Walked over puddles and the cracked ground, through piles of coal, next to a good-smelling kitchen and some bad-smelling garbage bins, next to an industrial sized laundry room with it looked like one person manning it, down a hallway with peeling paint. Into the children’s ward. Rooms after room of children. Vomiting and diarrhea in one room. Burn victims in another. Broken bones in another. And there was another. And another.  And another.

12 beds in the room, only three of them with adequate space. Two benches. A few chairs, some with the bottoms coming out or the stuffing falling apart. Some of the beds were made. Some not. All occupied. Children with bandages. One had been burned with hot water. A two year-old burnt with fire awaiting skin grafts. Another little girl burnt with fire and awaiting skin grafts. The oldest child in there was 8. She had some injury on her feet.

They don’t have anything to play with. No coloring books. No TV. This active 8-year old girl with the amazing smile had nothing to do but lay there all day. Her mother was so exhausted she was stretched out on the wooded bench asleep.  She has another sick child at home.

A little boy. Lungelo. A tumor. Something living in him sucking his blood and they couldn’t remove the tumor when the operated. He has been in the hospital since November and is waiting to go to South Africa. His stomach, legs, and feet are so swollen. His arms, neck, and head are shriveled to nothing. He can’t sleep except for sitting up and even then only goes in and out. He is so hot all of the time, even when it is cold and raining. His mother constantly fans him with a bent laminated piece of paper. He is in pain. Lungelo is 5 years old.

Story after story. Some children crying. Others just look at you with sad eyes. But a few, a few smile at you in the midst of their pain. A few can still laugh.

And the mothers. The mothers. They sit there with their child.  The nurses do not take care of their children; they do.  At night, they sleep in the ward with the child on the floor on a piece of foam.  Maybe they have more children at home. Maybe some have to leave in the evenings to go home to take care of the family only to come back the next day. Exhausted. Watching their child suffering and being unable to do anything about it. Or maybe they have no one to come help them or to visit because the family stays so far away. Each life has a different story, each mother, each child. One is forever in my memory, the words echoing back to me. “Her father burned her.”

A little boy who loves to walk everywhere was there. He has some sort of bite or sting on his foot and can’t walk anywhere. He has been there since Friday. When I took him from the mother to give her a break, he was soaking wet. No diaper.

As bad as this sounds, going to the hospital gave me life. I have been struggling. Going to the hospital, though, I saw people I could help. With my broken Siswati and some of their broken English, we would talk. I could sit with them. Talk to their children. Provide a distraction. It is heartbreaking now and I cannot get it out of my head, but I could not wait to get back. All they need is time, for someone to care. They laughed at my Siswati and the way the children stared at me. They laughed. And that laughter was a beautiful sound. A light in the darkness. HOPE’S NAME IS JESUS.

10 blessings and none of the complaints I have been voicing or wanting to voice. It never ceases that I think I’ve improved or don’t struggle in an area (“I don’t complain”) when oops- oh yes, Bethany, you do.

This may not seem like a trial to you, but we all have our own that we learn from, individualized training programs that God puts us through to strengthen us by showing us our weaknesses and where we need Him. For me, this is a huge one.

The sound of the rain has always been music to my ears, but right now I think I could scream. My muscles are all tense. I feel trapped.

BUT, as many negative feelings as the rain is causing and as much as the clean-up is dreaded whenever I awake, I’m looking forward to the good that is going to come out of the situation. Funny, every time a lesson is completed or a new one begun, I realize how much there is yet to learn. My time in Africa this season may be nearly finished, but I am not yet through learning.

Without those in the Mission of Mercy office there would be no letters going to the children.  There would be no gifts going to the children.  There would be no letters going from the children to the sponsors in the States.  Without Mission of Mercy, the children would go hungry.  We wouldn’t know where they were or if their home was okay.  I guess I never realized before that someone knows who every one of the thousands of children is.  The Mission of Mercy staff in the office read each name.  They keep track of each child.  The staff at the CarePoints know each child.  They know where the child lives.  They know if the child has food.  They know if the child is living with adults or with other children.

My friend and  “mother in Africa” whom I live with has been having some trouble raising her support to stay out here next year.  I didn’t sympathize with her as much as I should have.  Being in the States, we tend to think of missionaries as seeing the children all the time and living a dream life of just getting to spend all day being Jesus to people.  She regrets that she doesn’t get to see children more.  She does get to the CarePoint she is responsible for overseeing, but the majority of her time is spent behind a desk.  Sorting through children.  Talking on the phone to facilitators and CarePoint staff.  Directing the work of the Mission of Mercy office in Swaziland is not a piece of cake.  Without this lady, Mission of Mercy would be struggling.  She is important.  Her desk job enables children to eat.  Her desk job enables thousands of children to feel loved of their sponsor.  Her desk job enables teams to come out and see the children they sponsor.  Her desk job enables children to live.

 My hat goes off to the missionaries with desk jobs.

When I first listen to people talk of these new feeding sites, having never seen them or heard of them before, tears came to my eyes.  I felt that I wanted to go.  I was yearning for a place I had never seen.  I had tears of compassion in my eyes at the tale of the sufferings of those living there, and compassion is not a naturally strong part of me.  I know that the Lord laid a burden on my heart at that time.  Now, 11 months later, the desire to get out there has been fulfilled.

Because of their newness and locations, these locations did not get to have Christmas celebrations this year.  So, we took them gift bags.  Each Mission of Mercy child received a gift bag with a toothbrush, toothpaste, a stock sweet (sucker), a candy cane with the story of the candy cane with it on a card, a bar of soap, a face cloth, and a toy- necklace and bracelet for the girls, marbles for the boys.  The children really need the toiletries and they are loving the toys.  For many of the children out east, this is the only toy they have ever had.  It is so exciting to get to be “Santa Claus” and bless a child.  It is so wonderful to get to be Jesus to them, to show them that Someone loves them, that they are special.

Internship is officially over!  While I am excited that for the moment I have no more dorm living or kitchen crew or study  nights, I am going to miss many aspects of the program I have been in for these past 10 months.  I have learned so much about myself and been stretched and grown.  As you can see from the photo, I haven’t grown so much in height, but I am excited to know that I have grown in my walk with the Lord and am only going to continue to do so.  There is no ending age for that.  : )

I am excited to be an official missionary now, though I will admit that I’m a little nervous.  This morning at my first staff meeting as a missionary and without my fellow ex-interns, I felt like a kid on her first day of school.  I know that now the responsibility is heavier.  I can no longer just glide by only doing what I am told.  I now have to think for myself.  Part of me wished I had remained forever young like Peter Pan.  6 would be a good age, I should think. 

So, now I am venturing into new territory.  The good news is that as long as I continue to follow the Lord, He will never leave me so I am taking this new journey just following in His footsteps.  I am looking forward to seeing what He does over the next two months.

Nkulunkulu Unatsi! (God is with us!)

 We have just finished Christmas Celebrations at the CarePoints!  We reached about 5,000 kids and though tiring, these were some amazing days.

 4 through 11 year olds had their own age groups.  They got to travel around to different stations after viewing a fun puppet show and drama about the birth of Christ.  At one station they got to eat and learn about how Jesus fed the 5,000.  At another station, there was a huge ball 8 foot in diameter and they learned about the resurrection of Christ.  At another, they got to cool down on a soapy water slide with a pool at the end, learning about the baptism of Christ.  Another station saw them fishing for stock sweets (suckers) as they had just learned about the calling of the disciples and being fishers of men.  Another station was a huge jumping castle and the children learned to remember the ascension of Christ as they were jumping up.  Two stations left!  One of them was dance where the children learned a dance to a popular Christmas song proclaiming the message of Christ.  Lastly, there was craft.  The children got to make their very own button to pin on their shirt.  It says, “God is with me,” and is a reminder they can take with them and will enjoy wearing. 

But, guess what!  After this amazing time, they still aren’t finished.  After we all gathered together again, huge birthday cakes we brought out and we all sang, “Happy birthday, Jesus.”  For some of these children, it was their first time to have cake.  I remember at one CarePoint, they were even eating the frosting off of the legs of the desk that had become our make-shift table. 

 And it wasn’t over yet.  Fireworks!  It was great to watch their reactions. At most CarePoints, the kids took off running and laughing at the sound of the noise.

 Upon leaving the CarePoint, each child was presented with a balloon, a face cloth, and a candy cane.  All in all, this day is one that the children will never forget.  And we pray that they remember not only the candy and the water and the fireworks, but that they remember the love they experienced, that they remember what they learned at each station- that God is with them, ALWAYS.

 At the same time all of this was going on, the youth (12-18 years) were having their own celebration nearby.  They also learned about God being with us and they got to play a version of the Amazing Race.  Great fun!  At the end of their celebration, in addition to a slice of birthday cake, each youth received their very own Bible!  Another first for so many. 

I am so blessed to have been able to witness and participate in the Christmas celebrations this year.  It’s amazing to see so many children so excited to learn about God and to play and laugh.  For some, I know they have very little reason to laugh and I had such great fun interacting with them and teaching them, and just absorbing the laughter that they couldn’t help but let bubble forth. 

God is good.

In a separate writing, I would like to tell you about the picture above.  This moment is one I will never forget.  We were at one of the Eastern CarePoints for the Christmas celebration.  There was this young boy there.  He happens to be blind.  As such, he had not been able to participate in some of the other activities like the ball game his group had just come from.  Upon being asked if he wanted to go down the water slide, his answer was a very definite, “Yes.”  He was so trusting.  I held him by the hand and ran next time him telling him “Gijima” (run), and he did.  I can still see his smile and hear the sound of his laughter.  Even as I told him to sit and pushed him into the pool at the end.  All of the stress, all of the heat, all of the tiredness and sore muscles, all of it was worth it just to be a part of his life for those brief minutes we had him.  All of it is worth it so many times over for each of those smiling faces.  Hundreds and thousands of kids.  All worth it.  

GLA is situated with mountains surrounding it in the near distance on two sides. My windows face one such side. Tonight, no matter where I look, I can see no light. This is not because the fog is so thick (which sometimes happens), but it’s because there simply is no light. The power is out. The stars are barely visible because it’s been rainy and the clouds are thick overhead. In the distance there is still lightning, lighting up the mountain edges and glimmering on the lake. Tonight, I can’t see fence surrounding the campus and I can’t see litter and I can’t see the small homesteads. There is only the faint outline of clouds and mountains and black stillness. And it’s beautiful.

Last night there was a terrible windstorm. The power went out. This morning, we awaken to find some houses completely out of power, some with working lights and no working outlets, some with working lights and working outlets, and all without water.

By 7:30 in the morning, a friend and I were walking down the dusty African road with a huge metal pot between us. (I’m talking like a 10lb pot. Pretty sure it’s more.) After filling it half way we had to walk back. I wasn’t sure my shoulder was going to last.

After breakfast, another trip with the pot and a trip with a 20 liter bucket on my head to manually flush the toilets.

After lunch, another trip with the bucket.

Before supper, a trip with another 20 L container (buddy system where they have one handle and I have the other) and a 5 L bottle in the other hand. This water was to bath in and supply the house with water and flushing.

After supper, another trip with the bucket.

Today was also a CarePoint day. CarePoint days mean I get dirty- normally exceptionally so. Today was no different. So, of course I had to get clean. This entailed me taking the container I was my clothes in with about 4 inches of water in it, soaping up and trying to get all the soap off with a wash cloth and a slight amount of clean water. I now understand why they used to only wash their hair on Saturday nights and why it was always pinned up. Need I tell you I did not wash my hair tonight?

My attire is a little crazy as well. I won’t bother explaining it, let’s just say I don’t even come close to matching.

This morning Brandi left. It has been great to have her here. I also felt bad for her because she couldn’t even shower before spending nearly a day in the airport and then 18 hours on a plane.

So, the day has been adventurous. We are hoping for water tomorrow. I rarely appreciate the plumbing until I don’t have any. Therefore, I am thankful for the temporary loss.

“You are black now,” they say. I say, “When I can no longer keep count of the buckets I’ve carried on my head, then I will be Swazi.” They say, “You are good wife material, Bethany. You need to marry a Zimbabwean.” I laugh and say, “No, thank you.”

What a day!

This phrase- the modern, revised devil in the details one- has been going through my mind for about two weeks now. A few weeks ago I had a meeting with the director of Children’s Cup Swaziland. He told me, “God is in the details.” He told me to look for God everywhere because everywhere in everything, God has intricately woven it together.

Because I was struggling with some things at the time, it has really stayed with me, even over the course of two weeks.

What follows is just another example of Him being in the details, even for me to have this conversation, remember it, and be prepared to see Him in the details today.

This morning, without really expecting to hear Him or even caring to for that matter (yes, I have days where I just want to call it quits) I asked God what He needed of me this week. I wasn’t listening, but I heard. The answer: “whole-hearted obedience.” Since I wasn’t even expecting an answer, I was just like, “Well, I don’t know where that came from but it probably wasn’t God.” Wrong. Remember, ‘Le bon Dieu est dous le detail’.

A little later, we were given a new memory verse. This year, all of the memory verses have tags to help us categorize them. Today’s, “Obedience is Proof.” Finished with that? Nope.

At lunch, I pulled out my lesson to look it over before going to the CarePoint this afternoon. The title of the lesson: Ignoring God is Always A Bad Idea.

I find it amazing that we should not have gotten our new memory verse today, but we did. I should have looked at the lesson before today, but I didn’t. It has all come together and been one of the lessons for today. Apparently, whether I was listening this morning or not, God was speaking.

What’s He saying to you?

All in all, it’s just been one of those days. Haha