One of the things we wanted to do on this trip is to visit the Nsoko village that AIM is building. We got our chance to do that on Thursday. After taking a shuttle from Pretoria to Johannesburg, and then taking a bus to Swaziland, we spent the night in Manzini in the old team house where I stayed two years ago.
Thursday morning, we packed up out things again and Christine drove us to Nsoko. Soon after arriving, Pastor Gift loaded us into his car and drove us around to some of the care points. We had arrived a little later than planned though, and missed most of the kids. They had already eaten and left to return home. So Gift recommended that we get up early enough in the morning to be there when the kids arrive for breakfast.
On the way home, Gift took us on an unplanned detour, to visit a young woman who is sick. This young woman is dying of AIDS at twenty years. She lives alone with her mother who cares for her, and is often all alone when her mother has to go find work to provide for them. I had heard many of these stories, but I had not personally witnessed this kind of devistation before.
This young woman did not arrive in this situation by poor choices as some have. Rather, as is all too common here, she was raped and infected by family members. This young woman is suffering as a result of someone else’s sin.
When we walked into the dark hut, we could see her frail, boney body lying on a mattress on the floor. She was covered in heavy blankets in an attempt to warm her, but I suspect that it was in vain. Her body was covered in thick, scaley skin with open sores. It’s hard to imagine the pain and discomfort must torment her. I’m certain that she had bed sores as well from lying motionless for so long. We were told that she has been sick now for two years. Things do not look good for her.
I found it hard to grasp exactly what I was witnessing. It is so far from anything I have personally experienced. I didn’t know how to respond. Pastor told us that we could lift the covers and look, but it seemed so invasive. To be honest, I didn’t want to look or need to. I could see that this girl was suffering greatly. I can’t even begin to imagine what goes through her mind. How can one have hope when there body is literally falling apart?
I know that it is not too late for God to heal her, and I do not believe that this is God’s will for her life, but having faith that He will heal her is all together different. I want to believe that. It is the very thing that I struggle with in my own life; believing that God will have mercy and that God will heal. Somehow, no matter how much I believe that He can, I struggle to have the faith that He will. That’s a whole different topic, and maybe I’ll write about it someday, but the point is that I was brought once again to a place of confronting doubt or fear of disappointment.
We gathered around and prayed for her, the only thing we knew to do. As I knelt beside her, I touched her finger tips, the only thing exposed besides her face that was not covered in the thick scales. I wanted to touch her, to make contact and comfort her, but it was so uncomfortable for me. I felt bad for not wanting to touch her scaly flesh, and continued in my mind to will myself to just hold her hand, but I didn’t do it.
We prayed for her in English, and she just stared at us blankly, possibly not knowing at all what we were saying. Before we left, I knelt down one more time and whispered to her that she is so beautiful and that she did not deserve this. I wish that I could do more, but did not know what else to do, so we left. Later that night, before going to bed, I felt compelled to write her a letter. I gave it to Pastor Gift in the morning and asked him to translate it to Siswatti for her. If nothing else, I pray that is will bring her hope.
I have more to say about the carepoints, but my time is up and I must go.
Blessings to all of you at home.
