This quote popped up in an essay by Andrew Peterson and it stuck. Telling stories does not come naturally to me but this is a story from our time in Swaziland that is worth telling. And I think there is some truth to love in it.
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| Suzanne, a joyful gogo, Derek, older brother, younger sister, Nhlanhla, and me. This trip was pretty neat. |
It's been quite some time since Julia and I returned from our all-too-brief trip to Swaziland in May. We saw faithful work by selfless people, we saw hopeful people enduring disheartening circumstances, and we saw great faith and hope in a great God.
One of the distinct joys most members look forward to is meeting their special friend that they have been supporting and writing to for many years. We got to meet Gugu and it was very special. Meeting her mother and boisterous aunts was also enjoyable. Julia found it was just as fun to watch these meet ups as it was to participate. During the trip Julia shared her thoughts in a post for the Capital Swazi blog.
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| Julia, Gugu (left), and another happy carepointer. |
Another highlight for many members of the trip are the homestead visits. A few folks from the team follow a carepoint "shepherd" to visit the home of children who regularly visit the carepoint and bring along a few bags of grains and a bucket of miscellaneous foods. The carepoints close for a holiday season for about a month. The criteria in Swaziland for being below the poverty line is if an individual has less than one meal a day. These families will likely have less than one meal a day when the carepoints are closed.
Here is a story of one of the home visits.
We set off walking with few armfuls of food and followed Nlhanlha (pronounced Shlah-shlah with a real throaty "sh" sound) and his little sister to their home. We were accompanied by M’pendulo, a young man who has become a “shepherd” of a nearby carepoint. We depended on M’pendulo and other shepherds as our guide and translator throughout the week, especially during the homestead visits.
When we arrived we found a small cinder block house, maybe 200-300 square feet. Outside there were chickens scratching the ground around a small, run-down, porous shack that they used as a kitchen. The homestead was quiet. The grandmother (gogo in Siswati) and oldest brother were away getting water from a nearby pump.
We were about to leave when we saw the oldest brother returning with a wheelbarrow full of plastic 5-gallon containers full of water. The containers were very old and many were leaking. I noticed at least one with markings indicating its original use was for some sort of chemical. The grandmother arrived shortly after and welcomed us by setting a mat on the dirt near the front of the house. Nlhanlha sat on the cinder block steps in front of the door.
We sat down and M’pendulo began to kindly explain who we were and why we were there. She opened the bucket of food we had brought and began going through the contents as chickens roamed around us, hopping over our legs to get from one side of the mat to the other. Her excitement grew with each discovery. I recall tea being bringing her joy to a point where she couldn't stay still. Eventually she stood up and danced in a circle. The gogo dancing made everyone laugh and smile. She thanked us for the gifts and pointed to Suzanne and Derek and thanked them for being a mother and father to her grandchildren through the carepoint.
After several minutes of enjoying the rejoicing, M’pendulo asked if they would like to pray and the grandmother quickly agreed. M’pendulo asked how we could pray for their family. Immediately she asked that we pray that the children would love God. That was it. There was no indication in her body language that suggested she had another prayer request. We asked if we could pray that God would keep them safe and healthy and provide food for them and she agreed. But it was clearly a secondary request.
As soon as it was stated in Saswati that we would be praying and we began to bow our heads, Nlhanlha jumped up from his seat on the steps and in a moment he was on his knees on the mat with his face to the ground. His posture was by no means coerced. There was no direction from his older brother or grandmother. It was simply the statement that we would be praying that put him in motion.
We began to pray Swazi style, all at once and all out loud. I didn’t close my eyes during the prayer. I wanted to take it all in. I hope I never forget the scene.
A cynic could say that he has been scared into praying that way by a harsh grandmother. But it certainly did not appear that he was motivated by fear nor did his grandmother appear gruff or domineering. Instead it appeared that Nlhanlha saw that we were praying and wanted to join us as he would whenever they prayed together.
Reflecting on these marvelous moments brings to mind two helpful distinctions from the book When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor...and Yourself. These two distinctions point towards a prayer for Swaziland and a prayer for Capital.
First, the book describes the difference between relief, rehabilitation, and development. The AIM leaders in Swaziland characterize their ministry as distinctly developmental in nature. Carepoint shepherds contribute far more to development at the carepoint than any short term trip ever could. Far more. They have no cross-cultural or language barriers to overcome.Their commitment to the communities surrounding the carepoint is astounding. Their time frame is on the scale of years rather than hours. They have given their lives to understanding how to best care for the kids who look up to them and how to best work with the families who entrust their children to them nearly every day. Their work and ministry deserves our highest respect and support. Please pray for the shepherds and their work in helping Mkhombokati move towards autonomy and flourishing.
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| Carepoint shepherds; Zama, Mbuso (the Mkhombokati shepherd), M'pendulo, and Delhi |
Another helpful distinction the authors make is related to the different types of poverty. Often the physical poverty is the easiest to observe and comes quickly to the forefront. Not having food and clothing is plain as day. This family was identified by the leaders at Mkhombokati as one that would not likely have enough food for one meal a day if the carepoint did not exist.
But spiritual poverty is much less obvious and far more dangerous. Our visit provided plenty of evidence that Nlhanlha’s family is not spiritually impoverished. On his knees with his face to the ground while praying to the God of the universe in front of relative strangers does not appear to be a silly idea to Nlhanlha. He and his family understand the degree to which they rely on God for what they would eat that day and rejoice in His provision. And the grandmother’s prayer request makes it plain that she understands that their need for food is inconsequential relative to their need for Christ.
Their spiritual richness stood in contrast to my spiritual poverty. How many times have I prayed through the Lord’s prayer without thinking twice about relying on God for the food I would eat that day? As one who has a month’s worth of food in the cupboards of my kitchen, it seems to me more appropriate and important to pause at the daily bread phrase and pray for spiritual food. God help me in my poverty today. My heart feels no inclination to love you and rely on you as I ought for food and clothing, much less, spiritual food and spiritual clothing.
This homestead we visited and the prayers we heard and saw prayed were extraordinary. I hope my home has the same welcoming feeling and sense of peace their small homestead had that evening. I hope that my family has the same understanding of our utter dependence on God for everything that Nlhanlha’s family demonstrated so vividly.
God provides us with everything regardless of whether or not we acknowledge him. Though I could not understand their words directly, As we watched, Nlhanlha and his family chose to acknowledge His greatness, to the praise of His glory.
I hope this story helps you love some good truth.
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| Plyometrics with Nlhanlha and Zwelandi(sp?) |
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| A bit of soccer in the rain |
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