monday

Today is Monday. In every sense of the word.

From 8-14Hours, I was out at various government offices getting yet another batch of paperwork done with Elina. What was accomplished and checked off of the to-do list? Nada. And I feel like I met every mean person who lives in Zambia today. Elina said that it’s because it’s Monday. I think she’s right. Jesus, teach me grace.

First on the list this morning dealt with our nonprofit registration number. Turns out they use the same numbering system for charities, businesses, and private companies, all starting from #1 yet separate in categories. The reason I even bother to explain this oddity is this: we went to file some tax paperwork and pay fees on our building Friday only to find out that the downtown office thinks we’re Chrismar Hotel. This could be fun and all, except that they refused to continue with paperwork until we sorted this out. So that’s how we found out about this unique numbering system this morning.

The sad reality of the situation hits even deeper than the frustration of inefficiency systems. Our number, generated for us in the charity sector in August, turned up to be the same number that a business (hotel) received decades ago. Charities are just now approaching the number of businesses from decades ago. Who do you hear of that wants to work for a charity in Zambia (besides me, obviously)? Jesus, send your laborers with endurance and love.

For some reason, it seems near impossible to get things functioning here. From bank accounts to personal visa issues, it seems like sometimes everything is done to make sure we don’t accomplish anything. A shocking reality in a nation in need.

After we decided on the last errand, certain that it would be a success so that we could end on a high note, we went in only to be rejected again. Frustration. Confusion. Why does it have to be so difficult?! I suppose Jesus doesn’t always send us to the easy places. I don’t know if I have any major takeaway from today or any beautiful silver lining. It’s just one of the days I’m wrestling with the reality of life and the vast injustices there are here and around the world.

It’s not fair that I have to watch a street boy struggle to carry his collection of plastic containers weaving through busy traffic in route to his destination, where he’ll likely sell them for a few cents or where he’ll owe them to some sort of street master.

It’s not fair that every step we try to take as a charity gets a wall thrown in front of it. That our honesty and passion are overlooked for more money and more papers.

It’s not fair that over lunch I find out that all of the orphans Elina is housing are without money to pay for school fees. Some even face having to drop out before completing a pivotal testing year of grade 7 because the money isn’t there.

It’s not fair that our women have to face the difficulties of life on behalf of their children, fearing for their future and feeling like what they do won’t be enough sometimes.

It’s not fair that my friends come to me with stories of a sweet 4 year old girl being dumped in a landfill by her own mother, enduring the pain from larvae who have burrowed in her skin.

It’s not fair that Mercedes Benz SUVs and $50,000 NGO cars drive through slum compounds without the blink of an eye.

It’s not fair that this isn’t fixable. That no matter what I or anyone else does, it’ll never amount to even be a drop in the bucket.

Today, things are heavy. Things are frustrating. Things are hard. My heart shatters for this place, so overlooked and so difficult. Jesus, come soon. Jesus, give us strength. Jesus, let your love shine through the darkness.