The Man with the Small, Pink Flip Flop

I walk into the home for the elders of Zambia and observe that there are stray dogs everywhere. They are coated with flies, missing chunks of flesh in their ears or body, and extremely malnourished. I act as though I cannot see because I am not allowed to touch them, but they won’t stop following me around the grounds of the nursing home. I see the broken windows, and residents unclothed, dragging themselves on the ground to get into the outdoor showers. We walk into the outdoor activities building, beginning to clean the tables, chairs, and floors. I pray around the grounds of the nursing home, asking God to help the residents feel loved and worthy during this time of their lives. We finish up our cleaning, and are granted permission to walk around and interact with the residents for a small amount of time. I met the maintenance worker, Alfred, who asked me to pray for Him to be able to go to school, and help focus on God more. I met a few residents who I could not understand their names, but were able to talk briefly and pray for them, and let them know how loved they are.

This is when the rain began to start, and we quickly ran under shelter. I sat down in a chair, staring at the sky, waiting for the rain to stop so we could walk home. I saw a tall gentleman, unable to run, with only one small children’s flip flop, covering a fourth of his foot. He tried to pick up speed as the rain came crashing down on him and his muddy, unprotected feet. He finally made it under the shelter, and sat down slowly at a chair on the opposite side of the room. I was hesitant to go over to talk to him, because he not only intimidated me, but that seemed way out of my comfort zone. I could feel the push of the Holy Spirit, almost pulling me closer to him. One of my teammates, Cassidy, boldly walked over to the man in the striped shirt and started to talk to him. I could tell he was unable to verbalize. I decided to be bold as well, and began to kneel next to him. I have had experience with dementia and residents of nursing homes, so I was confident in a way to communicate with him. I began to tell him about myself and about our team. He fiddled with his fingers, looking down at the floor. I continued to talk to him, knowing that he could understand what I was saying. I told him about how we visited Victoria Falls, and we were surrounded by monkeys and animals. He looked up at me and began to smile. I said, “So you like Victoria Falls? I do too. Livingstone is such a friendly place, I don’t want to leave”. His smile was so large, and I could see the joy in his eyes. I continued to talk about how much I love Livingstone, and I could see him itching to respond, but unable to. I told him that it was okay, that I could see his joy and his light just by his smile. I proceeded to tell him how loved he is by Jesus, and how beautiful he is. I asked him to smile if he loved Jesus back, and he nearly jumped out of his chair in excitement. I finally told him, “please continue to smile if would like me to pray for you”. Not only did he continue to smile, but he allowed me to place my hand on him during prayer.

I prayed for him to always feel loved, and continue to be a light in this world. I said that this small moment in time has taught me more than he could imagine, and I am so thankful that there are people in the world like him. I finished my prayer for him, and the rain had stopped. At that time, I realized that the love of God has no bounds, even when it becomes to communication. My team motioned for me that it was time to leave, so I took my hand off his knee and said, “I can’t wait to see you again”. I truly can’t wait to see him again- the day I can talk to him in the beauty of eternal life with God, where he feels no pain, and is not held back by the effects of time. This was the day I met the man with the small, pink flip flop. For this small interaction made me realize that I met Jesus that day, in the form of a sick, beautiful Zambian man.