We were walking through the Swaziland bush with our new friend, Mary. Mary is the pastor of the Mbutu Metropolitan Church and a true servant of Christ. We had asked if we could visit some homes in the community and she agreed to be our guide and translator. When we set out on this Wednesday afternoon I had no idea that Mary was going to rock so many expectations and preconceived notions I had about pastors.
Let’s back up and set the scene at the Metropolitan church. There is nothing Metropolitan about it in American standards. The church is a small, concrete building that literally consists of only wooden benches and a lace covering over a table that serves as an altar. It is set off a dirt road, that is set off another dirt road and there is nothing assuming about the place. In fact, we all kind of chuckled that it was called the Metropolitan church. Worship was basic and the “band” consisted of a tambornine played by a girl about 12 years old. But, there was life in this place. The Spirit of the Lord had definitely found favor here and was evidenced by the crowded benches and speaking of tongues that flowed throughout the entire service.
Sean, one of my teammates, lost to me at rock, paper, scissors, and was asked to preach a message. He did a fantastic job and was asked to come back every night to speak more on what the Lord was teaching him. We also inquired about a women’s bible study, children’s program, etc�It still amazes me how doors are swung wide open every time we walk in a church. The hospitality is amazing.
We agreed to return on Wednesday for the home visits and we set out about 1pm.
We had a few hours to spend with Mary, the pastor, and Smah, her assistant. We are miles from civilization, truly amidst the African bush and living the dream! The first home that we enter is that of a woman who has been paralyzed for quite some time after a stroke and basically immobile. We are greeted with smiles and large welcomes and enter her bedroom. I am struck by the stench in the room and also the large quantity of flies all over this women’s body, most notably her face. You can also tell the large amount of love and care that surround her as well. She is cared for day and night by her sister-in-law. We approach the bed to pray for her and this is when Mary blows me away. She does not politely stand aside and hold the women’s hand, as I have seen done in the past, but she climbs in the bed with her. She climbs behind her and sits as if she is a pillow so that the ailing woman can be propped up to see us. Did you catch that? She is IN the BED with the sick women truly holding her up.
It is expected that I will pray first and lead a prayer of healing for this woman, and I can barely catch my breath through tears of what I am seeing. Never have I been so moved by the servanthood that is displayed right before my eyes. It was a true picture of Jesus washing the feet of His disciples.
We continued our walk with Mary and she led us to another home that held a man dying of AIDS and we watched as she kneeled on the floor to pray as the rest of us prayed for this man. We returned to the church and I continue to be awestruck by the example she has given me. Her parting words to us were that we were an encouragement to their church body and that she was glad that we had come. She has no idea the example that she is for all of us. I want to be the woman who climbs in bed to hold up a fellow sister in Christ, I want to be one whose heart is so buried in His heart that it can not be separated.
Who can you hold up today? If the opportunity is presented will you climb in their bed and hold them up for prayer? I can’t think of a better way to spend my Wednesday afternoon. Can you?
