cage

Ever since I saw Joseph at the grocery store, I’ve been thinking of him. Something inside me has just always felt like his story has been imprinted on my heart for some reason. And I think this might be it…

Rewind to last Thursday night. Bible study with some incredible people, digging into what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. We ended on James 1:27 and prayed that we’d not just be hearers of this Word but doers. Little did I know what that prayer would mean just a few hours later. Little did I know just how God would answer it and show me Himself in a whole new light.

Friday morning comes along and I’m waiting at the shopping center to ride to a market with a dear friend, Vicky, so I’m just standing outside of the grocery store. And I see a little familiar face pop out. That same patchy hair. But this time with boy clothes.

It’s Joseph.

He flashes me a hesitant grin, I ask him how he is, and he replies in English, “fine.” I’m standing by the grocery store entrance as he’s using the bike rack like the best set of monkey bars, exploring and playing. I pray that Jesus would show me what to do for this boy I keep seeing and I keep thinking about. Do I buy him bread? There’s not enough time to get in and out, I thought. Do I give him money? Money doesn’t solve poverty. Do I just smile and go on my way? There has to be more.

Just as this battle is going on in my mind, 2 guards for the shopping center come up and corner Joseph, just feet away from me. They shout at him, grab his arm and drag him across the concrete. He’s resisting but his little body can’t fight back against the strong men. His skinny arms flailing around, his screams terrorizing, I stand in shock. The men look to me, seeing my disapproval and proceed to walk around the side of the building. One man is dragging Joseph while the other kicks him with his work boots. Joseph shrieking and sobbing. Me feeling a million emotions, but most namely, fear. Absolutely overwhelmed.

As I woman, I don’t have a say here, especially to Zambian men. If I were to try to stop them, they’d laugh (and did). If I were to demand something, it would go unnoticed. So I prayed, Jesus what do I do?!  Admittedly, I hesitated. The culture was going to win. There was nothing I could do. But Jesus spoke this scripture into my life at that very second:

“Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.” Psalm 82:4 

Heart racing, hands shaking, stomach flipped over, I felt like my feet were moving apart from my body. Jesus alive in me, moving me to act for the voiceless, the orphan, the afflicted, the weak and needy. To deliver Joseph from the hand of the wicked. My feet shuffling across the pavement walking the very path of Joseph’s beating to find where the men were taking him.

I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t have the courage. It was all Jesus. The Holy Spirit using me as His tool. His strength to ignite my soul to be a doer of the Word. Just as I realized that I didn’t know what I’d say or do, a wealthy Zambian man drops his groceries, comes along side of me and says, “What do they think they’re doing with that poor boy?” He becomes my voice, my advocate, my partner for rescuing Joseph. Jesus in the flesh. There was no conversation, just words of Truth and Justice, of a pursuit of good.

We round the corner, following the shrieks and cries of Joseph. Painful. Gripping. Terrorizing. And just as I think we’ve found him, I see the two guards standing just feet away, smiling. But the cries are so loud. Joseph is here. I peek around the guards to catch Joseph’s eyes.

In a cage.

My prayers turn into cries. Begging Jesus for his life, his rescue. Jesus was there and Jesus had the rescue planned out perfectly. Through using the 2 most unlikely, a wealthy Zambian man with a heart for orphans, and me, a selfish, sinful woman with no voice, culturally. It all happened so fast.

The wealthy man starts shouting at the guards, calling out the injustice, threatening police reports, giving them a lesson on orphans- children who are just as deserving as their own, children with souls, real people. As the shouting continued, my mind shut all else out and locked eyes with the most handsome boy in the world. The boy in the cage. The boy loved so immensely by the Savior of the world. My feet shuffled and my hands unlocked the cage, opened the door, and ushered Joseph out.

His crying stopped. Tear-stained cheeks. And the weight of the world hit me like a ton of bricks. All I could think to do was rub his back. We both faced the cage as I rubbed his tiny, bony, dirt-stained back and hot tears flowed down my face. Righteous anger. Intense hurt. Painful compassion. Tears turned to sobs and I know that I saw into the very heart of Jesus. His heart shattered. Even in the rescue, He felt the pain expressed by the shrieks of Joseph.

A few minutes later my one-track focus was broken as the wealthy man said, “Are you alright dear?” I turned to see him alone, no guards, and he shared with me all that he said to them. He gave Joseph $1 to go home to his grandmother and disappeared. I will probably never see this man again, but I know that I will continue to see and know the Jesus that was so evident inside of him. Even if he didn’t realize it.

Just like that it was over. Alone in the parking lot, Joseph heading home, I took myself to my car and just let it out for a good 30 seconds. The rest of the day was filled with so many other emotions, but I knew I would deal with the shock of the event later that night.

Skyping my best friend to spill out all that I had experienced, we both cried out to Jesus in tears for Joseph’s life. Thanking Him for the rescue. And I concluded the day incredibly confused about why I had to keep seeing Joseph hurting so badly but yet have nothing to offer him. And I didn’t feel like Jesus was guiding me to take him in on my own.

But the frustration and confusion melted into what God really wanted me to see. The cage. The rescue. The most visible representation I’ll probably ever encounter of how Jesus took the steps of courage to bring about my rescue. Your rescue. To unlock the cage of sin and despair and rub my back, assuring me that I’m His and that I’m never outside His love.

Jesus rescued Joseph from the physical cage at the shopping center, but continues to rescue him, and all of us, daily from the cage of our shortcomings, our fear, our sin, the sin committed against us. The cage is real. But so is the rescue. And the Rescuer is here. He’s defeated sin and called us into His light forever. He’s fighting for us. And He’ll always win.

My eyes still well up when I think of the cage. The glassy eyes I saw through the bars. The moving of the Holy Spirit completely outside of anything I would ever be capable of doing.

And as incredible as that day was, as surreal to witness the rescue of Jesus for the least of these, God doesn’t stop at our expectations.

The greatest words:

BUT GOD.

But God had bigger plans for involving me in the life of Joseph. For introducing Elina to him, a widow whose heart beats for Jesus and orphans.

I thought Joseph would have to continue on this cycle of a life way too heavy for a 7 year old to bear alone, BUT GOD had the rescue continue.

I went to training class Friday knowing that I’d have to cover up my emotions to teach well. Elina could tell otherwise so I told her all about it. She texted me later asking me if it was okay to speak with his grandmother about a plan to care for Joseph.

So yesterday I show up at Elina’s house to drop off the women who came with me to Muchochoma Village. The gate swings open and instead of just the usual 2 little giggling boy faces, there’s another. There’s a freshly shaved head in familiar clothes. But the face is one I haven’t seen before. A face of pure joy, of love, of friendship, of rescue.

It’s Joseph. Elina’s newest child in her household. Elina chose to make the food stretch a bit further to feed one more mouth, to be the hands and feet of Jesus to one more orphan when she, herself, faces many problems as a widow. But when you grasp the love of Jesus there’s just no shaking it.

So praise Jesus for the rescue. For the cage that will always be opened. For love so painfully beautiful. For choosing us, undeserving, to know His love and share it with others. For immeasurably more.