Small World

Well so far I’ve had ribs at a Western-themed restaurant (I’m talking American Indians and teepee décor – Pastor Thwala’s choice) and Mississippi Mud Pie served by a native African girl named after Dolly Parton.  You jump on a plane and 24 short hours later (okay, sometimes they seemed like very long hours) you are halfway around the world and even if they do drive on the wrong side of the road, you   discover that Disney might be right; it is a small world after all. 

This morning we worshipped the same uJesu at a Zulu Lutheran church and although the liturgy and hymns were in Zulu (Pastor did the sermon in Zulu and English), I knew when they were saying the Apostle’s Creed and the Lord’s Prayer.  And the singing!! No organ, no sound system, and yet the angels in heaven couldn’t possibly sound so beautiful.  I thought my heart my jump right out of my chest…Then the world started to get a little bigger, at least the distance between my little world and the majority world started to reveal itself as Pastor spoke to the congregation about the death of his infant daughter just 4 short days earlier.  She was full term, beautiful and by all appearances healthy but she would not survive.  I can’t help but wonder if she had been born in a world of privilege in my world would the outcome be different?

Then Pastor Thwala took us around Ntshongweni.  Judging by the 4x5 pictures I had seen, I thought Ntshongweni was a pretty small place but it spreads out far across the rolling hills of KwaZulu Natal.  He showed us three homes that we wouldn’t let our pets live in – yet there were many more homes just like these; homes that look like they would fall down in a 20 mph wind, or perhaps if you just leaned on the wall wrong.  And I knew that it agonized Pastor to narrow down the tour to just three homes, perhaps knowing that too much would paralyze us and harden our hearts. 

I met a young man who proudly showed us his study desk.  It was no bigger than an end table and had a light that no longer worked – perhaps because of the hole in the ceiling that allowed rain to fall on his desk but did nothing to dampen his hunger for learning.  The desk housed a few neatly stacked books, including a science book that appeared to be from the 1980’s and wouldn’t fetch 10 cents at the Goodwill store.  But he loves math and science – even physics!  Got to love that kid.

And the orphans, hundreds of them everywhere…while I pulled my fleece jacket around me to block the chill of a breezy, overcast winter day; they ran and played in nothing more than threadbare shorts and bare feet.  Yet still, as they laughed and played and found such great joy in a tennis ball and a stick sweet (lollipop), they seemed unaware of their poverty --and I was never more aware of my own.    

I had thought about coming here for some time, but it was never right.  This year God told me it was time.  And although the devil tried to talk me out of it – even throwing some pretty low blows as the time for our trip neared, I am here.  I don’t know why I am here, but I know it is right.  Perhaps the reason will become abundantly clear as the days unfold or maybe my heart just needs to break more and more for the things that break His…we shall see.  Valerie....