I have been deeply challenged recently by a simple but searching question from Luke 10: “Who is my neighbour?”

One Friday afternoon, as I was preparing to preach that coming Sunday, I stopped for a haircut before the evening rush. As I pulled into a parking space outside the barber shop, I noticed a man across the street waving at me. At first, I assumed he must be signalling to someone else. Then I recognised him as one of the car guards from the Pick n Pay plaza, a man who knew me from seeing me frequent our local grocery store that I’ve engaged with before. He had already finished work for the day and was no longer wearing his reflective vest or name badge, but as he hurried across the street toward me, it was clear that something was wrong.

For context, car guards have to pay for their spot to work the parking lot each day. They also need to cover transport to and from work, so they start out each day in the hole. They receive no salary, and their only income comes from small tips. It’s hard work for very little pay.

When my car guard friend (his name is Surprise) reached me, he began speaking quickly about a young homeless girl who needed help. If I am honest, I was not ready for that interruption. My mind was on my own schedule and my own plans. But Surprise looked at me and said, “I know you are a man of God. I need your help.”

I told him I would come back after my haircut. Admittedly, I thought he might be gone by the time I was finished. Instead, when I stepped outside, he was still standing there, staring towards me and waiting for me.

Across the street, a very vulnerable young woman was sitting on the curb. She was 20 years old, but she looked much, much younger. Surprise explained that she had been sleeping behind a dumpster on a piece of cardboard for the last two nights and that he had been sharing his food with her. He also told me that people involved in prostitution were trying to pull her onto the street.

We work with orphaned and vulnerable children, so I know what to do when someone is under 18, but this situation was different. The local police are often overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there was no obvious solution, as he had already tried that route.

So I prayed. Then I prayed with her. Then I called my wife. As we talked through the situation, we decided the best option might be to take her to a squatter camp called Katoen, where we had previously done ministry and knew one of the women leaders.

I told Surprise and another car guard that if they came with me, I would take her somewhere that might help. When we arrived, we asked for the woman we knew and waited a few minutes for her to come out. Her first response was, “We are full.” I tried to explain the situation and pleaded on this young woman’s behalf. After a short pause, she replied, “We will make space.”

The scene is seared into my mind. Two car guards and some extremely vulnerable people standing next to the women who agreed to make space. Those people embraced this young girl as she sobbed. They obviously knew what it felt like to have no prospects, no one to care… but then, in an instant, there was.

Arguably, the most vulnerable people in this situation are the ones who had the heart of compassion. It was powerful to witness.

As relieved as I was that this young woman had somewhere safe to go, what stayed with me most was Surprise’s compassion and persistence. He had every reason to walk away. His workday was over. He had his own needs, his own responsibilities, and no obligation to get involved. Yet he chose to stop, to care, and to keep looking for help until someone responded.

In that moment, he embodied the heart of the Good Samaritan. In Luke 10, the Samaritan does more than feel sympathy. He steps in, tends wounds, pays a cost, and ensures the vulnerable person is cared for. The religious leaders passed by, but the Samaritan moved toward the need.

That is the question I have been carrying ever since: who is my neighbour? The answer, of course, is anyone whose need God places in front of me.

That same question continues to shape our work at Sinani. Day by day, the Lord places before us children, families, and vulnerable people who need practical care, wise intervention, and the steady hope of the gospel. We seek to serve them faithfully with what God provides, trusting Him to sustain the ministry He has entrusted to us.

As we plan each year’s work, we do so prayerfully and in dependence on the patterns of provision we have seen in the past. Normally, by this point in the year, we would have received a combination of corporate support, international donations, and several specific sponsorships that help carry the daily work of the ministry.

This year, however, much of that expected support has not yet come through. We remain grateful for the generosity that has helped individual projects, but our regular operational needs are under growing pressure, and that places our ongoing work in a vulnerable position.

So we are prayerfully bringing this need before the Lord, and humbly sharing it with those who care about this ministry. We are not seeking to expand into major new programmes at this time; rather, we are asking God to provide what is needed to continue the work He has enabled us to do faithfully for many years.

Rising costs, especially for transport and fuel, have made this season particularly difficult. With a team of 20 serving in communities across our region, even the simple task of getting people where they need to go has become a significant burden.

We do have larger proposals pending with various groups, and we are thankful for those possibilities, but they do not meet the immediate needs before us.

If you feel led to stand with us in prayer, to give, or to help introduce Sinani to others who may wish to partner in this work, we would receive that support with deep gratitude.

Above all, we ask that you would pray that the Lord would continue to make a way for this ministry to serve our neighbours with compassion, faithfulness, and the love of Christ.

Surprise reminded me that when we share our burdens, they become lighter — and that it is often in shared responsibility that real solutions begin to take shape.

Sincerely

Craig Rebro

Managing Director