Ministry in Swaziland was different than anything I had imagined. When I was told we were going to be doing hospital ministry all I could think about was how much I hate hospitals and death. My past experience with hospitals in Africa consisted of mainly people dying of HIV/AIDS who were literally at death's door. They were all crammed into a small room where there was hardly room to move between the beds. When they told us our ministry for the month all I could picture was a woman in a Zambian hospital reaching out to me and begging for death. To say the least I was far from excited about this month but knew God had a purpose.
The first day of ministry I arrived at Hope House with a smile on my face but worry and reservation in my heart. I got out of the Sprinter (bus), looked around, and immediately became confused. They definitely told us hospital ministry but this place looks NOTHING like a hospital. There are 20 plus different houses around the compound, a garden, several pavilions, and flowers lining the sidewalks.
(Entrance to Hope House)
(Hope House)
(Pavilion at Hope House)
Grow Freely Inc. and our team split the patients in half and we started our day. The first patient I met was Sebosaso, who was in the middle of breakfast when we entered. To say the least there was not a warm welcome which did not help my hesitation about this ministry.
The next house we went to was Kenny and his caretaker Joseph. Kenny did not speak much English or at least that's what we thought; by the end of our time there he was chatting to us non-stop. We decided to read some Bible verses to help break the tension in the room. Joseph was so intrigued that he found a Bible and began reading the verses with us and then writing them down to look at again later.
The third house we went to was Cindy's house, with her daughter, Candy, as her caretaker. Cindy and Candy both speak almost perfect English so it made our visit more enjoyable. Scobo, who was a patient that lived a few houses down, was also in there. He did not speak English but Candy translated for us.
The first two days there was a lot of silence that happened during our conversations. I wanted to get to know the patients but was not really sure how with the language barrier. God will always provide a way and He did. By the end of our time in Swaziland, I had built relationships with all the patients.
Scobo decided that he wanted to be called Mkhulua Scobo, which means Grandfather Scobo. He once told me that he would only pay a chicken and maybe a goat for my hand in marriage but the other girls he would pay 50 cows. He enjoyed teasing me. He reminded me a lot of my grandfather, Pops, at home. Even though we did not speak the same language, I felt like I was at home when he would talk. It was just like sitting around the living room, cracking pecans with my grandfather before I left for this trip. Mkhulua Scobo left over the weekend to go home and did not come back while we were still there, so I did not get a picture or get to say good-bye to him.
Candy and Cindy became a daily visit of about an hour or two. Cindy is partially blind so her 18 year old daughter had to do everything for her. Candy turned 18 while we were there so we threw her a birthday party and painted both her and Cindy's nails. Cindy loves gospel music and would teach us songs in Siswati. This house was one of the hardest to walk away from on our last day.
(Cindy and Candy)
Kenny, the former semi-professional soccer player, who could never guess my age correctly. He would always have us pray for him to heal him from his stroke.
(Kenny)
I think Sebosaso never really wanted to talk to us but we would find him and talk anyways. He would tell us that he loved us just to try and scare us off. I think he liked Allie the best since he let her paint his fingernail.
Timba, who has cancer, and his mother Esther, his caretaker were precious beyond all imagination. Esther is a strong Christian and I believe Timba is too but had a harder time communicating with us. Timba expressed to Esther how much he loved having us come and pray for him, that it gave him hope and made him feel better. As we said our good-byes, Esther cried, forcing us all to leave the house quickly so we wouldn't cry as well.
(Timba and Esther)
Sacreepa and his wife lived across the way from Timba. Sacreepa had a stroke and "lost all of his English words," but he could still understand us. The first time we met him, he was terribly distraught and wanted nothing more than to go home. By the time we were leaving, he was joyful and told us in English how happy our visits made him.
(Sacreepa and his wife)
Finally, we had a girl in her 20s who would not talk, eat, or drink. Esther told us it was a matter of days. We would still go in and sit by her bed, talk to her, and pray for her. We never learned her name or what truly was wrong. I believe she had HIV but the caretaker claimed TB.
There were many other patients there but these few were the ones I spent most of my time with. God really taught me about the importance of relationships and how much one relationship, one prayer, one smile, one laugh can impact the Kingdom of God.
(One smile, one laugh, one relationship, many prayers)
Here is a funny story for you:
God really has been molding and shaping me over the last couple of months. One of the things that I had mentioned earlier was the ability to distinguish between the spirit of God and of Satan. There was a group of ladies that would come to Hope House every Tuesday to pray. They would go around to each room and talk to them and then pray over them. My first encounter with them was in Cindy's house. When they came in, Candy immediately took off to the bathroom to hide. I was standing behind the women watching Cindy's face. The moment they started speaking I knew something was not right, that what was happening was not of God. When they all started praying over her my feelings were reaffirmed. They we speaking Siswati but I still knew. After they left, Candy returned, and I began asking Cindy about them. She wouldn't give me any answers but instead started singing and dancing to Siyahamba Ekukhanyeni Kwenkhosi (We are walking in the Light of God). I later found out that group of ladies believes in God but also has some witchcraft mixed in. The patients told me that healing would happen but other bad things would follow, like they put a curse on you and your family.
The following Tuesday they are back and now it's personal to me. By this time I had built relationships with the patients and couldn't bear the idea of anything happening to the people I have come to love. Allie, Courtney, and myself were all about to pray outside the girl's house who refused to talk, when I heard the group of ladies in the house behind me. I was running late that morning so I brought my bowl of cereal along with me to finish on the bus ride over. The emotion of irritation came over me so I did what every reasonable person would do, I threw my spoon towards the house, not even hitting it. Then the ladies started praying. Protection kicked in. I looked at my bowl, looked at the house, then back at my bowl. I aimed for the window and threw it. I hit it perfectly! Courtney took off running and Allie tried to bury herself in the wall. I stood there slightly proud of myself. I had accomplished my goal of breaking up the prayer! All I could think was "Nobody is going to cause my patients any more grief and think they can get away with it while I am here!" I quickly repented for my outburst, prayed for everyone at Hope House, and asked for anything that is not God to be removed. The ladies left shortly after that!
