The Day My Eyes Were Opened

Our trip to Zambia, Africa was amazing and heartbreaking all at the same time. Today I’m extremely tired and having difficulty reconciling the differences in our standards of living.

My kitchen is bigger than most Zambian compound homes. I can eat all day if I want. They have no refrigerator or pantry. They have no electricity. I have running water. They have to fetch their water at a well. Here is a picture of a compound home and a woman carrying water to her family.

These homes have cement floors. Many homes have dirt floors.

My kids go to awesome schools with new clothes and shoes. This Zambian school shares their building with a church that is primitive and crammed with kids of all ages. (There are some better government schools and private schools, but for a financial cost. More on that later).

My kids have safe streets and transportation to get to school. Zambian children have to navigate dirt roads full of all sorts of dangers.

Many Zambian kids don’t go to school, like these.

And these.

And these.

She ran with our bus into the compound for about 10 minutes just to hold our hands. And she ran out with our bus when we left. She had no shoes–just worn blue socks and a sun dress.

My kids have always had new toys and electronics

Zambian children have broken down, discarded, makeshift toys.

I cannot reconcile the differences, except to realize and live Luke 12:48:

“From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

I am no longer ignorant of the dire needs of Zambian children. I must give freely and unselfishly. My heart and eyes have been opened.


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