Strangers to Siblings

I was in a new world, surrounded by people who, at first, seemed like strangers. They spoke a language I didn’t understand, had skin that was a different shade than mine, and grew up in a completely different culture. It was overwhelming. In my mind, I had prepared for this moment—planned what I would say, what I would do, and how I would help. But the reality hit me like a wave. There were so many differences. And honestly, I wondered how I would ever truly connect with these children.

I was there to serve, to teach, and to love, but in those early moments, I struggled to see how I could make a real difference. The children, their faces full of curiosity, were in many ways like my own. Yet they were also so different. They lived in a world of struggles I had never known. Their homes, their schools, their day-to-day realities were miles apart from what I had grown up with. I think it’s easy to focus on our differences. Our skin colors, languages, and cultures can feel like big barriers. But as I spent more time with these children—playing games, laughing, and hearing their stories—I began to realize something important. We were more alike than I had first thought.

The moment I felt it most was when a little girl, her face full of joy, took my hand and said something in Siswati I couldn’t understand. I didn’t know what she said, but her smile told me everything I needed to know. It was a moment of connection—a bridge built without words, built on something deeper. In that moment, I knew that despite the differences, we were bound together by something much stronger.
Scripture says in Galatians 3:28, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” These words began to come alive in a new way for me. In that moment, that little girl and I, though we had nothing in common by the world’s standards, were united as sisters in Christ. She was my sister in ways I hadn’t yet realized. And as I spent more time with the children, I felt the bonds of siblinghood grow deeper.

We weren’t just strangers from different lands anymore; we were a family, tied together by the love of Jesus Christ. This wasn’t something that happened overnight. It took time—time to understand each other, to listen, and to share. But the more we connected, the more I saw that the love of Christ transcends all barriers. I saw Jesus in the faces of those children—His love, His joy, His hope—and I realized that we weren’t just serving one another; we were serving the same God.In the book of Romans, Paul reminds us, “For you are all children of God through faith in Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:26). As I spent time with the children, I came to understand this verse in a deeper way. We were all children of God, regardless of where we came from or what we looked like. Our differences didn’t matter in the light of the fact that we were all made in God’s image.

There were challenges, of course. There were language barriers, cultural misunderstandings, and moments where I felt out of place. But in those moments, God reminded me of His promise: “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6). Even in the moments of discomfort, I was never truly alone. God was with me—and He was with the children, guiding us through the experience.

By this time Its time to leave, I no longer see these children as strangers. They are my brothers and sisters in Christ, connected to me in a way that nothing on earth could break. We shared laughter, stories, and love. We learned from one another. And more than anything, we shared the presence of Jesus with each other.

The journey of serving in Africa changed me. It taught me that love is deeper than language. It’s stronger than cultural differences. It’s more powerful than any barrier we might face. And above all, it reminded me that we are all part of God’s great family—His children, united through faith in Christ. I am leaving with a family. And though we may be separated by distance, we are forever united in Christ, brothers and sisters for eternity.

If you ever find yourself in a place where you feel like a stranger—whether that’s across the world or just across the street—remember this: In Christ, we are all family. The love of Jesus doesn’t know borders or boundaries. It’s a love that calls us to embrace one another, despite our differences, as siblings in Christ. And that, my friends, is the most beautiful thing of all.

PHOTO CREDIT: JANELLE SMOKER