This morning has been amazing. We went to a hospital where probably a hundred or more women and their children sat it a room waiting for us. They sang for us, and then we shared. Jordan shared his testimony about hearing God, and then I preached a bit. I shared about Jesus and the woman at the well. Most of these women were probably HIV+ they told us. So I talked about this woman with a past she wasn't proud of, and Jesus who loved her anyway and offered her water of life. We encouraged the women, but they encouraged us too. When I was done preaching, one woman asked how it is that we had so many young men who were following Jesus. They wondered what we do to get such faithful young men. The contrast to their culture was huge. WE began sharing with each other about the role of men in culture. For the women there, their men - husbands, fathers, brothers - are drinking, living loosely, and failing their families. We tried to encourage them to pray for their men, and that we were praying for them, and that God wants to change Africa. It was amazing for me to hear their hearts, and how much they truly want husbands who will step up and lead. I was truly blessed by their hearts, and of course - their music! My spirit is renewed by their music. Afterwards, we gave all the children beanie babies and they were so happy. The moms were blessed too. Later, I was standing outside and a woman came up to our van talking to us. She was asking for prayer in Sutu and kept pointing to her stomach. There was obviously something wrong with it - a growth or something. Our leader "Tommy" asked her what was wrong and she lowered her skirt to reveal a massive growth - like a large potato. Kathy recognized it as a hernia. Tommy cringed and while it probably one of the grossest things I've seen - I only felt compassion. A couple of us laid hands on her and prayed for her to be healed. Right after that, another woman appeared with one small child by her side, and another in her arms. It was clear that he was blind. She asked us to pray for healing, and we did. The whole thing was such a holy experience. Her faith was such that she believed God could heal her son - and I prayed with a power that felt like he would. I pray that God will heal him. I climbed in the van, overwhelmed and drained - feeling incapable of doing anything on my own, but so sure that God was there and hearing our prayers.
After this, we drove to Bohlokong, and the Bombalela ("People who hold on to Jesus" - the name given to the YWAM building in the village). Our purpose there was to go throughout the village and pray for people. It was weird at first - many people looked at us strange, or didn't want prayer. (I should say, before we went walking around we prayed against the spiritual forces there as many people practice witchcraft.) We did meet some people and laid hands on them and prayed. One group of women asked us to pray as they prepared for a funeral - no doubt another victim of AIDS - one of the women's brothers. Many people asked for prayer for "sickness." For many there, it likely means HIV. One woman stood out to me - her eyes looked hollow, she looked like she was dying. By her side was a young girl - maybe 7 or 8 years old. Then we came across an older couple. We prayed for each of them and took their pictures so that we could remember to pray for them more. Emily and Pielo were their names.
After this, we drove to Bohlokong, and the Bombalela ("People who hold on to Jesus" - the name given to the YWAM building in the village). Our purpose there was to go throughout the village and pray for people. It was weird at first - many people looked at us strange, or didn't want prayer. (I should say, before we went walking around we prayed against the spiritual forces there as many people practice witchcraft.) We did meet some people and laid hands on them and prayed. One group of women asked us to pray as they prepared for a funeral - no doubt another victim of AIDS - one of the women's brothers. Many people asked for prayer for "sickness." For many there, it likely means HIV. One woman stood out to me - her eyes looked hollow, she looked like she was dying. By her side was a young girl - maybe 7 or 8 years old. Then we came across an older couple. We prayed for each of them and took their pictures so that we could remember to pray for them more. Emily and Pielo were their names.
Pielo was a beautiful old man, with a beautiful spirit. He prayed for us as well. He told us his name means "Perseverance." What a fitting name for a dear saint in such a hopeless place. A little later, we met another wonderful old man. He shared with us for probably 30 minutes. He was a farmer, even now. He didn't have any ID or any way to know or prove how old he is, so the government won't give him a pension. He was so blessed that we had come from America to pray for him. I'm pretty sure he knew the Lord. I asked him his name and it is "Christmas Mabuya." "Buya" means "come", so his name is basically Christmas is coming - or Christ is coming. I had tears in my eyes walking away from his shack. Here in the middle of Bohlokong - "A Place of Pain", and an area called "We are rejected" we encountered hope in two men - Perseverance and Christ is coming. I thank God for these encounters because it is so easy to feel utter hopelessness in this place. I am reminded that God has NOT rejected these people, He is already here, and there is HOPE! Jordan and Kevin and I later ran back to his home to bring him some beef jerky - which is similar to what he told us was his favorite food. Our YWAM friends were not happy about that because apparently it really isn't safe for white people to be here without a black person with us. They said we could have been jumped - or worse. It just never crossed our minds as we felt like God was with us and protecting us.
This afternoon we went to an orphanage. This was a very different kind of orphanage - 90% white Afrikaans kids. We shared some dramas and stories with them and then spent the next couple of hours playing and talking. We played rugby (hard to understand for me, but seems like it would be a great game). I spent most of my time talking to four kids in a group. The Afrikaans kids speak English very well. They were teenagers, a couple of them had been there for years, a couple others were new. Most of the kids there have been abused, or given up as babies, or they come from poor homes that can't afford to keep them. One boy said he was there because he was bad. I guess his mom couldn't handle him anymore. Anyway, we shared about our cultures - South Africa, and America. They were interested in race relations and even asked about homosexuality. They didn't understand it, and had never really seen it. Sometimes I forget how California can be so different from the rest of the world. Especially when two weeks ago I was in San Francisco during Pride week - complete with a million person parade. But they were pretty typical teenagers, interested in our boys, movies, stuff like that. But they have hurts I'm sure. Living in an orphanage with 145 kids can't be all roses.
This afternoon we went to an orphanage. This was a very different kind of orphanage - 90% white Afrikaans kids. We shared some dramas and stories with them and then spent the next couple of hours playing and talking. We played rugby (hard to understand for me, but seems like it would be a great game). I spent most of my time talking to four kids in a group. The Afrikaans kids speak English very well. They were teenagers, a couple of them had been there for years, a couple others were new. Most of the kids there have been abused, or given up as babies, or they come from poor homes that can't afford to keep them. One boy said he was there because he was bad. I guess his mom couldn't handle him anymore. Anyway, we shared about our cultures - South Africa, and America. They were interested in race relations and even asked about homosexuality. They didn't understand it, and had never really seen it. Sometimes I forget how California can be so different from the rest of the world. Especially when two weeks ago I was in San Francisco during Pride week - complete with a million person parade. But they were pretty typical teenagers, interested in our boys, movies, stuff like that. But they have hurts I'm sure. Living in an orphanage with 145 kids can't be all roses.
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