The doctor looks at me and says, “Don’t let this break your heart. It happens every day.” But, that breaks my heart even more. So, here I am. In Africa. In Swaziland. Playing Duck Duck Goose with pre-schoolers everyday, and I have to believe that this is bringing the Kingdom near to them. And while it is, it also opens the door for bigger and more desperate calls. Yesterday after a very long day of ministry at the pre-school, a day filled with teaching bible stories to the children, games, and songs, we walked down a dirt road to teacher’s house. Teacher is a sweet lady and a very good teacher for the forty-five children she pours her heart into each day. She is middle-aged, unmarried, and has three daughter who also have their own children and who all live in the same home. Their home is nice for Swazi standards, several rooms, furnished. My team and I spread out on her couches and between the heat and the nine hour day that we had already put in, we pass out asleep. An hour later our contact Corine tells us that in a nearby home lives a young lady who is dying with Tuberculosis and AIDS. She has three children; a 7yr old, 3yr old, and infant. They all have different fathers (who are not in the picture) and no grandparents. The home is filled with drunkeness and neglect. Their mother no longer wants to live. My team immediately asks to go and pray. “So they departed and went through the towns, preaching the gospel and healing everywhere.” -Luke 9:6 “Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out demons. Freely you have received, freely give.” -Matthew 10:8 “O Lord my God, I cried out to You, And You healed me.” -Psalm 30:2 Stuck in flashbacks of my own life, where my own mother was on her death bed, suffering from disease, I think about her beautiful girls- the infant who will never know her mom, the three year old who will wish she had more time, and the seven year old who is just old enough to retain everything she has seen and will live with these scarring memories for the rest of her life. My heart breaks for them. I’m trying not to cry. I decide that there is a reason to cry. Zandelay speaks three words. “I love Jesus.” They are words I didn’t expect to come from her mouth. Ones I hoped were true. Along side the preschool, Zandelay and her children are our ministry this week. We plan to get Zandelay a Swazi Bible. We’ve admitted her into the hospital for the night to get some IV fluids into her body since she has not eaten in days. Her children are not being taken care of by her and they may have TB, so we are getting them tested and (without a child protective service to take care of the matter) are doing the best we can to find them a home in an orphange that will feed, clothe, and love them during this time. And, of course, we are praying.
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“Whatever city you enter, and they receive you, eat such things as are set before you. And heal the sick there, and say to them, “The kingdom of God has come near to you.” -Luke 10:8-9
I never thought that doing pre-school ministry would provide opportunities to minister to their unsaved family members, some of which are sick and dying. Sometimes after being in ministry for many, many months you may find yourself in a place where you wonder what you are really even doing for the Kingdom of God. Am I really making a difference? Am I really changing the world? Or am I just playing Duck Duck Goose with kids and having my own life changed because I gave up a few things by leaving America? This has been burning in my mind, especially in the places where the hurt and pain I see overwhelms me. While I know the truth that God has indeed told me to come to these places and simply share His love, I still feel so small and insignificant at times. I want to fix everything. I can’t.
I walk into the small home. Dark. Empty. Dirty. Hopeless. One bed. She is fragile, thin as a rail. A baby and another small girl sitting in the corner. Two of her daughters. A particular smell that makes me sick to my stomach. Human urine. We gather around the young lady as Corine is explaining that she must take her pills, which she has failed to do previously, mainly because she doesn’t want to live. I wonder to myself just how many people are in this same situtation. How many mothers? How many children? I’m sure it’s more than I can handle to know. Then Corine tells our team that through teacher as the translator we can speak whatever we want over this lady. Her name is Zandelay. My heart stopped in my chest for just a moment.
I can not just not say anything to her. Freak out moment in my mind. What do I say to a young girl living a lifestyle of prostitution and drunkeness, with no husband to rely on, no father for her three children, dirt poor, with no hope, sick with disease, no hope of living, and no reason to even live? What do I say!? I see the outside of her, but I can’t imagine what she is going through on the inside. Who am I to speak into her life? She doesn’t know me. She probably thinks I am this perfect and rich American missionary who has it all put together… Of course she loves Jesus. Nothing too bad has ever happened to her. She’s had it made all her life. She doesn’t know me, what I’ve been through, or what I’ve done.
“Open your mouth, judge righteously. And plead the cause of the poor and needy.” -Proverbs 31:9
Thank God someone else moved. My teammate Lauren sits on the floor below the bed and prays. Then, Ashley does the same. Corine tells her why we have come. She asks if she knows Jesus. Zandelay says, “no.” Kaitlyn shares the entire gospel in a simplified way, emphasizing her forgiveness and that all she has to do is believe in and love Jesus. I look to see that the room is completely filled with neighbors who also do not know Jesus. Yes! Everyone has just heard the gospel. I sit down and share a part of my testimony with Zandelay. I encourage her not to give up, to take the pills, to fight. To do it for her daughters and pray to Jesus for healing. Annee shares that although we want her body to be healed, it is her heart and soul that are more sick and more important. I completely agree. (I love how my team speaks the same language, the language of the same Spirit living inside us.) She moves on to say that a healed soul will live forever, but a sick one will go to a place filled with more pain than she has ever experienced on earth. We emphasize the urgency.
Zandelay’s middle child, 3yrs old. She just started attending our preschool, so I get to spend everyday with her. She’s precious.
