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.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
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.
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.
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