Isaiah 55:10-11

A sweet, sweet friend shared this passage with me that helped her while she was in San Antonio for two months. Like me, she had a hard time knowing how much effort, heart, and time she put in her ministry, yet never knowing if it would make a difference...

"As the rain & the snow come down from heaven, & do not return to it without watering the earth & making it bud & flourish, so that it yields seed forth sower & bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire & achieve the purpose for which I sent it." -Isaiah 55:10-11

She said we were there to "plant seeds" which I've heard time and time again, but it's oh so true. While I was in Swazi, I think I kept missing the point, missing the big picture. Sometimes I just thought, 'All I'm doing is playing with some kids'....'All I'm doing is holding her hand'...'All I'm doing is showing her my love.'...'How can that make a difference?' But we were sharing GOD's love. Not just our own. Sometimes it's discouraging to do short-term mission work because in most cases you don't see the fruit of your work, of your effort. We were planting seeds. And that's what we were called to do. One day maybe they'll remember me holding their hand. Maybe one day they'll remember the love I showed them. And maybe they'll realize that love came from somewhere else. Maybe they'll go searching for the truth. And maybe, just maybe they'll find it. We may never see the fruit of it, but we did our part, and that should be good enough for us. We should have trust that God will do the rest, that He'll do His part.
When it was time to leave, I saw so much hurt, so much brokenness, so much heartache. I thought, 'What was the point?' What was the point of staying for two months, building incredible relationships, only to leave. Only to break their hearts. Only to cause pain. Why? What was the point? Well, I don't know how God's going to work in it, but I know He will. I know He'll use that brokenness, that heartache to bring glory to Himself. I know He'll use that to change their lives. I know He'll come through and do His part. I have to put trust in Him that it wasn't for nothing. Because at the end of the day you have to have faith, you have to have trust.

Philippians 1:3

"I thank my God every time I remember you." You have no idea how incredibly thankful I am for you guys. You were with me each step of the way. Before I went to Swazi, you gave. You gave your prayers, you gave financially, you gave your encouragement, you gave your love. While I was in Swazi, you continued to give. You prayed. You fought for me and for my team. You were with me each step of the way, and I was always thinking of you. You guys went to Swazi this summer too, and for some of you, a little part of you is still there. And now, I'm back in the States. Depressed. In a foul mood. Not any fun to be around. Yet you still give. You give your love, you give your prayers, you give your encouragement. I would have never been able to do this without you. You helped love on these children. You helped build carepoints. You helped heal the sick. You helped encourage the oppressed. You helped defend the cause of the fatherless. You helped plead the case of the widow. You. You were there each step of the way, and I could never, ever thank you enough. I'm so blessed to call you friends. I'm so blessed to call you sisters in Christ.

So much despair, yet so much beauty

One of the things we discussed while we were in Swazi was how much the country reminded us of death and despair, yet how incredibly beautiful God made it. When I first got back to America, I was taken aback by how green it was. I didn't really fully realize it in Swazi, but everything is brown. There's dust everywhere. There's no grass, and the little grass that was there is was brown. There are thorn bushes everywhere and so many thorns on the ground (trust me, my feet know all too well about those darn thorns). There were these trees/bushes that we called death bushes. They were intense. The thorns on them were at least 4 inches long. But everything was death and despair, yet it was so incredibly beautiful. Sometimes we just had to stop and look in awe at what God has made. And the stars there. They were unlike anything I've ever seen. I wish we could have captured it so we could share it with you guys, but that's kind of the beauty of it too. It just can't be captured because it's so incredible.
The landscape of Swazi is so much like the people there. So much despair, yet so much beauty. We saw sickness. We saw helplessness. These people have nothing. They wear the same clothes day in and day out simply because they can't afford more clothes. There are children running around naked just because there is no money for any kind of clothing. People sleep in freezing cold weather, with intense winds just because they don't have money to fix the gaping holes in the sides of their houses. We met one lady on a home visit that can barely walk because of some kind of illness, so all she can do is lay on the concrete floor inside her hut. There were no mattresses, no mats, just concrete. And the house was falling apart. I can't even describe it. I said there were gaping holes, but imagine ten times worse than that. And the night before was one of the coldest nights we had, probably below freezing. And the wind was insane; we could hear the roof of the center blowing and shaking because it was so windy. We got to sleep in nice, warm sleeping bags while this woman and her children possibly had a cover, if that. She slept on the cold, concrete floor. And I can't even imagine when it rains. Like I said, despair, poverty, brokenness, sickness, death. And even with all these things these people are fighting against, they find so much joy in life and so much joy in the Lord. So much despair, yet so much beauty. Their faith was incredible. Inspiring. These people have nothing and need so much, and they have so much faith that their Father will provide. We went there to try and be a blessing to them, but we left with them being such a bigger blessing to us than we could ever dream of being. The things they were thankful for was incredible. If you were to ask someone here what they were most thankful for, they'd say their house, their car, their iPhone, you name it. We asked the Swazis so many times what they were thankful for, and nine times out of ten they were thankful for their lives. They were grateful just to still be living. I don't know about you, but I don't really think about being thankful for my life. I don't know if it's because we don't see as much death as they do, but I definitely take my life for granted. They see death and sickness every single day so they don't take their lives for granted like we do. They know it's a huge possibility that they might not be alive the next day or that they may lose a child the next day to AIDS, or TB, you name it. And with all this, they still find joy out of life. They find joy in the little things. There was a boy at our carepoint who loved playing with a tire. He'd play with it for hours. Can you picture an American kid finding joy and contentment out of playing with a tire? All the toys they had were broken. They loved playing with this broken bicycle around the center that would most likely be in a dumpster here. It didn't have a seat. Either one or both of the pedals were missing. It only had one tire. Yet they played with it and they loved it. They find joy in so many little things that we pass off as garbage. They find such joy in life that we take for granted everyday. These people are incredibly beautiful. Their hearts are unbelievable. Their faith is incredible. So much despair, yet so much beauty.

Despair. Hopelessness. Poverty. Brokenness.

Death.

Beauty.









"From the highest of heights to the depths of the sea
Creation's revealing Your majesty..."

Neliswa

I only knew Neliswa for a month, but she instantly melted my heart. We were split into 4 ministry groups and each group went to 2 carepoints each week. Halfway through our trip, our groups were all changed around and we got new carepoints after building relationships for the past month. Needless to say, I was a little upset, but it ended up being a huge blessing, partly because of this little girl. She's absolutely precious. I only saw her 3 days. You'd think I wouldn't get that close to a kid after only seeing them 3 times, but I did. The first week we went to this carepoint, I had to stay at the center because my stomach was hurting so bad because of the worms (We didn't know they were worms at the time). Looking back, I wish I had just sucked it up because I would have gotten another day with Neliswa. The following week was my first time at that carepoint. There wasn't any food, so the gogo there wasn't expecting many kids unless they just came because they saw white people. I'm not sure why, but I was just drawn to Neliswa. She's a beautiful girl, and she's kind of different than the others.... even though her hair is super short, you can tell it's somewhat blonde. She's such a sweet girl. She would always kiss me on the cheek and forehead. If I kissed her, she kissed me back. She has one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. I just love her. We would always just sit together, usually not talking because she didn't know English.
One of my favorite memories is when she came to our party (we killed a cow and fed a ton of kids and the community at a "party" we had the Saturday before we left). I held her the majority of the day. We just sat together like we did at the carepoint and sometimes we would play patty cake games. She started getting sleepy and then she slept on me for a good hour. I wouldn't give that up for anything. I don't know when the last time she was able to fall asleep in someone's arms and I'm so grateful God let me be that for her. After about an hour or so, some people were going to the grocery store nearby so I decided to go with them because Neliswa was somewhat waking up already. We got to the store and we were buying soda and stuff for all the kids that came with us. I didn't have any money so Anna bought me a Fanta. As she was handing it to me, Neliswa interceded and started gulping it down :). So, Anna got me another one. Seeing Neliswa drink that soda was one of the most precious things I've seen. Once we got back to the party, kids were all lined up getting food, so I let Neliswa go get her some food. I didn't see her for a long time. Finally, one of the buses that brought the kids to the center was back. I didn't think much of it, then later I saw Chelsea saying bye to one of her kids. I instantly thought of Neliswa and ran to bus, hoping I wasn't too late. She was in line to get on the bus to grabbed her before she could get in it. I hugged her as tight as I could and got a few kisses before the teacher told me she had to go. Ok, journal time because I have a terrible memory... "I stepped back and just thinking about never seeing her again made me start tearing up. Then some of the team came out of the house with tons of balloons and got on the bus and gave all the kids balloons. I remember thinking how unfair it was that they got to be the last ones that saw my little girl. I wanted to get on that bus, scoop her up in my arms, and never let go. A little later, I went on the other side of the bus and found Neliswa and pressed my hand against the window. She then did the same. Finally, I realized that I could open the window. I got to hold Neliswa's hand and see her beautiful smile once more. When it was time for them to go, I kissed Neliswa's forehead and then she kissed mine. I had to wave goodbye to her and it was such a hard thing to do. The girl slept on me for an hour that day. We had an instant bond at the carepoint. You can't just casually say goodbye and not have your heart broken. I walked away and tried not to think about it. Then the van drove away. Drove away with kids we'll probably never see again." Needless to say, there were tears. I will probably never see Neliswa again, but she'll always have my heart. I hate this. I hate knowing I'll probably never get to kiss her again or hold her again. I love her dearly.

Neliswa at our carepoint

At the party



Sleepy girl :)



Neliswa and her Fanta :)

Colile

She was the sweetest, funniest, loving little girl I've ever met. One that will always be dear to my heart. She and her little sister, Phetsile, were considered "mine" while we were in Nsoko. Until they met EB about halway through the trip, but Colile always remembered me. They would always run to the center, see me, and jump into my arms. It was the sweetest thing ever, I miss it so stinking much. They would NEVER wear their shoes even though had them, and I would joke with them saying the only reason they didn't wear them was so I would carry them. They really didn't know what I was saying because they didn't understand English that well, but Colile would always say, "Yes" with a huge grin on her face and start laughing. I miss the times when I would carry Colile on my back to the center from the soccer field/primary school. I miss her running up and jumping into my arms. I miss twirling her around until I was too dizzy to stand. I miss playing games with her. I miss everything about her. Her smile. Her laugh. She has such a beautiful laugh. I miss her loving heart and the way she looks after Phetsile. Colile always wanted to share her food with me. Even though she barely had anything, she'd still want to share it with me. One time she was eating a grapefruit, and made me eat part of it. Another time she was eating beans or something and made me try it. She was always sharing. Always giving. Such a beautiful heart. Eleven year olds here in America aren't like that. They're different there. Everything is different there.
I remember one day the week before we were leaving when I was holding Colile. One of the Swazis asked me about us leaving. So, I had to explain to them that we were leaving to go home... talk about depressing! Colile gave me this look like, "Are you being serious right now?" (see photo below) and then she did a fakecry on my shoulder. Even though she was faking it, it was still extremely sad and that's when it started setting in that we were leaving so soon. Gosh, I miss her so much and it breaks my heart to think about the possibility of never seeing her again. She touched my heart in so many ways and I will never, ever forget her. When I have a daughter, I'm naming her Colile. She will never leave my heart.

She just makes me smile

This is the look she gave me when I told her we were leaving the following week



The day I left



Colile, Phetsile, and I

Uncomfortable

Living an uncomfortable life. It's what we're called to do. I was "uncomfortable" but the world's standards for 2 months. And it was the best 2 months of my life. And now, here at home, I'm still being called to live an uncomfortable life, and God keeps reminding me of that. I don't exactly have a lot of money, and have no way of making any at the moment. I'm trying to get a job, and I'm waiting for my loan to go through. And until this happens, I have $13 to live off of. I've been craving Chick-fil-a since I was in Africa, but I've been fighting temptation to eat there. I don't like eating cereal with no milk, but I can't spend the money on milk. If anyone knows my eating habits, I HATE eating leftovers, but I've been eating them and have to make them last as long as I can. Yes, it's stressful; it's uncomfortable. But then I'm reminded of my summer. I'm reminded of the kids who are lucky enough to have one meal a day. I'm reminded that their bellies are hardly ever full. I'm reminded that I'm called to live an uncomfortable life. Now, I know whether I'm full or not doesn't affect the big scheme of things, but it reminds me of Nsoko and what it taught me. And I prayed that God would remind me every single day of my summer, so I guess this is just an answered prayer :)

Love.

God did big things this summer, and one of those things was continuing to teach me to love. He showed me a lot about physical touch, not only in my life and my own love language, but also the impact it had on the kids in Swaziland. I think God had me sick all the time for this reason, or at least it was one of the reasons. As much as I wanted to run around and play with the kids all day long, I just couldn't all the time. I was weak and tired 75% of my time in Nsoko. Not a huge deal, but still, I went half way across the world to play with kids and show them the love of Christ. How could I do that by just sitting there? The kids received SO much love just by sitting there and holding my hand or sitting in my lap. The biggest instance of Him showing me the impact of physical touch was in a precious girl named Bongiwe, which I've already blogged about. The first night we bonded through physical touch when she slept on me. And after that, every time we spent time together, it was usually holding hands, sitting together. There was never any talking really, because she knows very little English. So we just sat. And held hands. And thinking about it, you wouldn't really think a close relationship would form from that just because we didn't really know anything about each other. But God really showed me the impact our love had the last couple days I was in Nsoko. On Sunday, the day before we left, Bongiwe found me after church. She had been in children's church and they had drawn pictures. Bongiwe gave me a piece of construction paper that she had drawn a kombi (van) pulling a trailer. She also wrote, "Goodbye" & "I love you Sara." As soon as she handed me that piece of paper, tears started rolling down my face. How could I be leaving this precious girl and possibly never seeing her again? And the next day.... oh man, was it hard. I think I cried the most of our whole team (be proud Lambda family). Bongiwe was there first thing in the morning. She had skipped school just to be there. When we were finally done with our chores I was able to go outside and hold her hand.... for the last time. She was standing there and tears started slowly rolling down her cheeks. After a little while, we were sitting down next to the house.... holding hands and crying together. Eventually she had her head in my lap, and the girl was sobbing. She was sitting there, holding my hand, with her head on my lap, bawling for at least an hour. And I'm not even exaggerating. Her shirt was soaked with her tears, and even my jeans were soaked as well. The same girl that I had exchanged very few words with was bawling on my lap because she didn't want me to leave. I was able to show her love just by sitting with her. Just by holding her hand. And I always have to remind myself that the only reason I'm able to love in the first place is because of Christ. One of my team members put it perfectly in a letter she wrote me. She said, "It's like God's love pours out into you and you let it fill you up AND THEN you let it overflow and touch everyone around you." I thought this was such a good visual. God pours His love into us, and we're able to let it overflow into the people around us. And even though I wasn't able to show this girl my love through conversations and games and playing, I was able to show just as much love, if not more, by just simply holding her hand.