Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this:
to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. James 1:27
Busi's Church. Thursday Church. Church in the Yard.
We call it a lot of different things. But something is happening in Dwaleni that only the Living Word can begin to capture.
It started just a few weeks ago when some high school seniors from my church in Mbonisweni came to visit the construction site of Ten Thousand Homes' first house to build in Dwaleni. Read here for more about that afternoon when the Holy Spirit landed and started building Home right where we were building a house. Hope started rising as we spent an afternoon singing, dancing and praising our God right there in front of the neighbors and construction crew.
People are catching on to the Truth that there's something worth catching onto in Busi's yard on Thursday afternoons.
Last week, God took this barefoot gathering to a whole new level.
Contagious worship.
Relentless hope.
Heaven came to earth for an hour in that yard.
As soon as I greeted Busi and slipped her a jumbo bag of groceries we'd collected upon hearing she had no food, I saw a little girl named Nandi waiting at the edge of the gate. She was calling my name. Nandi has had a rough 7 or 8 years on this planet. I believe her family is being touched by God and is changing, so I won't share the details of her story... I'll just talk about the HOPE part.
I went to invite Nandi in, only to be surrounded by a group of 7-9 year olds clinging to me. They told me they all lived in that little corner of Dwaleni, so I asked Nandi if I could go to her house.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by shrills of delight, linking arms with little girls in school uniforms and skipping down red-dirt roads. Just me and them. It was the sweetest gift and intimate exchange as they sang out my name and pointed to the shacks they call home. "Kacy! Kacy! Look! That's my house!"
God spoke to me while we skipped. "This is being KNOWN."
Last week, I posted pictures of the tiniest little boy named Kevin. He is Nandi's cousin, and, though he makes no sounds, he greeted me with big "I know you" eyes upon arrival. I scooped him up and asked if he could come with me. Nandi would bring him home later. (Disclaimer: it's normal in the culture for an 8-year old to care for a 2-year old. Last week Kevin walked a 15-min walk to the feeding with his 4-year old sister.)
I love Kevin. When I prayed for him last week, God told me Kevin is His little King David. The tiniest, scrawniest, most unnoticed giant-slayer, fit for royalty. I know that's True. And I'd come prepared to talk about it and honor it.
So I scooped up that feather-weight child. He's turning 3, but fits a size 6-12 months clothing. The neighborhood children lined the bed of the truck as I held Kevin, announced his anointing, and poured a warm bath for him. I had come that day with hot water and a bath bucket.
Right there in the back of a truck, I gave that baby a bath and rubbed his dry skin with Vaseline, telling him how loved he is by His Father.
Before I knew it, his mother and Nandi's family were there peeking over the truck. Adrenaline and the Holy Spirit were working double-time by now... something big was happening and this little boy's life was never going to be the same.
I told his mother, his auntie, and everyone I could find (no matter what language they spoke) what God said about this anointed little shepherd boy.
And then I dressed him in brand new clothes.
to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. James 1:27
Busi's Church. Thursday Church. Church in the Yard.
We call it a lot of different things. But something is happening in Dwaleni that only the Living Word can begin to capture.
It started just a few weeks ago when some high school seniors from my church in Mbonisweni came to visit the construction site of Ten Thousand Homes' first house to build in Dwaleni. Read here for more about that afternoon when the Holy Spirit landed and started building Home right where we were building a house. Hope started rising as we spent an afternoon singing, dancing and praising our God right there in front of the neighbors and construction crew.
People are catching on to the Truth that there's something worth catching onto in Busi's yard on Thursday afternoons.
 |
| Photo by Lindsey Kaufman |
Contagious worship.
Relentless hope.
Heaven came to earth for an hour in that yard.
As soon as I greeted Busi and slipped her a jumbo bag of groceries we'd collected upon hearing she had no food, I saw a little girl named Nandi waiting at the edge of the gate. She was calling my name. Nandi has had a rough 7 or 8 years on this planet. I believe her family is being touched by God and is changing, so I won't share the details of her story... I'll just talk about the HOPE part.
I went to invite Nandi in, only to be surrounded by a group of 7-9 year olds clinging to me. They told me they all lived in that little corner of Dwaleni, so I asked Nandi if I could go to her house.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by shrills of delight, linking arms with little girls in school uniforms and skipping down red-dirt roads. Just me and them. It was the sweetest gift and intimate exchange as they sang out my name and pointed to the shacks they call home. "Kacy! Kacy! Look! That's my house!"
God spoke to me while we skipped. "This is being KNOWN."
Last week, I posted pictures of the tiniest little boy named Kevin. He is Nandi's cousin, and, though he makes no sounds, he greeted me with big "I know you" eyes upon arrival. I scooped him up and asked if he could come with me. Nandi would bring him home later. (Disclaimer: it's normal in the culture for an 8-year old to care for a 2-year old. Last week Kevin walked a 15-min walk to the feeding with his 4-year old sister.)
I love Kevin. When I prayed for him last week, God told me Kevin is His little King David. The tiniest, scrawniest, most unnoticed giant-slayer, fit for royalty. I know that's True. And I'd come prepared to talk about it and honor it.
So I scooped up that feather-weight child. He's turning 3, but fits a size 6-12 months clothing. The neighborhood children lined the bed of the truck as I held Kevin, announced his anointing, and poured a warm bath for him. I had come that day with hot water and a bath bucket.
Right there in the back of a truck, I gave that baby a bath and rubbed his dry skin with Vaseline, telling him how loved he is by His Father.
Before I knew it, his mother and Nandi's family were there peeking over the truck. Adrenaline and the Holy Spirit were working double-time by now... something big was happening and this little boy's life was never going to be the same. I told his mother, his auntie, and everyone I could find (no matter what language they spoke) what God said about this anointed little shepherd boy.
And then I dressed him in brand new clothes.
Fit for a prince.
In the intensity of the moment, I hadn't even realized that Busi's church was over and the worshipers were surrounding us.
Suddenly, I heard Keri say, "THIS is Church."
And it hit me.
Capital C.
Church.
In the yard.
Where Home is being built.
People from the nations gathered.
Feeding the hungry.
Loving the orphaned.
Uniting in passionate worship.
Visiting homes and encouraging vulnerable families.
Speaking Truth over the forgotten.
Bathing babies in buckets in truck-beds.
Realizing that nobody needs me here, but I'm part of it.
I GET to be part of THIS.
THIS is Church.
I get to be a part of a neighborhood Church.
So do you.
It's in your living room, your front yard, your passenger seat, your workplace, and even in those four walls you sing in on Sunday mornings.
Get out the bucket and call out the princes around you.
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this:
to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. James 1:27
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