***Full disclosure, the last blog was altered from my original journal entries. The sentences were reworked to be more coherent and the foreshadowing of our coming along side others was written after I had seen that happen.***
Now, that I have confessed I tried to make myself seem more aware of the future by writing in the present, but making it sound like the past,- to show off what I knew of the future, that was then in the past, and the time I wrote which is now far in the past, I can ... wait, what?
In any event please enjoy this entry which is word from word from my journal:
George, South Africa
As I shared this morning I feel like I am drinking from a Spiritual Fire Hose.
As I sit and reflect on ideas I am flooded with thoughts, moments, and ideas.
-God doesn't want my gifts and passions as much as He wants my availability.
-My God is big.
-My God offers Hope I don't truly understand
-I am excited to see how my passion for the American Church and my heart for South Africa come together.
--the little girl at the Big White Church -who was so happy to be in my arms-that she clung to me the first time her mom came to get her-the little girl who allowed me to stand rather than jump around during worship-allowing for a much needed rest before leading rec.
-the simple Milo latte at Mugg & Bean (see below)
Impact
Do my actions matter? Is what I am doing making any difference? We have all faced these questions.
South Africa is a land of vast contrasts. On the road from the airport to the first campsite we stayed at there are acres of shacks and lean-tos. These makeshift houses are filled with families whose parents and grandparents were once told by their government that were less than human because of the color of their skin. On the opposite side of the street, sit houses of affluent white families, most of whom have never known material need.
As you know, this winter I had the opportunity to visit Cape Town to try and make a difference, to try and matter. I gave out peanut butter sandwiches, played games with rubber chickens, and allowed the children who live in those shacks and lean-tos to have an afternoon of hope and joy. The struggles of Cape Town are immense. One can’t help but ask the questions. To ask if they are making an impact.
My trip was full of contrasts. In the morning the team would be playing in the squatter camps, and in the afternoon we would strolling through upscale malls hoping to purchase unique Christmas gifts. One Monday morning, the men on the team ministered to the boys of a local corrections facility. That afternoon we were back in the mall sitting at a very upscale coffee shop known as Mugg & Bean. However, today’s quest wasn’t to find stocking stuffers. Instead, our leader Merv had a reminder for us.
After we had finished our lattes and milkshakes, cappuccinos and Americanos, Merv spoke to the men. He told us that in his life and in the lives of the other South Africans of the team, the impact of Americans, the impact of men, stooping down and spending time with the children could not be put into words. He assured us that we would never really know what we had done for them. That our time and sacrifice mattered, that it made a difference; that we had left an impact on the future generation of Cape Town.
That day I ordered a Milo Latte. Milo is a wonderful chocolate that I discovered the first time I
visited South Africa. I brought Milo home and gave it away as Christmas gifts. Unfortunately, a lack of money and lack of space in my suitcase kept me from bringing home Milo for everyone. However, if you are reading this know that your love and sacrifices have mattered, that they have made a difference in my life. Know that you have left an impact on me.
Thank you.
Thank you.
--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau
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