In a world where we have everything we want, there are those who don’t—many are children, and they are not invisible.

The dedication of mothers and fathers here in Africa is amazing in the face of poverty that has no equal.

They have never heard of television, never imagined running water. There is no electricity or bathrooms—no showers or sanitation. It is a different way of life—in a harsh but beautiful environment.

The children are precious as they climb into our laps and giggle. I can’t help but wonder how they can be so happy with so little. The truth is, they don’t see what they don’t have—they see what they do have.

Time with family is one of their most valued possessions–it is one of their only possessions. In the light of so much illness and disease—so much death, one may think that life would seem less valuable somehow. After all, the loss of a child is common in their society. Most parents have had to bury several.

But the value they place on life is extremely high. Every moment is precious, and they deeply mourn the loss of a loved one. I can only imagine how God must see these sweet people, and it makes me realize how much work lies ahead of us.

As we have been caring for these children this week, it has become clear that we will only scratch the surface.

In this land where the panthers wander the countryside, the snakes are feared, and the bugs are as big as most of our pets back home, this land is no less valued to God than ours. We are not entitled to what we have over these people—we are simply blessed.

I don’t say this to convict anyone other than myself. We are not better than anyone here. We are a people incredibly blessed—we need to take that seriously, responsibly, and actively. Sometimes that means going where there are no beds … or potties.