I am in AFRICA!
It is still hard to believe that those words hold truth. In one aspect, it seems like just another month on the race. In another, it seems like I am walking into a new chapter entirely.
Like always…
We arrive. (The scenery is BREATHTAKING!)
We settle into our new home. (Running water… in Africa! Can you believe it?)
We eat. (Their bread is called pau… pronounced pow, and we buy it fresh daily.)
We serve our ministry contact. (By loving on the sick, the hungry and the poor of our town.)
In so many ways, this is life on the Race. But still, I feel different.
The level of poverty and sickness here is unlike anything I have ever experienced. I feel a greater sense of sadness, urgency.
Each day, we follow our contact, Tiene, on his route of visits. One of his main missions is to care for those living with HIV/Aids. His code for infection is that a person is “on the program.”
As we meander along the dusty paths between homes, Tiene gives background information on the faces we will encounter.
“This woman is a widow on the program. Her husband moved to South Africa to find a job to support the family. There, he contracted the disease and then infected her. He died last year.”
“She lives alone. There is no family around to help in her paralyzed state. This elderly woman spends day in and day out lying on the dirt floor of her house. She moans in pain and loneliness.”
“These children have been orphaned. Three times. Their parents died from being on the program. Their grandmother and aunt passed away soon after. Other relatives and neighbors help out when they can; the kids basically take care of themselves.”
House after house. Face after face. We sit, we listen, and then, we pray.
Yesterday, I met a man named Samuel. He lives in a small house made of mud. As the main breadwinner of his family, he has lost all sense of self worth with the loss of his ability to work.
Why can’t he work? His arm was recently amputated. Why did he lose his arm? A simple cut on his hand was not cleaned properly; his hand became infected. The infection was not treated correctly at the clinic, and the infection spread.
Even with the loss of his arm, the infection still exists in his body. I am not a medically minded person, but from what I gathered from our translator, the infection is in his lymph nodes now. In addition, he is on the program.
The injustice. That was all I could think yesterday as I pictured how differently this scenario would have played out in the States. With adequate hygiene, the cut on his hand would have quickly healed. With accurate information and education on the ways HIV can be spread, he may have never been on the program.
My heart broke at the picture of this man, hopeless and despondent.
Turning to prayer. This is the theme of our month, because, what else is there to do? With each passing interaction with sickness, I become more desperate with my intercessory requests. As a team, we find ourselves asking for compassion and pleading for healing, seeking some sense of comfort for these broken people.
After our visit with Samuel, we were taken to a house that I figured was the home of another person on the program. Instead, we found ourselves kneeling around a sweet woman named Anjelica. We were brought to meet her because she has been following Christ for many years. She is wise Christian leader in the community, and we asked if she had any advice for us.
With smiling eyes, she looked at each of us and told us to keep going.
“Visiting people. Praying for them. It matters. It matters more than you know. Keep doing it.”
It was such encouragement after a tolling day. I still don’t understand the whys when it comes to the pain I am witnessing, but I’ve stopped trying to figure it out.
In Luke chapter 10, Jesus sends out the seventy-two to prepare his way.
He tells them in verses 8-9, “When you enter a town and are welcomed, eat what is set before you. Heal the sick who are there and tell them, ‘The kingdom of God is near you.’”
The entire passage brought comfort as the Lord reminded me that the goal of our time spent here is to bring His kingdom. Pain of this earth is temporary.
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. Revelation 21:10
Amen to that.
