| Bittersweet doesn’t even begin to describe the return to my African home. Just as the car pulled up to our gate, the young widow of our watchman (who had been killed in the violence) and his old mother were walking by. I climbed out of the car and held the widow’s small, shaking body as she sobbed in my arms. Then I turned to his mother and held her hand as tears splashed onto the front of her dress. I spotted my neighbor and went to hug her, and she was bawling. “You have arrived in the midst of hardship!” she wailed. Our area chief had just died the day before.
Not exactly the welcome home I was expecting, but it is the reality of this place.
I arrived to find people in extreme hardship. They are getting worried because mango season is ending, but the corn hasn’t ripened yet. The bit of food that is in the market is so expensive, people can’t afford it. There will be a lot of hungry people by next month.
The refugee camp was different. Although people were traumatized from the war up north and suffering their own type of hardship, at least there was regular food distribution (however small) and very good medical care in the refugee camp. Here there is nothing of the sort.
However, in the midst of all this hunger, death and despair, people still are worshiping God. On Sunday I went to church and was so encouraged to witness people jubilantly lifting their voices to Heaven. They know where their help comes from!
Adding to the excitement was the announcement that the long-awaited songbooks in their mother tongue had arrived from the printer. A choir member declared, “We are going to chase Satan away from this place with our singing!”
The sermon was riveting. The pastor referenced John 6:60-69, where most of Jesus’ disciples left him when the going got tough. Jesus asked the remaining twelve if they, too, were planning on leaving Him, and Simon Peter’s answer were the words that brought hope to the worshippers on Sunday: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life….“
Jesus’ words of eternal life have sustaining power. (That’s why we’re here doing this difficult work!)
When fighting caused everyone to flee to the bush, my friend gave birth to her baby girl under a tree with only her friend to help with the birth. Nothing else was there to sustain her – only her faith and hope in eternal life.
When a local pastor remained behind after almost everyone had fled, he found an old woman alone at her home, and sat with her for some time to encourage her. Nothing else was there to sustain her – only her faith and hope in eternal life. (She entered heaven shortly thereafter from an asthma attack. No medicine was at the hospital to save her.)
When the army drove around town in their trucks, emptying out all the stores into their vehicles, literally nothing else was left to sustain people – only their faith and hope in eternal life.
These are just a few stories that I have heard in the week that I’ve been here. It’s as if people need somewhere to pour all their grief and despair, and I am that vessel. But that’s okay; it is the least I can do to share in their sufferings.
There are no quick, easy fixes for this situation. The only thing that people want is peace to come so they can stay home, plant food in their gardens, send their children to school, and enjoy a peaceful life. |
