Thursday, September 12, 2013

"Jesus Come" - August 2013

Oh my goodness, how much do I love these kiddos! Sweet memories with Londiwe and Marilyn leading them as they sing:

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

LaShea - My first day at Lesibovu

LaShea's entry is powerful. Our first day at the CarePoint, from her perspective:

A lot of this is straight out of my journal, so I apologize in advance if some parts aren't so pretty. The reality is a lot of it wasn't. Most days were hard and emotionally draining. There were lots of tears and lots of laughter. So here we go...

Wednesday, August 7th.
Today has shaken my world. We have seen so much today and it hit me in the face what we take for granted. On the way to Lesibovu we saw kids (small kids - some younger than my own) walking alone. There wasn't an adult or a home in sight. Just a dusty road. As we neared the carepoint, we drove through the river. It was nearly dried up. Mud remained. There were women washing clothes and kids playing in it. There was cow manure all around. This is where a lot of the people get their water.
We arrived at the carepoint and were immediately told it had been under spiritual attack. Three children had died recently at other carepoints. We prayed and went to meet the two bomake (pronounced bo-MAH-gay) that work all day to prepare food for the children.

There were a few kids around and slowly more came. They seemed a bit scared and timid. We tried to talk to them, but we talk too fast and are hard to understand. If you add our Southern drawl then it's no where near the English they've learned in school! Some of us got our cameras out and started taking pictures, and they loved it! We'd take their picture and show it to them and they would laugh at themselves, which made us laugh! We started making silly faces and some sang for us. We played dancing games with the girls, and the boys played soccer with Isaac. He was a big hit! He always had a group of kids following him everywhere!


I noticed a young girl carrying a toddler on her back. She was probably eight. The same age as my son. I was later told that was her responsibility. She leaves her at the carepoint so she can go to school. That broke my heart. I imagined my child caring for his sister. It turns out that's fairly common in Swaziland. Siblings caring for siblings.





As the day ended the kids entered the building and sang and prayed before eating, and you could feel the Lord. At that moment, I knew I was exactly were He wanted me, and it was amazing!

Several of us got to see our special friends that day, and tears were shed and memories were made.
Marilyn and I with our special friends
(they're brothers) and their precious sister!

Jennifer and Abi meeting theirs!

At the end of the day we were off to our home visits. Marlena , Amy, Nhlanhla (pronounced "Shlan-sla"), and I went up for a fun walk up a hill carrying bags of food. Nhlanhla picked on us and said we had to carry food like the Swazi woman...I tried. Huge fail.

On our first home visit we met a precious family. They were grandparents taking care of 4 grandchildren. Some of the children's parents died, or the father left. The mother of some left and married another man. This is common. The grandfather was from South Africa and had learned English in school, but when he was little he fell out of a tree. He lost his hearing and became mute. Later his hearing came back but he still couldn't speak. He could understand us very well and would sign to his wife so she could translate for us. They were amazing and had so much faith. The grandfather kept putting his hands together and pointing to the sky saying this is a gift from God. The grandfather wanted to take a picture with the food, and that sweet little girl was so scared of us white folks.

I left that day overwhelmed by what I had seen (and still am). The dried up river and children caring for children. Why do we have so much and they have so little? Why are they struggling and starving and we have so much? We have homes with air conditioning, an overflowing refrigerator, and multiple cars. And we have the nerve to complain about what we don't have. I was disgusted with myself and what I take for granted. I realized the only difference between me and them was where we were born. That one little difference can change everything. I prayed, "Lord, you know why we are here. This problem is so much bigger than I ever imagined. Let us be your hands and feet. Help us show your everlasting love. Use me wherever you need me."

That day was full of so much hard stuff and it had just begun. It was an amazing day and I can still hear children singing beautifully praising the same Father we do.  

Swazi Team Trip 2013: Day 2 - London!




I won't spend much time on this day, though it was very amazing. We had an 8 hour layover in London, so enjoyed several hours seeing the Westminster area of the city.

Though we had such a great time, and I am thankful that the bonus layover was included, there were definitely mixed emotions when I pondered this part of the trip. We witnessed firsthand a country that is much older than our own, with architecture that is breathtaking, and a bustling city that is governed by a royal family and Parliament. A new prince had just recently been born, the royal family is enjoying great popularity, and being there, seeing Buckingham Palace, Richard the Lionheart's statue, and the Tower of London all added to make it seem like we were in a fairy tale world.

9 hours away we arrived in a land that has been populated for much longer than our own, with thousands of folks living in primitive huts, ruled by a king who governs the last remaining absolute monarchy in the world. The number of people living with positive HIV is staggering. The king is rarely seen but greatly loved by his people, though he lives in luxury while the Swazi people are starving and dying.

Talk about contrast. I found myself just shaking my head, wondering how we live in a world of such great opposites. Why some have so much and great opportunity while others are lacking even basic necessities is a question that is painful to ask, but constantly on my mind.