Not Fair

God started breaking my heart and molding me from the very first day we were in Nsoko. Our first full day there was the 6th of June, which was a Saturday. We really just took the day to rest from our extensive plane ride and travels from JoBurg to Manzini, then finally to Nsoko. All we did was play with kids, and it was so much fun. We brought a guitar (such a blessing on this trip!) and we played it outside on the back deck for so long. We danced with the kids... yes, I danced... and we had a blast together. We sang, we played games, and I instantly fell in love with the place. Here's part of what I wrote in my journal, "The joy in some of the kids' faces was incredible. Some of them had looks of emptiness that was heartbreaking. The smells were unbelievable." Remembering some of the kids that had empty stares is still heartbreaking. As much as we tried to get them to open up and play, they didn't budge. What kind of tragedies does a child go through that they can't even smile? I saw a lot of empty faces on this trip, and you just don't get used to it. A child should be able to laugh and dance and play and have no worries. It's not like that there. And the smells... I don't think I ever got used to that. We saw the same kids day in and day out and they always had the same clothes on. Water is precious and they can't waste it just to bathe and wash their clothes.
That night, while dinner was being cooked, we saw some kids had come back and were sitting outside. So, Kyra and I went outside to sit with the 4 kids. I recognized one of them from the day when I was playing with her... which at the time I thought was a boy because her voice was so deep from always being sick and coughing all the time. Later I found out her name was Bongiwe, she's 12, and is in grade 4. Anyway, we sat there and I held her hand for awhile. It's incredible how much love they receive just by holding someone's hand. Becca came out with the guitar and sang worship music. A few other teammates came out as well and sat underneath the incredible stars and worshiped God by candellight. By that time I was holding Bongiwe in front of me while I sat on the gravel. She was resting her head on her hand and kept dozing off, so I finally positioned her so she could rest her head on my chest. She slept on me for a good two and half hours, if not more. The whole time I kept wondering when the last time she was held while she slept. Or even when the last time she slept in a warm place. All I could think of doing was pouring out love on her because she probably doesn't get it at home... and much later I found out that her dad ran off or died (I can't remember) and her mom doesn't care about them and does drugs. I didn't want anything to stop God using me to love her. My back hurt after about 20 minutes... my butt was completely numb... she peed on me at some point... but God gave me strength and willpower to persevere through that and not move. I'll never forget sitting there under the stars, holding her, singing to God. Finally Matt, our leader, came outside and saw the kids. He called Pastor Gift to tell him, and he told us we were going to drive them home. We got in the kombi and drove. They have to walk so far. And they didn't have shoes. It's just not fair. We got to their driveway and helped them get out. It was hard just seeing them walk away, not knowing what kind of environment they were going into. Obviously their parents didn't care, because no one came looking for them. On the way back we just rode in silence and I talked to God. It's just not fair. Why should I get fed 3 meals a day when she's lucky to get one, and has to walk miles just to get it? It's not fair that they live in such poverty when we have so much. It's not fair that they don't receive the amount of love they deserve. It's just not fair. The next morning when I was cleaning up breakfast, she was back. So early in the morning, when no other kids were there, she was. She's there all day looking for love because she can't find someone at home to love on her the same way. It's just not fair.

Bongiwe and I

I Left My Heart in Nsoko

Home. I'm back home on America soil, yet my heart is still in Nsoko which has been my home for the past two months. Will I ever feel completely at home here again? I don't know. Will my heart ever be completely whole again? Doubtful. How do you tell people that have become your family goodbye that you may never see again? I may not get to go back to Nsoko. And if I do, there's a very high chance that some of the people I was closest to won't be there anymore whether it's from AIDS, TB, or any other countless disease. I have to say, a lot of tears on my part were involved.
I remember the day God broke my heart. It was weird the whole trip because I never really cried even with all the heartache around me. I teared up a few times, but that was it. Well, 4 days before we left, the floodgates opened. My ministry team and I had been visiting a woman, Pauline, and her 3 or 4 year old grandson, Wiseman, a few times during the last month or so. This woman has the most joy I've ever seen. It's incredibly beautiful. We had been playing worship songs at church and we sang I'll Fly Away and she told us how much she enjoyed us singing. We decided to go back and play music for her... her own personal, private concert. So Austin, Anna, and I went and we took along Becca and the guitar. The first song we sang was More Than Life and as we were singing, Pauline was crying. When we were done with the song, Pauline told us, via our translator Thandie, that she was so sad we were leaving. We're the only people that ever come to visit her and invest in her. She knows people in the community, but no one ever comes to visit her and spend time with her. What's going to happen to her spirit now that we're gone? Is God going to send someone her way to invest time with her? We continued singing after we spoke a few words of encouragement. I looked around. Pauline was still crying. Thandie was crying... they were not only our translators, but our family. The dam broke and I cried. I can handle my pain and my sadness, but knowing the affect our departure was going to have on the Swazi people was what I couldn't take. We get to come back to America with our families and friends and continue our life. These people don't have that. When we left, they had to go back to their old lives, with the same people, the same heartache, and the same pain. And they were sad to see us go. Our leaving affected them just as much as it did us, if not more. As we were singing, we all sobbed. We were all heartbroken. When we finished the last song, we talked to Pauline and Thandie translated for us. A few sentenced were spoken and as Thandie was trying to translate she had to stop because she couldn't speak. She was weeping. I went to sit next to Pauline and Anna and I prayed for her as Austin and Becca prayed for Thandie. That was hands down the most intense worship session ever. And I was broken. There were many, many more tears the next 4 days, especially the day we left, but I'll save that for another post.
I miss everything about Nsoko and I don't know if I'll ever be able to heal completely. I miss my two girls, Colile and Phetsile. I miss constantly having kids around. I miss kids sitting on my lap until I couldn't feel my butt anymore. I miss the thorns even though they killed my feet. I miss not showering for 14 days and not being judged. I miss worshiping with my team. I miss sitting outside with Becca while she sang... just me, her, and God. I miss blowing up Axe bottles and bug spray cans in our fire pit. I miss the landscape of Nsoko and the lack of color. There's too much color here in America when they don't have any. I miss sitting with Bongiwe and holding her hand. I miss watching net ball and soccer with the Swazis. I even miss being sick. And all my little wormy friends living inside me. I miss walking to the little store with my team and some kids, buying them soda and seeing the joy on their faces as they drank it. I miss walking to the train tracks with Becca to go spend quiet time with God. I miss smashing coins and bottle caps at the tracks. I miss making balloon animals (yes, I went to Africa and learned how to make balloon animals). I miss having dirty feet. I miss all 17 of us squeezing into our kombi, aka van. I could go on and on. I miss everything, good and bad.

Pauline, Wiseman, Anna, and I the day we left Nsoko

My girls, Colile and Phetsile

God. Is. Amazing. And this picture doesn't do it justice.

Our kombi... it doesn't look sketch at all...

Abbie and Phiwa

Neliswa

Phiwa and I... cutest baby I've ever seen

Colile and I... the day we had to say goodbye

Andy Stanley... in a mall in South Africa. Crazy, huh?

Abbie, Anna, me, and Becca