There's more than one type of poverty

“When is your birthday?” I asked.
“I don't have.” came the quick reply.
“You mean, you forgot when it is?” I questioned, confused by his answer.
“No money is there for birthdays. A long time ago we had money for them, but not any more.”

The hot Ugandan sun beat down on the grassy field where we played. Cows were grazing nearby, and scattered about were groups of children. Some were engaging in the various sports that were taking place, while others quietly sat under the open pavilion and watched the action. I stood, badminton racket in hand, opposite from a young boy who had asked me to play with him. As our game progressed, more than once laughter or an apology escaped from my lips, simply because I was so terrible at the game. But that didn't seem to matter to Timothy**. He patiently waited, and soon his easygoing personality drew me to ask him questions about himself.

It started off as most casual introductions do - what was his name, his age, his favorite sport, and perhaps how many siblings he had. But it didn't take long for me to realize that I had made assumptions about this young man without really knowing it. Just like many twelve year old boys, he has dreams for the future. Big dreams. In fact, he told me that after completing secondary school he would like to study to become a doctor. And seeing how bright and intelligent he was, I'm sure he would do well. But unlike most youth his age, his dreams are dangling by a delicate thread. Challenges are looking him straight in the face, threatening to crush those dreams into a million pieces. You see, his father doesn't want him to pursue this dream - he would rather him study other things. And his family doesn't even have enough money for birthdays, let alone medical school.

Maybe to some the thought that this family has little extra money isn't a big deal, but to me it was hard hitting. It reminded me once again just how much I take for granted. But even more saddening was the other type of poverty he faced. A degree of poverty which has an impact far deeper than a lack of money. This was where my assumptions had kicked in. I assumed that Timothy was a part of one of the families we had been getting to know, and therefore he was growing up in a Christian home. But as our conversation progressed and I asked him what his favorite Bible story was, he simply answered, "I'm Muslim."

He didn't seem at all offended by my question, and it didn't change our friendship in the least bit. The game of badminton went on. We continued to talk. But because of this new information, God gave me a special mission. I knew that this was probably the first and last time I would see Timothy, and the impact that I individually would make in this short time was probably minimal. But thankfully God isn't bound to human limitations. He is always at work, and I trust that He will continue to bring people into this young man's life to be living examples of the love and the hope that only He can bring. I was challenged to fight for this family through prayer, because I believe that prayer really does make a difference. I'm committing to pray that God would not only meet their physical needs, but that they would understand and believe in the truth of the gospel, and that it would radically change their family.

This circumstance was a powerful reminder to me that all over the world, whether it be in a expensive housing district in upper class America or in a small dirt hut in the middle of Africa, people everywhere face spiritual poverty. Physical poverty is a real issue that needs to be addressed, but in the process we can't forget that there is another type of poverty that is just as real, even if unseen from the outside. So I'd like to ask you to join me in prayer not only for Timothy and his family, but also for the thousands of other families that experience physical and spiritual poverty. Through truly living our faith, loving like Jesus, and being faithful prayer warriors, I believe that God can and will use us to bring people into His kingdom.

**This name has been changed as a safety precaution to protect the family's privacy. 
Other than this name change, all other details are as accurate as possible.

As I mentioned in the last post, I will be posting stories from our team's time in Swaziland and Uganda. This is the first story I have written from our time there, and I hope to post them weekly from here on out.