The “no” without explanation that I had to deliver was to a small shaved head girl that I had met at one of the care points where we help three days a week doing feedings. She had just finished her 4 mile walk to school and it was 6:45 am. Her little smile was peeking through the front window of our home. “Britt, can I have some food? One piece of bread?” are the words that are resonating in my soul today. These words came from a young Swazi girl who stared at the mountain of eggs and toast on our table. Tattered school uniform, shoes with no laces and holes in the toes, dirt encrusted fingernails, are all visual memories I have of her, but her hungry belly is what has hit harder than a memory and left a crack in my heart today.
The girls sat at our window while we maintained normal American life inside inclusive of excessive amounts of food, some that shamefully still goes to waste. While they peer in the window calling my name they stare at the food and wriggle their little noses at the smells and I have to tell them that they can’t even have one piece. And this time it hurt more than any other time… Was this because these are kids I have made relationship with and knew? Was it because they gave me puppy dog eyes and verbally expressed their hunger? Was it because I knew the truth of their hunger more this month than any other because we walked the 8 mile walk that they walk every day to school?
What I expected myself to feel when my response is “no” without explanation was not what I was used to feeling. There are strict rules about what we hand out to the locals we encounter based on the hosts we stay with. They don’t want the people here to see foreign visitors as just opportunity to have their hands or bellies filled with something. The reality, which is beautiful but hard to consciously do, is that they would prefer a local be the one providing the help and that the foreign help is here supporting that group of locals. Putting practice into play is hard when you are approached with hungry hands reaching out to you and your plates inside are overflowing.
She also asked for fire wood. I had noticed the day before that all the kids were carrying sticks or pieces of wood and I had asked why they were carrying one stick such long distance. I had a reality check today and felt shameful of the ignorance I asked the question out of the previous day. The desperation for a piece of wood to burn, or even a slice of bread to fill an empty belly. All while we still live within the confines of glutton. We kill ourselves with food and they kill themselves for food. We, as a nation are stricken with glutton while they are struck with starvation. Our strongholds are mental and emotional while theirs are physical. There was a contrast that I was shown today that broke my heart for them. Sadly, this also sparked an apathy towards my own squad and home. Frustration towards what I perceive as the simplicity of our strongholds. God is still taking me to deeper levels of having my heart break for my own and the hardships that are realities for us. He has given me glimpses into these two things being equal in His eyes; both bringing him sadness. He is showing me where each of our poverties are and letting me experience his heart for those hurts and hardships just as much as these physical ones here. Is it easier to let my heart bleed for the starving children who use the bathroom outside with nothing but sticks and stones to clean themselves with? Yes. Is it right for me to feel more compassion for them than those that are starving and in poverty spiritually and emotionally? Probably not. While they are poor physically, they are so rich relationally and spiritually.
Job 7:11 – “so I won’t keep my mouth shut, but I will speak from distress that is in my spirit and complain about the bitterness in my soul.” Yes, I have bitterness towards North America and the lives we lead and the lack of gratitude. The distress in my soul is for the little girls of this story, not for people like myself in North America. I am learning a whole new level of grace. It is constantly being freely poured out to me as I walk through this within my own squad and journey, and I can only pray that God will transform my heart to truly pour that grace out freely as I prepare for transition home and for the final months abroad.
