skip a beat when we cross this bridge. I never know if it may give in and send us in the furious tide of the stream below us, but God is good and that has not…and will not…happen. My team and I do our stretches, because these kids are pros at football. (soccer) I have not played football before, and let me tell you, it’s not easy. I have an athletic background, so sticking out like a sore thumb in a field of experienced players is a little weird (I also was picked last when we were dividing teams, but I don’t want to talk about that). I could keep up with them for the running part, but if the ball ever was kicked towards me, I just got a little freaked out. Thankfully, my team had some great players. These included two boys by the names of Jordan and Peter. Jordan would softly kick it to me and say, “You can do it! Kick the ball this way!” After he told me that, I had some confidence. I then could not only kick the ball in the right direction, but make a successful pass for him to score a goal. This was the only positive thing I did throughout the entire game, but I enjoyed hearing their laughs, even if it was with me… or at me. We concluded our game, and lots of my team went and played with the little kids that were anxiously watching us. My teammate Tyler and I decided to sit and talk with Jordan and Peter. Peter is a 13-year-old boy. He told us that he wanted to be a soldier. As Tyler was talking with Peter, I looked over to the boy named Jordan. He had found a small stick to grasp in his hand, and was drawing pictures in the sand. He drew a house, a woman, a snake, and a crocodile. Each one of his pictures were so intricate and detailed. Each time he drew something, I praised him for his skill in drawing and he would just look at me, smile, then draw another. This boy didn’t realize how much he inspired me in that moment. He simply loved to draw. This doesn’t include a big set of markers or fine colored pencils with paper, but just a stick with a small patch of dirt. I sat down next to him and asked if he wanted to be an artist when he grew up. He stopped his drawings and said, “I want to be a doctor.” My heart felt so full in this moment. I explained to him that his steady hand in his drawings will make for an amazing doctor, and when I am sick I know who to go to.

Out of the whole day, this small moment is where I saw God shine the brightest. We were in a remote area of Livingstone, surrounded by streams of rainwater and rubble, but this boy decided to come play with us. He encouraged me throughout the whole game, even though I was honestly terrible. He has a full and plentiful life because he finds happiness and positivity wherever he goes. I do not know where he lives or who takes care of him, but this 14-year-old boy had the respect, love, and sight on his future and on making sure I felt loved. His circumstances in life is so small compared to what I had grown up in, and he has inspired me more than I ever have been before. God radiated around him like the sun shining bright mid-day, and that was the day I met my friend Jordan. Jordan will be a name and face that I will never forget for the remainder of this trip, or my life. When you feel discouraged or lacking something in your life, whatever that may be, think of the love Jordan has for those around him and his circumstances. He perseveres, he finds light in the darkest areas of life, and he is going to be the best darn doctor that Livingstone, Zambia could ever have.