To See the Kingdom Come: The African Dream

Welcome to the neighborhood.

Every day, as I step outside my gate, this is the sight I see. Walking on the road, I feel the coarse red sand wisp through my sandals; doing my best to avoid raw sewage mixed with heaps of garbage. The people of Yako don't expect the garbage truck to roll around once a week like you or I would, nor is there any type of sewage system available to them here; leaving the only result, to put it in the streets.

As I continue my journey down the road, I am greeted by many children. Children who desperately want just to shake my hand. To get just a little attention from their local "Nassara," (white person) and to try their luck and see if I'm carrying any candy on me. I never once have had it, but everyday, the same kids ask. "Nassara bom bom!?" "Nassara bom bom!?"

These kids have so very little. It is not uncommon to see a group of young boys playing soccer with a couple of rolled up plastic bags; and loving every moment of it. Though most of these kids don't even have a soccer ball to their name, they learn to have fun without all the stuff- and you know what? They do it beautifully. They do it with pure joy and innocence; even if they are just inches away from feces and garbage lining the streets.

I know that God has called me to Africa to make disciples of all nations, but I can't stop and revel in the reality that I learn so much from these people; especially from these kids. Maybe this is just a picture of what Jesus meant when He said, "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."

As I continue walking down my street, I make a quick right, and I've hit the main road in Yako. To the best of my knowledge, in a city of 17,000 people, this is the only concrete road. The main stretch is constantly saturated with locals selling anything from a loaf of bread to a T-shirt, a freshly grilled chicken to a sofa. There are many restaurants scattered throughout the entire city, each providing its personal take on "Riz Sauce." (Rice with Sauce, often topped with goat or sheep meat) Eating in Yako, especially at restaurants, is cheap. We're talking 50 cents for a heaping plate, and that's an over estimate. I never feel bad about my inability to finish, though, because there are always boys with little tin cans waiting to take any left overs they can get ahold of. I wonder if this is the only meal they will see all day; my leftovers.

In Western Africa, there is a large Islamic population. Just about everywhere I go, I view a mosque. On the main drag in Yako alone, you can visibly see four different mosque's in about a half a mile; the largest directly in the center of town. Each and every day, there are five different calls to pray that Muslim's are required to participate in. This means that five times from 4:30 AM to 6 PM, the believer in Allah and Muhammad will bow on his knees and face towards Mecca, the Islamic capital of the world, to pray.

After a quick stroll through my neighborhood and down the main road, it's time to head to the Orphanage. This is where my heart is, and very little here makes me happier and more fulfilled than spending time with my kids. It is beyond a shadow of a doubt that I know God has called me here for them.

I am so blessed to be apart of His business; in seeing the Kingdom come here in Yako, Burkina Faso.