beyond poverty//week13

This week poverty became personal. It’s always broken my heart as I’ve dished soup out to barefoot children in the rain. It’s always convicted me as I complain about old shoes. But it was never personal, until I went to visit my best friend.

Andiswe is a beautiful 23-year-old Xhosa woman who is the faithful mother of charming four-year-old Yonda. She leads a small group of young girls every week at one of the community centers. The hardships and challenges of her life do not show on her face. Andi has the gentlest smile and the warmest hug. I’ve had the opportunity to spend precious time with her and she has become a dear friend of mine.


Well this week I was invited into her home. As I trekked through the mud, stepping over sewage and garbage, I quickly realized that she lived in one of the shacks that border the community center. For the past 3 years I’ve always wondered about those shacks & have prayed for those people. As I stepped into her home, my heart stopped. And as I looked around, it then shattered into delicate pieces. Her home has two small rooms off the main room, where there’s enough room for a table and some worn out kitchen appliances. The floor had was a thin material that seemed to become one with the ground beneath. The walls leaned in, as if they were huddled together to keep the wind out. In her room were a sagging bed and a few stacked suitcases. I quickly searched for words, afraid that if I didn’t say something I’d retreat to tears. So I volunteered to give little Yonda a bath. And as she sat squished in a tiny plastic tub I scrubbed her little body as she told me about her day, in Xhosa. Minutes later I was sitting on Andiswe’s bed, just like I sit on the beds of my friends’ at home. We began to chat about God. We giggled over boys. Yonda started to dance. And we laughed. Suddenly, poverty was not this taboo disease or life-ruining circumstance. Poverty extended no further than the physical. And while I still walked out of that shack heartbroken, I finally got a glimpse of true joy, of what it means to be sincerely elated regardless of circumstances.

And now I realize why people give up everything to live among the poor. It’s not the lack of material that attracts, but the abundance of spirit. And since I walked out of that shack, I’ve been waiting to run back in. Because what I experienced there went so far beyond the limits of poverty.