Tonight.

Tonight is the last night in Haniville. Tonight is the last night at Walk In The Light. Tonight is the night that I had to say goodbye to all of my friends from the last two months. Tonight I will go to sleep, dreaming that I will see my friends again tomorrow. Instead I will be getting on a plane at 7:30AM.


Somehow, despite this sadness of saying goodbye, I know that I will see them again. There have been so many memories made here and I know that I will return to this place. My heart has become fused with the hearts of my friends and family here, and I know that I will see them again. I hope and pray that God will allow me to return sooner rather than later but, regardless of when I do get to return, I know that it will be a wonderful and beautiful thing to see my friends again.

Last week I was in Lesotho, a beautiful country within the borders of South Africa. It was such a wonderful experience to return again to Lesotho, this time during winter. I went with Eli, another APU student, Doug, a professor of psychology from KZN in South Africa, and Dave and Tish, a couple that we met here. It was the most wonderful and unexpected experience. We never had a dull moment. We were always talking and enjoying each other’s company. I have never felt so alive. I loved being able to discuss psychology and have others understand and be able to converse with me. I interpreted everyone’s personality types according to the book that I got here. We talked about how psychology and Christianity intermingle. We talked about creation and evolution. We talked about the Bible and we talked about world religions. We talked about politics. We talked about the American economy. We talked about cars. Oh… and we also hiked up Sani Pass. I guess that is the most important part. We were initially going to drive up the pass but it was snowed in at the top third. So we walked. We passed the first border and we walked. We kept walking, and kept walking, and kept walking. I stopped repeatedly. I drank water from the same waterfall that I had taken a drink from last time I came up Sani Pass. I drank the water of Africa, again.

We kept walking. I just about died from the elevation. When we got to the snow, I really thought I was going to die. But it was so beautiful. It was white and pure and clean and quiet. Everything was silent. Everything was quiet except for the sheep on the side of the snow-covered hill. I am in South Africa. Thank God. I am climbing up a pass in snow in the middle of America’s summer. Thank God. I am alive. Thank God. I am breathing. Thank God. All of these things that I frequently forget to thank God for kept coming to mind. I kept climbing and I kept thanking God. I got to the top and I thanked God profusely for that. We made it to the top. We went through the second border and went into the lodge which had no heat, initially, because the butane tanks had frozen in the snow. We got to eat dinner and we talked to a German man who had lived in Berlin when the wall fell. It was unbelievable hearing his stories. We all went to bed early and continued discussing psychology and how relationships work, especially those at APU. It was wonderful getting to talk with people who understood exactly what I was talking about. It was a wonderful night, warm inside the double sleeping bag. We woke up and hiked back. If I could, I would do it again in an instant. Maybe someday I will.

This last week has been quite a whirlwind. We built an entire playground in 5 days. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. The playground design was one that I had drawn up a month ago and I was worried that it would never happen. I got to spend the whole week working with Peter, one of the Godliest people I have ever known. He truly loves the Lord and loves people. He cares for people regardless of if they are black, white or colored, whether they are rich or poor, whether they are Christians, Zionists, Muslims or Hindus. He always has words of wisdom to share, besides the fact that he always knows how to encourage and lift up the spirits of those around him. He truly does spur others on towards love and good works, as Paul says we should do in Hebrews 10. I got to experience the funniest things with him as we tried to put the play structure together. The first day, we had to dig all the holes for the posts but it started raining. The next day, it kept raining so no work got done. Another day we went and bought the rest of the tools, and the 16mm drill bit broke. We had to buy another. After we bought another, it started raining. The next day we had to put the monkey bars together and bought a 30mm bit to drill holes for a 30mm wide pole. The drill bit was too small. We bought a 32mm drill bit. The drill bit was still too small but we made it work anyways. That day, I got food poisoning. The structure still got finished by the grace of God. The day after the structure was finished I went outside to say hello to the kids playing on the swings when Cepo, one of the little boys, ran down. He looked up at me and said thank you. He went to give me a hug and then gave me a kiss on the cheek; “I love the swings, thank you, thank you, thank you.” Even with all the bumps along the way, I know it was worth it.

There are about a billion funny stories that I could share right now. I am excited to go home but I also know that I will be missing everyone here too. I miss Sne and I miss Sihle. They were my two best friends here. I know that they are why I came. I know that I will see them again. As I walked them up the hill so they could cross the road into Haniville, we talked about life and how I would see them again soon. I convinced Sihle to “rhyme” for me and told him that he can’t forget me when he becomes famous. I told Sne that whenever I sing I will think of her and that she has been the biggest encouragement to me. She is my sister and she has been the greatest example to me of what it means to have faith and trust fully in God. She has seen so many things and yet she still loves God. As 1 Timothy 4:12 says, “Do not let anyone look down on you because you are young but set an example to the believers, in speech, in life, in love, in faith, and in purity.” She has been an example to me in all of these things. I will not forget my sister. I will not forget my friend. Though she is only 14, she has taught me more than anyone I have ever known. I will see her again. I will see Sihle again. I will come here again.


As they always say, “Once you have tasted the waters of Africa, you will always be thirsting for more.” I know that I will once again taste the waters of Africa. I will once again see my friends and family. I am at peace tonight because I will come back.

Tonight I am at peace. Tomorrow we go to Cape Town.

only 2 weeks left...??

I just realized a few days ago. I only have 2 weeks left here in Haniville before we leave for Cape Town, and then for the US. It blows my mind to think that time has passed so quickly. God has been involved every minute and my team and I are excited to see what God has to offer in the next few weeks here.

It has been a crazy month and a half, realizing who I thought I was and watching as a spectator as God has torn apart, put together, and rearranged all of the things that I thought I was. Oh the beauty of realizing that True Love was there all along, that the future is not something to be feared, and that God walks as a Shepherd before me through all things that I have faced, am facing, and ever will face in the future. Much less to say, that while I still am uncertain of the future, I am certain of one thing: I am not alone.

I cannot even believe how many pages that I have filled in my journals expressing the things that God has been doing here, the things He has been teaching me, the people He has been bringing into my life here. These relationships are so unlike the ones I made while I was here on study abroad. I live here at Walk In The Light. I am directly across the street from Haniville. Only the pouring rain that makes cascading notes on the metal roof keeps my team inside, and away from our new friends and family. The relationships here are so beautiful. I have never been so close to people whom I have only known for 2 months.

Pieter, one of the workers here at WITL, has been such an encouragement to our team. Through the time being here, he has mentored each of us in his own way. Today and yesterday he encouraged me by telling me that he loves seeing me work behind the scenes, noticing things that I didn't think other people noticed. It was so wonderful hearing how much God is going to do in my life, and how excited he is for my future. He said to not fear the future, because God does amazing things in the lives of those who are willing. I desire so strongly to be obedient to what God calls me to do, and it is so encouraging knowing that one of my brothers in Christ is being encouraged by my presence here. God, you are so good!!

Then there is my relationship with Sne, a girl whom I have gotten extremely close to. This time here would not be the same without her. I believe that God has brought me here specifically to be a light of His love to her. Her hope and faith is beyond my understanding. Everything seems to be going wrong around her, yet she seeks God. She hurts, and rightly so. Her heart breaks, and seeing it happen breaks mine. Things that happen here don't happen in America--things I am not used to seeing, things that I wish I could ignore but now realize that I can't. But these things keep happening and God's heart is breaking within my own chest. I can't look away, just as God doesn't look away.

I'm going with 2 girls on my team, Kris and Gabby, and with 3 girls from Jr Youth--Sne, Noluthando, and Thobeka--to the mall to get dinner tomorrow night. It will be so wonderful just to get them away for even 2 hours. I can't wait to get to just talk with them in a different context, where its safe to say things that might not be encouraged to talk about within the township. I just want to continue knowing her. Her story is painful but God will use it to bring beauty. She wants to act and sing. I told her that if she set her mind to it, she could. I want to see her go through school, graduate from matric, and reach her dreams. She has so much passion when she sings. Her passion rubs off on me in a way that I cannot explain. Her pain is real, yet she chooses hope and joy instead.

I guess the easiest way to end this would be to say that I am beyond excited to see what God does in these last 2 weeks here in Haniville. But to say that these are the last two weeks would be somewhat deceiving. While I will be returning to the US in 3 weeks from now, I know that God will bring me back here again. This is not my last time in South Africa, not my last time in Haniville, not my last time at Walk In The Light. I have been praying about this alot and, while I'm not sure when God will have me return, I know that I will return. I don't think I could live my life without seeing Sne again, without going on clinic runs, without hanging with Sihle and Tesh, without talking to Pieter or Phindile, without going to Zulu church, without saying "Sawubona" and having everyone respond with "Yebo," without picking sugar cane with the kids, without getting my hands dirty and doing it in the name of God. I can't live my life knowing that Haniville is here, that pain is here, that God is here. I can't live my life without this place, without these people. I know that I am leaving in 2 weeks but I know that God will bring me back here. Whether it is in 2 months, 2 years, or 20 years, I know that God has called me here. I will not deny that call, and I seek the time and opportunity when God finally tells me that it is time to return. What a beautiful reunion it will be, but in the next two weeks, I will live every day to its fullest, knowing that God has me here today for a reason.

hope and hurt.

What a crazy few weeks this has been. I’m sorry that I haven’t written for a few weeks. It’s about time that I update everyone on how things are going here. Due to it being winter here, it has been more and more difficult to connect with people in the community—people don’t come out here when it’s cold. I have had a wonderful opportunity to continue getting to know the girls from Jr Youth in the church choir. They are always around Walk In The Light because they have choir practice almost every day of the week. Last week I went and joined them where they were singing in the old well. They practice in an old well outside the church, such great acoustics. I learned a few new songs, one that was especially touching. It spoke of how people are hurting, are in jail, are sick, and when they reach to God they find comfort. Obviously its all in Zulu so it would be difficult to type it all out and have it make sense… but it is such a beautiful song full of pain and hope—the exact combination of what I have seen here.
For an update, I was really sick about 2 weeks ago, to the point that I didn’t eat for 4 days. It was a really frustrating and painful experience and I finally went late one night to the clinic downtown. I went with Tanya and Elisa from my team and we were the only white people there. People were shocked that we would come there for treatment rather than go to the hospital. This was the same clinic that we took Haniville residents to when we did our daily clinic runs. It was so strange being on the other side of the gate, inside, getting treatment myself.
This last week I had the opportunity to do clinic runs. We leave at 5:45AM, pick up Phindile—the woman in charge of community outreach—and drive up and down the streets picking up people. One day we took 8 people, and the next we took only 2. It is so painful to see each individual and know that many are going to get new ARV treatments/medications for HIV and others are going for TB, skin conditions, burns, and other such things. I met one girl who is in her last year of matric (senior year of high school). Her name is Pretty, and rightly so. She is hoping to be a teacher for primary school. I met her when going to pick up her father from the hospital. He had been denying HIV and TB treatment. It is hard to think that a girl just younger than me is almost losing her father. In talking to her more, I found out that she is one of 4 children. Her oldest sister already has passed away, her oldest brother moved to Pretoria and she hasn’t seen him for 4 years. Her other brother is living at home still, has dropped out of school, and as she put it is a “lost cause.” It breaks my heart to see how much has happened in her life, but it gives me hope that she is still pressing through. How would I react if I were in her shoes? Why does she have this life while I live in America and have all of my family still intact? How is this fair? How is this just?
The saddest of all was bringing a young boy to the ARV clinic. I asked him, “Ufunda ugrade ba?” which means what grade are you in? He replied that he is in 7th grade. He is the same age as my brother Hunter. When I went to clinic I had both Elisa and Tanya with me, but this boy woke up at 5am to go to clinic by himself. I don’t know if Hunter has ever gone to a doctor by himself. I can’t imagine this young boy, younger than my brother, struggling through HIV. And here he goes, alone, to clinic. My heart breaks because there is nothing I can do to make everything okay. I just wish that I could tell him that it would be okay. I can’t imagine how I would feel if my own brother were in the same situation. He is so young. So much life should be ahead of him. I can’t even imagine the possibility that this child will not reach the age of 25. The grips of death are so strong here. Yet there must be hope. There must be.
There have been a million wonderful things that have happened in the last few weeks too. I don’t want to only show the painful things that happen here. I just want others to see that there is pain here that shouldn’t be ignored, but there is also hope and that shouldn’t be ignored either.
In the last 2 weeks I have gone to two funerals and today, while driving through the city, we saw a man who had just been hit by one of the dangerous taxis. He was just lying there, face-down on the pavement. He didn’t move. I haven’t seen such raw death or pain anywhere in the United States.
As I said before, I don’t want to make any blog that I write to pose South Africa in a painful light, but it is obviously not only bucky rides and safaris in Africa. I want people to know that there is pain here, pain that should not be ignored. HIV is real. Death is real. HIV and death are so real that they are almost normal. I caught myself in this state without emotion. I should feel this.
For a little more positivity though, I have had a lot of opportunities to grow closer to people in both Jr and Sr youth and have really enjoyed just hanging out with people. Time goes by so slowly every day, and it is so good to enjoy a slower pace of life with people like Sne, Tesh, Noluthando, Sihle, Nomvelo, and my team. I can’t believe that I have been here an entire month already with only 5 more weeks until Cape Town. I also had a wonderful opportunity last week to hang out with one of my professors from the semester. A few of us who had class with him got to go with him to lunch at one of his friend’s houses. We ate tons of amazing food and just enjoyed talking. He was my psychology professor so I asked him how his research was going. He is completing his PhD right now. It was so encouraging to talk to him about what he is doing and about what I want to do. He reminded me of how important it is to make sure your priorities are in life. If school and work is important, let it be important. But it is hard to have relationships and do a PhD at the same time. It made me really think through so much of these plans that I have made up in my head about my future. For the first time in a long time, I have gotten to the point that I am truly trusting God with my future. I know that I will come back here again, but I don’t know when. I know that I want to go to graduate school, but I don’t know when. I want to get married and have a family, but I don’t know when. All I do know now, is that God knows. As one of my favorite authors, Shauna Niequist, puts it, I need to be writing my future in pencil so God can change, edit, and erase when He sees fit. My life isn’t about me anymore, is it? Why would I try to plan it as if it were? I can’t even fathom the rich and beautiful plans He has for me. Of great encouragement to me is this passage from Ephesians 2:8-10, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
I pray that this gives you a small insight into where I am in processing life and everything within it. God has been so good; meeting me in my brokenness and desperate need for Him. How good it is to know that while I am weak, His strength is made full and, while I don’t know what to do, He has already prepared everything in advance. Ah, the feeling of peace.

tears. and plastic bottles.

We got into the truck and drove around town for two hours. We ended up in a dry grass field. There were plastic bottles and mounds of dirt all around. We were in a graveyard, for a funeral of a man whom we had never met. I could not keep tears in as I watched an auntie lose two sons--one who had been killed, and the other who had been put in jail. No family should have to lose two sons in one day. The wife of the man being buried lost her husband. All that she said was that her heart aches. Over and over, "my heart won't stop aching for him." Her belly bore the man's unborn child. No woman should lose her husband. No child should lose his father before even meeting him.

As the cold, lifeless tractor came to life and filled the ground with dirt, Pastor Shipo began to preach of how God was taking back His child. A man of only 25 lay in the ground as his friends and loved ones and family watched. There were few tears. This death is not new for this family. This is such a cold reality.

In this moment, my tears were more than those of the man's auntie or wife. Their hearts were broken but their faces did not show it. As his body and his earthly possessions lay within the earth, we stand above and eave this place with only half a glimpse of what death looks like. There is singing for him and soon he will be singing with Christ. But for now, all that remains are the tears and plastic bottles in the tall dry grass.

Hungry.

Earlier this week I had the opportunity to drop off food packs and clothing packs with my team... I was immediately reminded of the weakness and frailty of humanity. We dropped off food to a man who lived in Paquis, a township next to Haniville that has no electricity or running water. Those who are sick require others to bring them food and carry water up the hill. It brought tears to my eyes. Seeing the man's frail body laying there gave me a new appreciation for the body I have. Later that day, we also picked up an older couple from the hospital. The man, who was 70 years old, has HIV/AIDS, TB and kidney/liver problems. They had been there for almost 12 hours, waiting to be seen by the doctor. Just seeing them made me think again about the fragility of the human frame. Seeing her love for him and care for him, again brought tears to my eyes.

Even more than this, playing with the little boys of Haniville was unbearable. I played with Sphe, Cepo, Sianda, Ngo, Mbali and many other children. Most of the boys just wanted to ride on my back as I ran around... dancing circles and circles through and around the other boys playing soccer.

Of all the boys, one stood out to me. Ngo kept following me and smiled whenever I looked at him. He would ask to ride on my back and was almost falling asleep. He could be no more than 5 or 6 years old. Whenever I asked if he was tired (nyikatele), he said "no, I'm hungry." He told me that he was hungry 7 times. I couldn't help but keep my eyes from filling with tears yet again.

I can't even imagine what it would feel like to be a mother and have a child crying for food. My heart desired to feed him, even though I'm not allowed to. I know that he lives in Haniville--even the nicest house is in need. He was so sweet. He made me briefly feel how it would feel to be a mother. But as soon as he said to me that he was hungry, I began to feel this deep feeling of regret. Why am I given the opportunity to live in a place where we can eat constantly while this little one is hungry most nights when he falls asleep?

For the first time this trip, I cried deeply. I cried for this child. I cried for the sick grandparents. I cried for the hunger. I cried for those who didn't know Christ. And I cried for those who know Christ, yet still fell asleep with no food and the pains of hunger in their bellies.

Church. Called again to new life.

Church was this morning. The things that hit me this morning are beyond what I have felt for a long time, possibly since the first time being in South Africa.

This cannot be it. My life must be more than I have allowed it to be. Church was already a huge awakening. Even though the flame may be small now, it can and it must light the entire room. I need to live this more boldly, God how does that look?

It was good to be here for Church, just seeing the people that I had gotten to know and getting to worship with them again. The whole service was wonderful. We got in at 8:45 after practicing a song to sing in church. My team opted for me to lead Blessed is the Name of the Lord. When we went in, women were already worshiping; there were few but their heart was so strong. We finally began service and many more people poured in from all of Haniville.

There was so much time spent singing, then the Word was opened, then more song, and then dance. Then two women shared their testimonies of God’s power in their life. Then we sang more and then shared our own song. Of course the people were much quieter during our song but they still enjoyed it.

Then the FoxFires came up and performed many dances. They performed the Lifehouse—Everything skit and I can’t begin to say the emotions that welled up within me. My heart is always so encouraged by that skit; just being reminded of all the battles that Christ has fought for me and He has won them all!!!

A 24 year old woman from FoxFires shared her personal testimony and encouraged me beyond belief. She had been born into a married home but her parents divorced when she was 5. She lived with her mother until her dad got custody. Her father got remarried and everything changed. She was no longer getting the love from him that she needed and desired. She began seeking love from relationships with men and became very rebellious. Then she was raped. She moved in with her mother and sisters to get away from everything and began going to church with her mother. She accepted Christ but, when she moved back with her father, she lost the discipleship that she needed. She was raped again and decided that she needed to change her life. She moved back in with her mother so she could be nearer to church and soon after that, both her mother and sister got very sick. She had to take care of them but both eventually passed away on the same day. Yet somehow she is still praising God. While she has lost so much, she has God. In living a life where all has been taken and she still chose to praise God, how can this be?

How can there be so much faith to press on and endure even the most trying of circumstances? It is in this that I am reminded of the peace that He alone can give, the comfort that He alone can give, the joy. How can we continue to sing “Bless the Lord, oh my soul” when our hearts are weary? We cannot do it alone, He gives us the strength to stand and sing, “bless the Lord, oh my soul.”

We are not alone; He is good, He is enough, we are not alone.

Off the plane and enjoying my second home...

I can't even begin to tell each and everyone of you how excited I am to be here right now. I am loving every single second of this experience.

In the moments before I got into Johannesburg airport, I was feeling such a crazy mix of emotions. I was about to get off in Johannesburg, get onto a domestic flight to Durban, then take the familiar African Enterprise bus to Haniville and Walk In The Light. All that I could think about was what God's plans are for our team, and what God's plans are for Haniville. I found myself in a state of desperation, a desperate need for an answer from God, a sense of peace. That peace is what I found as soon as I stepped off the plane.

As soon as I got off the plane, my immediate thought was that I get the opportunity to worship again soon. I would get to reexperience the joy and hope that I once saw displayed so vividly the first time I was here. I again was desiring to see Him move and reveal why I am here again. What is His purpose with bringing me back? I know that I was supposed to come back. And here I am. Ready.



One of the most exciting things was getting to walk through Haniville on the first day here. Just getting to see the girls that I had grown to love in Fall 2009, yet they had mysteriously grown up. Seeing how the girls had changed and how their families had shifted and swayed under and around them. One of the girls I had gotten so close to, Ayo, had lost her grandfather recently. She had already lost her parents many years ago to HIV/AIDS. Now that her grandfather has passed away from TB and AIDS, she is now left with her grandmother and older sister. It is so unbelievable to imagine the pain that so many people experience here on a daily basis. It hit me hard, I am back and things are still painfully the same.

I realize that I am already missing my church, the girls from camp and VBS, and all my friends and family at home. It is in this moment that I realize that I am supposed to be here. He has called me to carry my cross (Hebrews 12), and I hope that this is what He meant when He told me I was to be coming back. I am feeling a sense of peace in this obedience. I know that He desires me to be back and I can't wait to see what He will continue to do in the next few days. Perseverance, Faith, and Love... these are things that He calls me to--press through to the VERY END and live each moment with love, awaiting the next with faith. He knows what He is doing.

As Reg Codrington said when I got off the plane, "Welcome home." Yes, I am home. Fresh off the plane and home. I miss my other home, but indeed, I am home.