She sits for hours hooking yarn into hats, scarves, mittens, headbands and other assorted clothing items as she hums Siswati hymns to herself. Flies collect around the rim of the coffee mug with remnants of her morning caffeine, and she gingerly swats them away without even looking their direction. The room is filled with joy and heartache alike as 10 of her friends and coworkers pile into the benches along the wall. Weary souls find comfort and relief in their daily routine of community, over the written word from the Lord.
The smell of pig slop and hard work hovers in the air, and then Auntie puts down her hook and begins the first song. She rises to her feet and begins to move with grace and power, both instilled in her as far back as the first time she could stand on her own two feet. Swaying back and forth, Auntie Julia and her sisters belt out their weary hearts to The Lord with smiles on their faces and tears making way down their cheeks.
One song flows into the next and each woman takes their turn singing out the lead, while others fall in behind her and hold her up with rich gritty melodies.
Minutes pass and the air begins to change. Goosebumps rise up on my arms, and tingles begin to travel across my neck. I join in as the women begin to pray Siswati prayers that become music to my ears as they flow in and out of the foreign clicks and trills of their native tongue.
I reminisce over the month’s conversations in broken English and emphasized body language, and my heart swells as tears fill my eyes.
Stories of abandonment, illness, abuse, and weariness flash through my mind and I can’t help but feel compassion and heartache for their conditions.
I am blown away by their commitment and reverence for the Lord despite their surroundings and I can’t help but wonder if I would be as steadfast in my faith when dealt the cards they’ve received.
Moments like these are the ones I savor, as I continue my trek to various places in the world — Raw, real, and simple. I would forfeit my western life for the incredible beauty of those moments. When the chaos of daily life abounds, I close my eyes and take myself back to that Swaziland Clinic, hum those hymns, and remind myself that He is the one my heart longs for.
