Her house was one of the ones that were very far up the mountain. Once you got to her front yard, you had to take a few minutes to catch your breath before doing anything else. In the month of January, my team and I went to the village nearest to us for ministry, going house to house and asking what people needed. Sometimes that looked like washing dishes or doing laundry, and other times that looked like praying and sharing a word. The first time I met her, my team and I were next door to her house spending time with a young mother and newborn infant. When we exited the house, a woman approached us and asked us to come next door. She said her mother was very sick and asked if we would pray for her. We agreed and followed her into her house and down a long, bright blue hallway.
I stepped into the back room and saw a small figure covered in a blanket, lying on a mattress on the floor. She was leaning up against the wall and seemed to be asleep. We asked if we could lay hands on her, and when her daughter agreed, we all got down on the floor and put our hands on her as she laid sleeping. As soon as our hands touched her, she sat up, alert and awake. She began talking rapidly and passionately in Sesotho as she jabbed at her side, indicating her pain. We didn’t understand what she was saying, but knew that she was in discomfort and just kept praying.
When we had finished our initial prayer, she began speaking rapidly again and weeping. She had one of us push into her side with our hands to relieve some of her pain. As we listened and sat with her, we began to worship. We would sing a song in English and then she would follow with a song in Sesotho. She wept as she cried out to God with simple melodies. One thing she kept repeating over and over how much she trusted in God and had faith in Him. She was constantly returning to Psalm 23, a Psalm that I learned during my time there that many people in Malealea treasured deeply because of the familiarity of its pastoral symbolism. Sitting there on the ground with this woman who I had just meant, holding her hand, and crying out to God and praising Him with her while she was in this place of deep pain and despair was one of the most beautiful and memorable things I’ve had the privilege of experiencing so far on this adventure.
We returned several times during the next few weeks to visit her. Each time, she was so excited to see us and talked all about how she had been waiting for us to return. We sang with her, praised the Lord with her, and listened to her rejoice and grieve in the Lord, even if we didn’t understand her words or comprehend the pain she felt. I looked forward to visiting her every time we were on her side of the village.
On our last day before leaving Lesotho, we went to go visit her one final time. I came with a poster I had made of Psalm 23 in Sesotho and a lollipop in hand. She received both gifts gratefully. We sang, shared, ate, and worshipped together on the floor of her small house for around three hours. We came with the intention of visiting other houses, but as soon as we began to settle in, it had just felt right to stay and spend time with her and her family. When it was time to leave, we prayed first over the family and then the old woman individually, thanking God for blessing us with a chance to spend time and feel at one with with these people. Leaving that little blue house and that little old woman for the last time, I knew that her faith and hospitality had had a deep impact on me. It’s one of the small moments and brief crossing of paths that life imparts that I know I’ll never forget.
I want to have faith like this woman. When I’m in the midst of deep pain, whether that be physical or emotional, and when I can’t see a way out of it, I want to cry out to my God like this woman did. I want to be in a posture of praising Him for His goodness and faithfulness when I don’t feel the emotional and physical proof of that in the moment. I want to be able to invite people into my pain, just like this woman did with us as complete strangers, and let them grieve with me, lift me up in prayer, and praise God for His goodness alongside me.
I know this is a small and simple story. I’m trying to get out of the mindset that every blog I write needs to be a profound revelation. I’m passionate about people and stories and man, do I have a lot of those from this adventure! This was something that was so simple but such a distinct and powerful piece of my time in Lesotho. From now on, I’m going to try to share more simple stories more often on this blog. God works in huge influential ways but my appreciation is growing for the ways He works in simple and short moments and relationships. They are so worthy of sharing!
It’s been a while so let me catch you up on where I am and what I’m doing: I left Lesotho and my beautiful Malealea Valley on the 23rd of January. It was a good goodbye with a lot of tears and hugs and notes exchanged. You don’t really know how much you’re loved or how much you love someone until you are apart!
About a week ago, I spent a few days with my lovely mother who flew all the way out to Swaziland to see me for the Parent Vision Trip. We helped at some feeding programs run by the wonderful Adventures Base in Swaziland together. It was super inspiring to see how that base runs and the practical ways it is empowering and developing the community. I encourage you to check it out! It was such a blessing to spend time with her and get to catch up.
Right now, I’m in Cambodia! I’m staying in Siem Reap for a week of debrief and an additional week of time with our whole squad. Tomorrow, I’ll find out where in Cambodia I’ll be staying for the rest of the three months and who my new team will be! So excited! Keep praying because God is doing things that are better than I could ask for or imagine :).
