Seeing as I’m months behind in blogs, bear with me as I play ‘catch-up’ these next few days and tell a favorite story or lesson from each month up until now. Today’s story comes from Swaziland, my third and last month in Africa, a month of gardening, constant community, Spiritual heaviness, freedom, and so many brown-eyed babies. This story comes from a day of ministry in Nsoko, Swaziland at a Care Point, where God showed up in the form of a two-year-old child.
Swaziland, Africa has been one of my favorite months of the Race so far, but also one of the hardest. The spiritual warfare was so intense that every morning I felt as though I was headed into battle, fighting lies of worthlessness, hopeless, and pure exhaustion. Each day the enemy told me that I wasn’t loved, wasn’t worth pursuing, and not worth investing time into. I didn’t see how the people around me were pursuing my heart, but more importantly, I didn’t understand that each day the Lord was pursuing me as well. So often throughout my days in Nsoko I found myself crying out to God to show me how He loved me, how He pursued me, and how He invested in my life and even more, that He was even there walking through this darkness with me, lighting my path with His love.
Toward the end of the month I had had enough… I was tired of seeing the enemy try to kill, steal, and destroy everything beautiful going on around me. I was sick and tired of feeling, and even worse, believing, that I was alone. And one day, the Lord showed me His love in the sweetest of ways.
It was a normal day in Nsoko… We set off in the morning to various care points around the village (Care points are small community areas where a grandmother of the village (called a ‘Gogo’) goes each day to prepare beans and rice for the children in the area. This meal is usually the only meal they will eat each day and anywhere from 25 to 70 children are fed at ten different care points in Nsoko.) A few of us traveled to one of the further care points to ‘cut’ grass (which involves basically slashing a machete in waste-high grass), eat a lunch of rice and beans, and just play with the children while we were there.
I saw her right away, this little girl with no shoes on, wearing pink pants and a pink shirt that was far too small for her worm-infested, bloated belly. She was one of the smallest children at the care point and had chubby cheeks that stole my heart the moment I locked my eyes on her. I immediately went up to her and tickled her, expecting to get the same laugh I had gotten out of every other child. But this little girl just stared at me, a blank expression on her face, her mouth set grimly in a straight line. No reaction; nothing. And so I picked her up and she sat stiffly in my arms, not quite sure what to do with this over-excited white woman who instantly fell in love with her. It was obvious that she wasn't feelin' the love back. I tried talking to her, making faces, swinging her around, and still the blank expression filled her face. So finally, I put her down, praying God will allow me to see her little smile before I left. I started slashing grass as the children filed into a tiny one-room school house to learn from a 'teacher' (most likely just a woman from the village volunteering her time) who probably had an education equivalent of 3rd or 4th grade in America. At one point I decided to take a break from slashing and went into the school house, sitting in the corner just watching, not wanting to be a distraction to the already rambunctious kids. And before I knew it, the same little girl came waddling over to me, turned around and plopped right into my lap. And that was it… For the rest of the day she was my little shadow, following me around, reaching her arms up every time she wanted to be held. She would laugh when I tickled her and wanted nothing more than to rest her head on my shoulder when I picked her up. She captured my heart and finally, I had captured hers too. I was content, loving on this child, wondering the last time she had been held so close or laughed so much. I was on cloud nine, because while I first chose to love on this baby girl, she chose to receive my love and give it right back.
It was late in the afternoon and most of the children had finished eating and returned home. My teammates and I were finishing slashing the grass and my little peanut was one of the only children left. She was running around with a little boy, playing in the dirt without a care in the world. All of a sudden though, she began to cry… And not just cry, but sob. I looked over and there she was, standing by herself in a pile of dirt, feet bare and tears streaming down her face with the sound of a siren coming out of her mouth. I stood there for a second just looking at her, my initial thoughts being that it was probably nothing, that the little boy must have done something to make her mad or maybe she was overtired. So I ignored her and went back to slashing away. But after another minute, she was still wailing just as loud, so again, I stopped and looked at her. And then it hit me. A child, a baby no more than 2 years old, was standing in the dirt crying and I wasn't doing anything to comfort her. God spoke to me so boldly in that moment saying…
My child, you want to see how I pursue you? Go and pursue my daughter.
Immediately I dropped my machete, walked over to her and picked her up. Instantly the crying stopped, the only remnants of anything wrong being the big crocodile tears slowly streaming down her cheeks. She looked at me, her browns eyes glistening, swung her arm around my neck and nestled her head into my shoulder. I walked over to a nearby building and sat on the stairs, my back leaning against the heavy door, and rearranged the little girl onto my lap. I swayed back and forth, rocking her to sleep, softly singing songs of praise over her sweet body. Before I knew it I awoke with a start. I had fallen asleep with her comfortably tucked in my lap, the steadiness of her breathing and the warm sun making us both unable to keep our eyes open. It wasn’t for long, maybe 15 minutes, but we were both sitting in the arms of God, His love filling us as He rocked us to sleep. I started praying when I woke up, thanking the Lord for the gift of this baby, and His truth flooded through me as I looked at her resting so sweetly in my arms.
Child, this is my love for you. The way you pursued this little girl is the way I pursue you everyday. You hurt and you cry, sometimes for no reason at all, but I am always there, never leaving your side. When you’re in the dirt, in the pit of life, I am faithful to draw you out. When you feel alone and abandoned, I lift you onto my lap and sing you sweetly to sleep. The love I have for you is unconditional, given freely without bounds at any and every moment because that is WHO I AM. I never withhold myself from you. I am your ever-present help in trouble, faithful to respond to each cry of your soul, but you must receive my love, my child, and soften your heart to my ways. Let me love you, love me care for you, let me make you smile. Trust in my unfailing love. Open your arms to me, because I am always reaching out.
The Lord knew I needed the sweet bundle of that baby girl even more than she needed me on that day in Swazi and I will never forget the words of truth He spoke to me. I am pursued. I am loved. I am worthy. And my Father is good. So very, very good.
One of my squad mates, Kirby, was sweet enough to snap a photo of my little girl and I sleeping on the steps. Such a precious gift.
