Life in Swaziland is taking on a routine. In the mornings we go to Care Points, where Swazi children come and women in the community (“go-gos”) cook for them- often their only meal for the day. We tell a Bible story with the Ministry Partners (Swazis who work full time at the base here in Nsoko) and then hug and kiss and cuddle with the preschool aged children who run at us full force, covered in dirt (and worse), noses running and giant smiles when we pick them up and throw them around in the air.
This morning had a bit of a shaky start. Last night I deleted all my old music to make way for new things I’ve been picking up along the way (big shout outs to everyone who has sent me stuff). Since my iPod was synced to my computer at home, this was a bit of a dramatic deal, because now I have all new music and none of my familiar favorites. In addition to that, there isn’t enough room for all of the new songs, so this morning I went through and began deleting pictures. It turns out that the vast majority of them were of three of my favorite girls in the whole world: Audrey, Molly and Emma Husted.
As I went through these pictures, it was hard not to miss these adorable faces, to remember taking them out to the park or the creek, making cookies and tea, getting caught in the rain. I’m here in Swaziland with a new team, and as I go through these old pictures I’ve been listening to new music that reminds me of my old team. It’s funny how homesick you can feel for people that aren’t even from your real home.
With all of these thoughts swirling around in my mind, we got into a van and headed to our Care Point for the day. The first child we saw upon arrival was instantly dubbed Mini Vinny because he was wearing a grey sweatshirt, hood half on, just like ol’ Gramps. And then, halfway through the morning, a chubby- faced, bald baby girl toddled over to us and plopped calmly on the ground, chewing on sugar cane and looking for all the world like Emma.
Sitting in the dirt, covered in smelly Swazi children pushing and shoving for coveted lap space, watching this Swazi baby Emma, I was reminded of a conversation I’d had with the Lord during debrief. I was standing at the back of the squad and I distinctly heard Him say, “It’s time for you to love this squad the way a mother loves her children- wholly and unconditionally, and enough to let them go off into the world, to follow their own destiny even if that means they don’t come back.”
“No way, Lord. My heart isn’t big enough. It took me long enough to learn to love my old team, and now I’m heartbroken at the thought of them leaving.”
“Do you trust me, Natalie?”
“Yes…”
“My heart is big enough.”
On my own, I can’t love these adorable kids enough, because I know at the end of the month I have to leave, and saying goodbye- forever- to people you love is impossible. But I’m not called to love them with my heart- the Lord has put His heart within me to love them in a way that I could never do in my own.
Thanks for that reminder, baby Emma. I promise not to be so consumed with my own hurt that I can’t look outside myself to see the faces of children who just need a hug and a kiss and a pat on the back as we send them on their way, off into the destinies that God has called them to.
