Dear people of ESwatini, I can’t imagine what you’ve seen. I can’t imagine the valleys you’ve been through. Yet you are here and still smiling. You are warriors. Parents, you are up before the sun peaks over the horizon, working on the homestead with eager hands. You are out late until the moon glances over the mountain peak to gather for your family with eager hearts. You are so persistent. Children, you walk for miles to get to the nearest care point with tattered clothes and worn out mix-matched shoes. You carry your little sister or brother on your hip even though you are only five. You play all day under the scorching sun, eat a hot meal, listen to a bible lesson in a stuffy room, and walk all the way back home every day. You are so strong. Local believers, you feel alone in your walk of faith. Everywhere you turn, there seems to be people who are lost and desperate for a savior and who mock you for following Yahweh alone. Without a doubt, it is overwhelming and lonely. You are so steadfast.
Dear people of Eswatini, I love your heart. I am intrigued by your joy. I am flabbergasted by your contentment. Missionaries flock to Africa like birds in the winter; they come to serve and to teach. I came for the same reason. However, people of Eswatini, you have blessed me and taught me so much beyond my expectation. I go into my day praying that the Lord will fill me up with His love so I overflow into you. Yet, no matter how much I pour into you and love you, my soul isn’t tired or worn out, you pour right back into me. You laugh and giggle all day, you dance constantly, you braid my hair, make fun of my name, try to remove my tattoos. You invite me into your church, you sing with me, you pray with me, you call me sister.
Dear people of Eswatini, you live in a beautiful country with beautiful locals. Every single day I am reminded of how great our God is. I am breathless by the colorful canvas as the sun retires at night and the sky glorifies God’s creativity. I am taken back by the mountains outside my room, and yet even in all their splendor, they will bow to our God. I stare at the vast array of stars that cover the sky and I am reminded of how worthy He is to worship. I see the children waving and screaming at our bus as we leave and I am overwhelmed with admiration for God’s creation. I shake hands with a Coco and with a firm grip I meet a woman who has seen and experienced so much; her testimony strengthens my hope and confidence in the Lord. I see a shy local who smiles and looks away when I wave and attempt a Siswati greeting, what an innocent encounter with one of God’s children. I listen to a Swazi woman teaching about Jesus calming the storm and I feel encouraged and overjoyed that God is glorified all over the world.
Dear people of Eswatini, I speak hope over you. May your hope come from the Lord, because we are confident that He is good. We know there are better days for those who believe in Him, if not on earth then in heaven. I pray that you can continue to choose joy even when you don’t feel happy or carefree. I pray that Yahweh, whom adores you without measure will reveal His love for you to you constantly. I speak truth over you. You are not alone. You are not forsaken. You are not without hope. People of Eswatini, whom I have grown to love so incrementally deep within my soul, our God wants to call you His very own children. I pray that you hear His voice and follow. I pray that I will see your faces in Heaven one day.
I don’t have long left here and I know that this goodbye will be painful. You’ve become my family. My brothers and sisters in Christ and in love. I came to bless you and love you. Yet here I am, filled with gratuity towards you. Thank you for teaching me how to love people with abandonment. Thank you for showing me what it looks like to love without condition. Thank you for reminding me that Yahweh is glorified by every nation and tongue. Thank you for encouraging me through your faith in the Lord.
I will give thanks to Yahweh for the blessing I had to get to know you… What a blessing indeed.
