“Pure religion, undefiled before God is this: To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” James 1:27
After church on Sunday, our team split up into small groups. Each group had a list of widows, orphans and vulnerable children who attend Wiphan's schools and training programs, and each was accompanied by someone from Wiphan Zambia who knew where the widows and children lived within the compounds and who spoke Bemba and could act as an interpreter if needed. And off we went. To visit.
The rest of the day Sunday and most of the afternoon Monday were spent moving from mud home to mud home to mud home, venturing deep into the Sinia and Mapalo compounds, visiting with Wiphan's widows and the families and caretakers of Wiphan’s orphans and vulnerable children.
It is not every day that muzungus venture into the compounds. And many people who live in the compounds have never ventured out. As we meandered through the narrow dirt paths, we accumulated quite a following of curious children, singing and acting silly, giggling at the sight of the us, and striking poses in the hopes we'd snap their pictures. Toddlers who'd obviously never seen people as pale as us were alternately confused, frightened or thought we looked hilariously funny. I imagined we must look a bit like aliens with our pale skin, strange accents and unusually colored and textured hair.
As we made our way though the compounds, widows who weren’t on our list came out and beckoned us to visit their homes as well. In Zambia, it is a great honor to have visitors in one’s home, no matter how humble or sparsely furnished it might be. These women are proud to be able to provide shelter for their loved ones. Several requested that we take photos of them in or in front of their homes. These women have few pictures of themselves and their families; hopefully the next traveling group will be able to give them hard copies of the ones we took.
Their homes and yard areas were swept and tidy, and were as clean as possible given that their yards and floors consist of dusty red dirt and their homes are constructed of mud. The homes were pitch black inside, but our eyes adjusted as we sat and talked (only when we took a flash photo could we see what the room really looked like, though). Paraffin candles are reserved for true emergencies.
The construction is rough and very basic, but for the most part, the homes are functional. No one has electricity. Some homes have radios or TVs modified to run on battery power. Several entrepreneurial compound residents generate incomes by offering battery charging services.
None of the homes have running water. Each of the Wiphan campuses has a well situated on it that families in the compounds are permitted to use. There is no sewer system, but the latrines are well maintained and did not smell. Many homes had holes in the roofs which would need to be covered or patched before the rainy season, but several children told us that they had to sleep standing up when it rained because the floors of their homes would get so wet and muddy.
Zambian culture is not as sensitive as ours when it comes to talking about personal matters or touchy subjects. Zambians tend to be more open, honest and direct in their communicating, and few topics seem to be off-limits. This can be a bit awkward at times, as we are not accustomed to being asked personal questions by strangers (Zambian culture works both ways!) or to having someone we’ve only known for 5 minutes open up to us about their most difficult struggles or painful experiences. As Americans, we are conditioned to hide our vulnerabilities and keep mum about hard things that have happened to us. We're expected to be survivors. We're supposed to always be just fine. But cutting through superficiality and small talk in visiting with Zambians made our conversations so informative and our time with these families so much more precious.
They told us about their daily lives--where they get their water, where they cook and sleep, whether their homes are owned or rented. We asked about the reed mats, mosquito nets, blankets, door locks, uniforms and shoes that each Wiphan student receives upon enrollment (most were quick to show them to us but it was discovered that a few caretakers had sold or traded them). And they shared their stories, how they came to be widowed, orphaned, residents of the compound, students at Wiphan. Most of the widows' and orphans' stories involved tragic circumstances—death, illness, abandonment, abuse, land grabbing (in Zambia, it is not uncommon when a man dies for his side of the family to take his property and all of his possessions, leaving his wife and children destitute—in fact, this scenario was at the very heart of Wiphan’s beginning). Our discussions ranged from humorous to heartbreaking to infuriating to inspiring.
Spending time with Wiphan's widows, orphans and vulnerable children gave our team insight into how they may be better served. Those days we spent visiting gave us the opportunity to pray for and love on them, and speak truth and words of encouragement to them. These things are perhaps more meaningful to them than an education or employment. To know that one is loved by others, and loved by God, to be reminded of His faithfulness, to find comfort in His arms and hope for the future—is priceless!
"Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." Matthew 25:40
As we made our way though the compounds, I reflected on how this verse goes hand-in-hand with James 1:27.
Visiting and serving have interpersonal components. They are not things that can be delegated. They happen face to face. Visiting widows and orphans and serving the least of these are not things that can be accomplished with a charitable contribution (though supporting organizations that are focused on these things is a good use of money you have been blessed to be able to give!). They require something even more difficult to part with than one's money or earthly treasure. They require giving of yourself and your heart.
Visiting widows and orphans and serving the least of these doesn't require you to travel to a developing country across the world. Though we have followed our hearts to serve in other countries, part of the change in D and me as a result of these trips has been a new commitment to serve the widows, orphans and least of these in our own community--our widowed grandmothers, the foster kids living at our local children's home, the single mother in our neighborhood who, though not a widow by reason of death, is struggling to support her children who, practically speaking, have been abandoned and are fatherless. There are women (and men!) all around us who need to know that they are Christ's bride. And children who need to know the love of a Father who can restore what has been ruined, heal what has been hurt, free what has been bound, and redeem what has been lost.
The Bible tells us that by visiting orphans and widows we are practicing pure religion and by serving the least of these, we are serving God. And something neat happens when you do these things. The Lord shows up! He meets you there and you experience HIS love in a way so real, so intimate, and so overwhelming. Your eyes are opened to the beauty in people overlooked by society. You see them with God's eyes, as His precious, valued and beloved children. And it changes YOU! The value of visiting is that it opens your eyes to see His amazing grace and His magnificent and unchanging love for you in a powerful way!
I began my trip to Zambia with hopes of making an impact on the lives of widows and orphans in Ndola. The thing I didn't realize was just how much the Lord was going to impact me. In the darkness of a mud hut, God opened my eyes to more of Himself than what I ever thought possible. I experienced His love in the eyes of hundreds of orphans and dozens of widows. And this love has transformed me.
