TOUCHING UNTOUCHABLES

I had never been on a plane so huge. My heart was racing with anticipation of touching soil I only read about, or heard missionaries testify of. Los Angeles Airport is considered one of the largest in the United States. Zimbabwe's runway would be like one of the 405 off ramps by comparison. I was being sent to the Mother of all lands, the Continent of Africa. I remember being so privileged and excited that when I exited the plane in Zimbabwe, I knelt down and kissed the ground. This was the place of my dreams. To travel to a far place and make a difference to people books, media, and tourists often painted as hopeless, and helpless. I was glad to arrive to do my best in turning someones life around. The next six weeks revealed a sealed weakness in my thinking about others and what the true definition of help really is. It challenged my understanding of Christianity and what a true follower of Christ does in the midst of people who apparently look for something deeper than what we "hand out," in an attempt to appease the guilty and listless spirit within a church goer who feels like it's them who need us. The life I helped to turn around was mine.

There were many stereotypical sites I prepared to see and take many pictures to present to an awaiting religious audience back home eager to see what freaky things accompanied this trip. The safaris were inspiring. Seeing animals that I grew up observing behind fences or in exhibits designed to make them feel in their natural habitat, was often times breath taking. Elephants, monkeys, giraffes, zebras, just cruising along; the way God made them to enjoy the earth. On one occasion my wife asked that the car be stopped, so she could get out and take a picture of a herd of zebra moving at a focused and yet hurried pace. When she got back in the car, it was noted that they probably sensed danger as in a lion or tiger looking for dinner, why they were moving at that pace. My wife responded," oh now you tell me!" We witnessed the massive breathtaking Victoria Falls, where the Zambezi river pours what appears to be 1000 feet below; the crash to earths' bottom so fierce that it shoots the water thousands of feet into the air. This site from a distance seems like a mushroom cloud. But when the water returns to the earth the midst is as heavy as rain, causing a rainforest around its perimeter. You need a raincoat and an umbrella to stay dry. Huge rocks standing with bold confidence upon tiny rocks intrigued me. The atmosphere allowed these settlements to remain in those positions hundreds of years; only the tourists become uneasy as pictures are taken of the comfort of the rock's positions without a hint of avalanch. These and many more are what bring crowds to see the adventures of those who travel to the motherland, causing an unspeakable awe to the order of a higher being at work. Then the test of the inner worth of humanity reveals itself. An untouchable appears without a thought of  a hand moving to capture on camera.

Africa is being stripped of its most valuable resource. Aids is taking the lives of many who have preserved the treasures of creation for centuries. And there are not many who would dare touch this epidemic or the people who suffer from it. One of my most challenging moments was in the baptismal pool in a church in downtown Bulawayo. Seventy nine people were lined up. These individuals had a change in their outlook on who they would have be Lord of their lives. As they were entering and leaving the pool with excitement of a new experience, I spotted him. Lesions covered his body, outbreaks in his skin were too many to count, but his eyes were lit up to get in that pool and bury the old life and start living the new life. He was counting those ahead of him. He wanted me to baptize him. I didn't want to touch him, but he wanted me to touch him. As a follower of Christ, I was now faced with getting out of the line. No gloves, no chlorine, no mask, no spray. Only the Holy Spirit now saying, you can't break his heart by not touching him. He enters the pool. I baptized him. He hugs me with a long and grateful hug. He dies a year later. My life has never been the same.