Known/Unknown

A few weeks ago I was having yet another conversation with neighbors about who I am and what I'm doing.

They live maybe 100 meters from our room, and had no idea who we were.

That's ok. There are at least several thousand neighbors living in the 1.5 km stretch of slum on our side of the railroad tracks (it could be a lot more, I'm not at all sure how to estimate how many neighbors we have).

I know that not everyone knows us. But some days it gets a little tiring answering the same questions. What are you doing here? Where are you from? Where are you staying? How much does a plane ticket cost?

Here, in a new place, far from my home and my family and those who know me, it is draining to constantly introduce yourself. It's a challenge to be unknown.

And so I walked away from that conversation feeling a little dejected. How long have I been here? And I'm still at square one?

Then, another few minutes down the path, I heard some kids call out my name from a distance. That simple yell of those familiar syllables was so beautiful to me. It was a reassuring reminder that some people here do know me. That I'm making the long, slow journey towards knowing and being known.

And in that moment I felt deeply that God knows me and knows what I need. And at that moment all I needed was a few kids to know my name.