Helping With Heavy Burdens

I have climbed over 17,000 ft passes, I have carried a 50 lb backpack for many weeks through the mountains, I have run half marathons, and I used to consider myself fairly strong...until today. I saw a young girl filling her two water jugs here at the center, and thought I would be nice and offer to help her carry them back to her homestead. I have done this before, but not a container this big. I helped her lift the first container to her head, wishing I had a different way to carry the container I would carry. From my estimation, I would guess there were at least 8 gallons of water in each container (and if I remember right, water weighs 7-8 lbs per gallon), meaning that we were carrying at least 56 lbs of water each. Which may not seem like much except for that the handle of the container was about a quarter of an inch wide, digging into my hand even as I picked up the container for the first time.
So we started the walk to her homestead, about a quarter of a mile away. Within the first 20 yards, my hand was screaming because the pull on my fingers was too much for that small strip of plastic called a handle. She was carrying on a conversation, while balancing the container on her head, while I struggled with each step with my water. When we were about a third of the way there, I realized that it was going to take a lot more than I thought to get the water to her house. My only method of continuing on to her house was to walk about 30 steps with the container in one hand, stop, set it down, switch hands and walk another 30 steps. Throughout the walk I apologized to her for being so slow & having such a hard time. She responded with, “it’s ok. You’re helping me.” Those few words spoke so deep in my heart.
As we continued walking to her homestead, I realized that her words were more than a response to my carrying water, but they were a word from God. There have been many burdens I have seen in the last several weeks, that are too overwhelming to begin to think about carrying, and I can’t comprehend how people do it on a day to day basis. I have struggled with having too high of expectations of myself in entering another culture to serve alongside of what God is doing. Many times I have tried to take on burdens that are much more than I’m meant to carry & I’ve tried to be the savior that no mere human is meant to be. But in these few words from this young girl, it was a reminder that God didn’t call me to carry these burdens, but to introduce people to the One who wants to carry their burdens. He hasn’t called me to be any kind of savior, but rather to point people to the true Savior. And He reminded me that it’s ok that I am slow & make mistakes because this is His thing that He’s doing (and has been doing for thousands of years)...and He’s been generous enough to let me walk with Him in this and somehow help Him in this place for this season.

Guess How Much I Love You?

To say that this weekend was a difficult one is an understatement. The reality of the statistics of Swaziland have hit too close to home...with the ways that AIDS & the orphan crisis are defining this country. I had tried to prepare myself as well as I could for the all night vigil & then funeral for Gogo Lily...which is difficult in so many ways. But I was able to stay awake all night & followed along fairly well for the 9 hours, even though it was all in Siswati. It is a difficult thing to sit in grief for that long & to walk slowly through the process of saying goodbye & burying a casket. We have made it far too easy in America & go through it so quickly! To sit and watch all day as people dig the grave on the homestead, to see them prepare the food for the meal, to think through logistics of how to light up the area for finishing the digging at night, to hear the sounds of 300 people singing as a casket is carried across the homestead, to see the men of the area taking turns to shovel dirt into the grave, to see the women of the area gather rocks for marking the grave...overwhelming is an understatement!
But the thing I wasn't prepared for was the rest of the day after the funeral, once the family & friends had gone back to their homes. I got home from the funeral (which was right outside my fence) at about 6:30am on Sunday & took a quick nap. When I got up I tried to have a normal morning before church starting (at the team house where I live, so sleeping wasn't an option). After church I slept another hour or so before being woken up by a knock on the door. It was 3 of the girls who live next door & were taken care of by Gogo Lily. Throughout the afternoon they stayed around (as we do most weekends), coloring, sleeping on the concrete & singing. I was wishing I could communicate more with them but knew that they needed my presence more than anything else I had to offer that afternoon. I was trying not to think too much about what life would be like for these girls & the rest of the seven kids that Gogo Lily cared for, but God wanted me to think about it. To think of the reality of a 13 year old cooking for the other children, to think of all of them sleeping alone in a building, away from the other adults on their homestead. To wonder who would do their laundry, cook their food, pay their school fees, and look after them on a daily basis. God wanted me to sit in this pain and reality...and it was uncomfortable.
One of the girls asked if there were any books to read, so I went & grabbed a stack of children's books inside. But I lost it when the first book she pulled out of the stack was "Guess How Much I Love You?" The book is about a couple of rabbits, where the mother is reminding the child how much she loves it. Tears started flowing as I let the depth of this reality hit me...these kids didn't have parents who had shown them love in tangible ways or even were around on a daily basis. They wouldn't ever have biological parents to read a simple children's book like this to them, and they had just lost the woman who had shown them parental love for their lives up to this point. As the tears flowed down my cheeks, my heart was broken at a new level for these kids. But then, out of nowhere, one of the girls started singing, "Jesus loves me, this I know". God was reminding me that even though these kids won't ever know the love of a biological parent, they can know the love of the Father and, as hard as it is to believe, that is more than enough to transform their lives. And as we walk forward in these days, praying and talking about what roles God is calling His people to take in this difficult situation, I am reminded that He is their true Father and loves them much more than any human ever could. Guess how much He loves us...

"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father...so that you may have strength to comprehend what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge."
Ephesians 3:17-19

A Tale Of Two Josephs

In Swaziland, the widows & orphans are the majority of the population, and get talked about the most. But God has brought me into contact with two men named Joseph that He is using here in Swaziland. The first is Ntombi’s father (read about her story here), whom I first met two years ago. He is a hard-working farmer who cares for his adult daughter with disabilities. He has built his homestead on the lower part of the mountain, overlooking miles of valleys. Baboons have stolen the corn out of his fields, but it is evident within a few minutes of being on their homestead that he is working hard to provide for his family. He has built silos for his corn, has several animals on the property, including donkeys, goats, chickens, and pigs. When I saw him again this fall (after two years since last seeing him), he recognized me & thanked us for coming again to check on his daughter.

The other Joseph has had an equally hard time in life, wishing he could change his circumstances. As we were driving to see him today, asking if this was his homestead, one of the ministry partners said, “he doesn’t have a homestead, just this house here.” We pulled up in front of a stick & mud hut with a corrugated metal roof. The huts are made of sticks, with mud on it to fill in the gaps. As we were talking, the door to the hut was open & I realized that I could see in the hut & right out the back because there were so many holes where the rain had washed the mud away. The hut, where this Joseph & his son live, was about 10 feet by 10 feet square. This man brought out 3 buckets for the men to sit on while we visited & a piece of metal leaning up against the hut caught my eye. Upon further inspection, this 5 foot piece of corrugated metal had been leaned up against the hut so that they could cook outside with wind protection. Joseph had been a single father for most of his son’s life, since his wife passed away. He had fled from Mozambique during the war, settling in Swaziland. He worked for a couple of companies until an accident at work left him with a debilitating head injury. Since then, he and his son have survived day to day trusting in the Lord’s provision.

These Josephs struck my heart, because like so many other Swazis, they are living faithfully day by day in the midst of hard circumstances. It reminds me of Joseph, in Genesis, who lived faithfully day by day as a servant, in prison, and in power in Egypt, trusting in God’s sovereignty over his circumstances. I don’t know if either Swaziland Joseph’s life will get any easier, but I can say with confidence (and I’m sure that they would agree), that though this world has brought many evils into their lives, “God meant it for good” and will bring His glory to shine even in the hardest of circumstances.

Make A Joyful Noise To The Lord, All The Earth

“Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth.(Psalm 100:1) The flowers of the field cry to be heard, the trees of the forest are singing, and all of creation with one voice, will join in the chorus of this world.”

I remember the first time I walked into a church service overseas. I had no idea what people were saying or singing, but as soon as they sang, tears welled up in my eyes. The passion in their voices reminded me that God has created EVERYTHING and EVERYONE to worship Him, and that one day all will uninhibitedly worship Him.
This morning, as I sit here with my coffee, I am once again overwhelmed by the voices of the school kids down the road singing in their morning assembly. It's not even 8am, but I am challenged as to how God is calling me to make a joyful noise to Him today, especially as I listen further to the ways that this part of the earth is making a joyful noise to the Lord, this is what I hear:
~chickens, donkeys, turkeys, birds making their noises
~cows & donkeys walking down the dirt road
~the school bell ringing at weird intervals
~preschoolers playing and saying good morning
~people walking and running through the gravel outside of my door
~a kid who found a whistle out on the playground
~wheelbarrows being pushed across the gravel to the spigot to fill up containers with water
~trucks full of sugar cane turning on the road
~tractors going up & down the dirt road
~the door & gate squeaking in the wind
~people talking on homesteads quite a ways away
~workers loading things onto trailers across the road
~laughter of kids playing outside
~preschoolers singing "Jesus Loves The Little Children" at the preschool

“Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Let this be recorded for a generation to come, so that a people yet to be created may praise the Lord.”
(Psalm 100:3-4, 102:18)

Strangely Dim

There is an old chorus that God has repeatedly used to shape my heart over the last few years...

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face. And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace.”

I have spent a lot of time meditating on that phrase “strangely dim” and have seen how it fleshes itself out around the world. If we are turning our eyes to Christ, our material possessions, worldly experiences, selfish ambitions pale in comparison to Him. And the suffering, trials, and temptations we go through are still horrible, but not quite as bad in light of knowing Christ and focusing on Him.
I came across these two quotes along the same line of thinking as well, encouraging us to keep our eyes focused on Christ, no matter what our circumstances are.

“The highest of missionary motive is neither obedience to the Great Commission (important as that is), nor love for sinners who are alienated and perishing (strong as that incentive is, especially when we contemplate the wrath of God), but rather zeal — burning and passionate zeal — for the glory of Jesus Christ. . . . Only one imperialism is Christian . . . and that is concern for His Imperial Majesty Jesus Christ, and for the glory of his empire.”
~John Stott

“Let us live in the constant contemplation of the glory of Christ, and virtue will proceed from him to repair all our decays, to renew a right spirit within us, and to cause us to abound in all duties of obedience. . .
It will fix the soul unto that object which is suited to give it delight, complacency, and satisfaction. . . when the mind is filled with thoughts of Christ and his glory, when the soul thereon cleaves unto him with intense affections, they will cast out, or not give admittance unto, those causes of spiritual weakness and indisposition. . .
And nothing will so much excite and encourage our souls hereunto as a constant view of Christ and his glory.”
~John Owen

Ntombi: A Girl

On our way home this afternoon, I asked what Ntombi’s name meant because I am intrigued by the meanings of so many words & names here in Swaziland. The answer was “a girl”. A simple name that just means “a girl” but Ntombi was more than a girl to me & she is precious in the eyes of God.
The first time I met Ntombi was two years ago, when I thought she was a young boy. She didn’t have great fine motor skills, she couldn’t talk very well, and she was very dirty. She had come to see a visiting doctor at the carepoint because of a wound on her foot. We invited her to eat with the kids at the carepoint, and she had trouble holding the spoon to eat. We took her home that day (she was ELATED to ride in a car) to see if there were ways we could help further. What we found out was that Ntombi wasn’t a young boy, but rather a 48 year old woman. She was healthy her whole life up until around 1996, when something happened to make her the way she is now (almost like she had a stroke, but it affects both sides of her body). The wound on her foot was from when she accidentally stepped in the fire, around 1996...and it still wasn’t healed in 2009.
For the past two years, God has kept Ntombi (and her hard working father, Joseph, and her two children) on my heart. He has given me dreams about her & revealed specific ways for me to be praying.
Today we had extra time at the carepoint by her house, so I asked if we could stop by to see her. I was preparing myself for anything - her to be in worse shape, her to have passed away, her to be totally healed...but what I hadn’t prepared myself for was that she would be about the same. When we walked up to the homestead, her daughter went inside to get Joseph. I was looking around the homestead when I heard her say “Yebo, sisi”. I hadn’t seen her sitting in the shade of one of the buildings, on a mat, and I hadn’t ever heard her speak so clearly. When I went to shake her hand, she didn’t let go of mine, and when I asked if she remembered me she said that my face was not new to her.
We sat and talked with she & her father for a while, but the thing that kept getting me was her foot. It still hadn’t healed from two years ago. Then it was about the size of a quarter, and fairly superficial, but today there were two wounds, about the size of a tennis ball, indenting so far into her swollen foot that her toes were now deformed. Flies were in and around the wounds and I couldn’t help but wonder how she hadn’t already died from infection.
We offered to bring her down to the clinic & her father said yes, but she needed to change first. She went and changed into one of the nicest dresses I’ve seen in Swaziland (something my mom would have worn for Easter about 1988) and then was ready to go. Her father had built her a crutch out of a branch, but she wouldn’t be able to walk to the car. I drove it up their “driveway” and then Celimphilo carried her to the car.
When we got to the clinic, the nurse was asking about the wound and when I told him it was more than 15 years old, he didn’t question it at all. He was able to clean her foot & bandage it up, as well as give us enough supplies for her to keep cleaning & bandaging it over the next several weeks.
I can’t help but wonder at the rest of the story - how she ended up this way, why she hasn’t been able to keep the wound clean, what she was like before, how this illness has affected her relationships with her children & her father. It’s one of those times when I look forward to heaven, where she and I can sit down over coffee and speak the same language, without mental disability and catch up on all the Lord has done in her life. But for now I will trust that God knows her heart & her every need & has kept her on my heart & in my prayers for a reason.

As You Are Going

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.”
~Matthew 28:19-20

There have been many commentaries that spend a lot of time talking about the form of the verb “to go” in the Great Commission, focusing on the “go” or translating it “as you are going” but God has impressed it on my heart in a new way these last few weeks as I have been in Swaziland. In this new ministry context, I have had to be creative about discipleship and conversations with people as I am going.
In the US, our discipleship is centered around food...think about it - you meet at a coffee shop for Bible study, you have people over for prayer & dessert, you invite people over for dinner to invest in their lives. But how do you do discipleship in a culture where many of the people only eat one meal a day? And where people don't have money for those types of things, let alone transportation or even coffee shops?!
I have had to get creative about the ways I am pouring into people, being intentional about who I invite with me as I run an errand, being intentional about what we talk about while carrying out mundane tasks. And God is stretching me to grow in this way.
Last week, a few of my most significant spiritual conversations with people were while waiting at the hospital, while driving 30 minutes to a care point, while ringing out laundry, while waiting for glass to be cut at the hardware store, while shopping for groceries.
Who are you taking time to pour in to as you are going?