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My blog is called “Known”.

You and I are called “Known.”

And I’m learning now (again) that it takes some work to be known amongst your people. It takes an invitation…

You’re my people. And, beyond kissy pictures and cross-cultural storytelling, I want to invite you in to one of the most intimate parts of my journey in Africa right now.

A little boy… 

Lifa is a three-year old who was abandoned by his biological parents very early on. When I met him in March, he was being raised in a nearby community, Mbonisweni, where I work and attend church.

Lifa lived with a family, but never grasped – was never taught – his inherent value. His lifeless body and dull eyes made him almost invisible to his community. We connected instantly.

I’m compelled to be in Africa working with the orphaned and vulnerable children because I identify with the “orphan cry” in them – to be known, to be loved and to belong.

We all do.

Being known, being loved and belonging starts in our families. That’s the design.

Lifa became my sidekick at every feeding program and filled my lap and my hands every church service or moment I could steal away to the house he lived in. It started as a joke amongst the women in the community – I was always kissing on that little boy and pouring every ounce of my affection into him, which is bizarre in this SiSwati-speaking culture.

He never spoke. He never smiled. He never played. And he couldn’t have given a snail a run for its money.

Lifa in August 2010
Photo by Carly B

But I just kept coming back. I would show up for church on Sunday mornings to his house, bathe him, dress him and take him to nap on my shoulder while I worshipped.

Eventually, he started coming over to stay at my house.

Then everything changed.

Lifa started speaking for the first time. He started playing, first with me and then with other children. He started laughing and experiencing the security of love. He started calling my house “home”.

Photo by Carly B

Lifa with "Sesi Rae" playing in my cottage.

Lifa’s lifeless body filled with life, and his dull eyes were replaced with light. Life and Light. That’s who Jesus is.

Lifa's happy eyes - and ice cream! Nov 2010

 And that’s Who changed everything in this boy He looks at and says, “You are My Greatness, Lifa.”

Lifa is who Jesus calls “the least of these”. Abandoned and invisible to all… The exact kind of guy Jesus hangs out with.

Through his transformation, “the least of these” is transforming his entire community. They see Light and Life and want it. They see that maybe there is something to loving like the family God called us to live in. They see that maybe there’s more than surviving day to day. Maybe there’s really abundant life.

No one laughs at me and Lifa’s excessive kissing and hugging anymore. Now they call me Lifa’s Mama. And now they’ve asked me to spend the next year in the church teaching them how to do family God’s way. An undeserved platform to speak Truth, Promises, Hope and Home into a community that has welcomed me in as a mother and a sister rather than an American missionary.

When I left for a two-month trip to the States, Lifa’s father – a stranger to Lifa – came and picked him up from the family Lifa was living with. We had no idea where he went, if he was safe or why he was gone. I called and I called.

And I started grieving like a mother who lost her child.

It was an incredible joy for me to be reunited with family and friends for the first time in a year in the States, but part of me felt broken and missing. Homesick.

Here’s the part I really need you in on. You still hanging in? I know, I’m wordy.

Last year was a year of not expecting to become a missionary, being surprised and feeling out of my element.

This year is a year to intentionally walk in the calling He’s put on me.

He calls me His Ambassador for Family.

This year is a year to expand the Family of God and to speak out Truth and Promises.

Lifa’s still not back and we’re running into cultural red tape like you wouldn’t believe. An unsure and intimidated father, language barriers, costs of communication, unclear perceptions and no information on how to get to him. I haven’t seen him in 2 ½ months.

But I want you to know and to believe with me that Lifa is part of my story. And always will be.

We won’t stop. We won’t give up.

I’ve been squirming in discomfort and groaning in pain since I’ve arrived and not known how to proceed through finding Lifa and seeking God’s best for his life.

Finally, with help, prayer and people beating down the door of the cozy cottage I tried to hide in, my family is in on this. I’ve shared with the Ten Thousand Homes staff the promises I feel God has called me to – I believe I will adopt Lifa.

They are praying with me, standing with me and believing with me.

The pastor of mine and Lifa’s church, Pastor Sthembiso has contacted his father and explained that I would like to come and greet Lifa (who is currently staying with a granny about 1 hour away) and bring him gifts. We want to do this family-style… not ripping a child away from a biological parent, but ensuring he is safe and has an opportunity to dream, to receive a good education and to experience his value in God and in family.

Lifa’s father agreed to letting me come greet Lifa at the granny’s. The father is not there, and is working about 5 hours away. (Pastor expressed relief and that he was probably much safer to be staying with a granny.) Lifa’s father asked Pastor to call him back to get the granny’s number and info, and now he is not answering the phone. This is kind of how the process has been so far.

But there’s a big, big plan in this.

Don’t get me wrong, every day and every step has been showered with tears, emotional back flips and prayers… but also with God’s revelation that He’s doing family in the BIG picture right now. Already, he’s rallying up the Ten Thousand Homes family to pray and believe together. I’m asking you to do this with me right now. And I had a divine and incredible moment of praying with my African family, the family Lifa stayed with before, this Sunday morning, where we cried and interceded for Lifa together.

Photo by Carly B

He’s bringing families together through Lifa, the one He calls His Greatness. He’s got big plans in this journey for me to learn family – to hear God’s voice of Truth and Promises in that orphan cry. In my own heart, in Lifa’s and in Mbonisweni’s.

I believe that, through strengthening families, we will end the orphan crisis in Mbonisweni. Lifa is one of the most precious and intimate details in one of the most beautiful pictures of His Glory that God has ever painted.

Pray with me now for increased faith, patience and that I continue to walk this out the way God is calling me to… to live a life worthy of the gospel (Phil 1:27) and to do this for family and as family.

Please keep interceding faithfully for Lifa – that he is safe, experiencing the tangible love of Christ supernaturally, not feeling abandoned or forgotten, and that he comes home soon.

You’re invited.

Please accept the invitation.