Pure Religion Comes Alive

We were driving through the barren, drought-stricken, dirt streets on the outskirts of Lusaka, Zambia, a city of nearly four mission people. The temperature in November was 95 degrees. Our destination: the Chawama community, where we would visit 50-75 orphaned and abandoned kids being cared for by perhaps a dozen adults, some of whom were parents. All were women. We arrived at the joyous fanfare of excited kids mainly because my friend, A.C. Mutale, had already been visiting and serving this community with food, medicine, and the "Good News" demonstrating Jesus' love for them.



What a joy to be with such a happy group of children. We were taking pictures, giving high-fives, and laughing, as if everything was normal. Never mind that they were in need of food, clothing, medicine, and hope. Their lives will be much shorter and more painful than most people I know.



Then, I was asked to sit down and listen as some of the adults began to describe their ongoing desperate, daily urgent needs of caring for so many children. "We have no school, no jobs, and no future for these children." And then, looking directly into my eyes, they said. "Will you help us?"