Life over limb
November 5th 2017
Disclaimer: hard things happened this week and this includes graphic information. Be advised.
This is a very serious update. Usually the stories I tell are light hearted and fun but not this one. This is going to be really hard to post. In fact it might a very very very delayed post but I believe it is time to tell you all about what happened.
It’s Sunday and the three teams that were in mokhotlong are now headed to the capital of Lesotho called maseru. A six hour drive. We had all just been done celebrating with the church we have been serving at and they all gave us a loving send off. There were so many tears and words of encouragement as just life spoken to all. Then we left. We went down the mountain on the most beautiful drive I have ever been on still in awe of what I’m seeing even though we saw it on the way up to mokhotlong. Then we stop at this view point. The same view point we saw on our way up. I’m not sure why we stopped the waterfall was all dried up and we already had a bunch of pictures from the first time we were there but it’s fine.
After about ten minutes we all hop back inside the vans and continue on our beautiful drive down the mountain. And then we arrive. Not to Maseru but the destination God intended us to be at in that exact moment of time.
Debris everywhere.
Bodies all over the road.
Blood everywhere.
Broken beer bottles. Everywhere.
A one car crash, causing all this mess.
We got out of the car. I walked towards the scene and I see the bodies. There was one person suck half was underneath the van people already at their side. I see a woman sitting up crying. I run to her. I comfort her. I prayed over her. God had given me the words to speak to her. She was crying out to God I told her He wants to be her comfort. But I couldn’t handle it. I broke down. I went back to the car and started crying. It was too hard to look at.
But then God said, “get your butt back over there and help you know what to do.” God gave me the courage.
So I grabbed my water bottle and all of the medical supplies I had with me. I ran to those who were sitting up and gave them Advil for the pain and some water. The little thing that could not really help but I have the Faith and Trust God would do the rest. Then I remember the gloves. My first job as a lifeguard reminded me to bring gloves to the world race. I put some gloves on walked up to my friends Will and Kathrine and asked them how I can help.
They handed me gauze and told me to apply pressure to a woman’s head. I didn’t even think she was alive but she was. I went right in. With Katherine by my side I held her bloody head in my hands. Her wrist was broken at an almost 90 degree angle. There was flesh missing from her feet. There were tiny shards of glass all over her face, even her eyes. She was not speaking. Her eyes were closed. I thought she was a lost cause, yet I stayed. Katherine and I started praying over her. We prayed for peace, for healing, for awareness, for comfort. Then we started praying in tongues. The second we were praying she became responsive and started to speak to us. We do not speak Sesotho but we did continue to pray. We asked a man next to us what she was saying and she kept saying she was tired.
She just wanted to sleep but we kept her awake. We kept praying and talking to her and she was even more responsive. Then she spoke in English, “I’m tired,” she would say “You have to stay awake,” we would reply. The only thing I could think to do while holding her was to sing. The Holy Spirit prompted me to sing a song we had been singing all of our African journey:
“There’s no one there’s no one like Jesus. There’s no one there’s no one like Him” Over and over. She kept saying she was tired but she was able to tell us about her pain in other parts of her body. We prayed for more healing. And then back to singing, “There’s no one there’s no one like Jesus. There’s no one there’s no one like Him” It didn’t feel real. It still doesn’t feel real. She tried to sleep and then Kathrine and I both started singing. “Holy Spirit you are welcomed here come flood this place and fill the atmosphere,” Finally, a truck came for the survivors and with one other survivor inside, we had to help this woman in. Still holding her head we had to lift her into the car. She was afraid, she was in pain, she didn’t want to move but she had to. I told her she was strong I told her God was proud of how good she is doing. I told her she could do it. We lifted her and got her in. We needed to push her farther into the truck. On my go “One. Two. Three.” She was in now, seeing her sat up, I was able to pick glass out of her hair. We laid her back down.
Then another woman covered in blood. Her spine was completely broken and twisted. We lifted her into the truck. Her face was so swollen. Then off they went.
I turned to see who was still left. There were eight bodies on the ground, but none were alive. Looking death in the face. Seeing life holding on by a thread. Not understanding why every emergency number Bella called denied being able to come due to the distance of the scene. Knowing God has protected us by having us stop at the view point. Knowing God had a purpose for us in that moment. The honor of serving in a way I never thought I would serve. Still not able to get the images of those who died out of my head. Clothes ripped off with only undergarments showing. Eyes rolled to the back of the head. Chunks of flesh missing. God’s creations tossed onto the ground. I faced all of that but am able to remember the reason God brought me there in that moment. He had me speak life.
Yahweh.
The word is even in our breath. Breathing in and out. I spoke Yahweh over those who still had breath.
Papa,
Thank you for your protection over us. Thank you for the love you had me show those who survived. I am honored to be able to stop my life to speak life into others. I am honored to take the cost of discipleship and look at death in the eyes. I am honored to have brought your glory by praying healing over all those who survived. I am honored to serve you. Humble Father, you never once told me this was trip about You, instead You said it was for them. All of your children who don’t know you yet. Glorious Father, thank you for your love. Thank you for being in the moments where it does not even seem like you are there at all. You gave me Your Spirit You moved through me. You sent your Son to die for us so that we can be with You. Life on Earth is vapor, but You…You invited me into Your Kingdom and I gladly excepted that invitation. I became overcome with excitement to tell others because You want all to enjoy Your love. I cannot praise You enough! Thank you Graceful Father. Thank you.
-Your little lamb,
Ana
