Congo's Day

I have had Congo on my heart a lot lately. Partly due to the relationship shared by my father, partly the situation that the country finds itself in today, and partly it simply fascinates me. I have been learning much about the people of Congo and the day to day misery that has become the norm for the millions who live there.

I have a lot to say about Africa although I have never been. Correction: I have a lot to feel about Africa. I have been given the chance of a lifetime to go this coming summer to train children's workers but I am struck to learn about what is happening, not only in the rural areas where water is in short supply and food is scarce but in the cities as well where the sick can not get the care they need and millions of children roam the streets abandoned by their hopeless families or orphaned by the war that no one knows how it began or when if ever it will end.

The most curious thing about Africa and specifically the Republic of Congo, is that they are not asking for aid. They are not swarming the missionaries there to assist them with finding new water sources. They are not asking for donations of money or medicine. The people of Congo are begging, with tears in their eyes, that we help them teach their children. Not to teach them English or math or even technical skills. They are crying out for knowledge on how to reach the next generation with the love of God.

This unfortunately is the beginning of an inconvenient narrative on the effectiveness of missions today in that area. It is so much easier to drop a bag of clothes into the anonymous bin in the grocery store parking lot and feel like we did some good in the world. But the truth is, they know the way for them to become successful as a nation, as a people, is for them to help themselves. They understand that no nation has climbed it's way out of poverty based on the charity of other nations. They are crying out for the skills to reveal God to the young and the hopeless and finally offer them something greater than themselves. The men and women making a difference in Congo are not the President or his minions or even the growing rebel groups spread throughout the country. They are the Sunday school teachers and they are the moms and dads that have made the decision to live a life that honors God above all else and at whatever the cost. And many times that cost is their own lives.

As I mentioned, I have a lot more to share on this topic but for now I will leave you with the phrase that many there continue to repeat as they encourage us to come back to them. I pray that it will haunt you. And when you think of it (and you will) that God will break your heart just for a second and you will stop and pray for Congo:

"Today is Congo's day"