God is Still Challenging Me

WARNING: I am writing the next two entrys at the end of a long day, so please excuse typos, or any embarrassing things I might have below.

How can a day be both wonderful and disheartening? Tuesday we visited HIV/AIDS clients in their homes. It was raining so many of the visits took place in the kitchens. A kitchen is a small short hut with a slow burning fire in the middle. We sat on Tonga stools, short pieces of carved wood, while the families sit on the dirt floors. The smoke burned my eyes, and in such a small place there was no getting away from it. The first client was a young man. He is in constant pain. His father is helping him, and his mother has not been “right” since her son was diagnosed with the virus. There are no counseling opportunities for families of AIDS patients.

The second home was an entire family. Both the husband and wife have tested positive, plus two of their children. This family is unique because the couple is still together, and the husband has been tested. Their prayer request is to live long enough to see their children be able to care for their basic needs. Do husband and wife share the fear that they will out live their children? Precious little Grace may not see many birthdays. The mother sat silent while the father did most of the talking. She did not make eye contact or engage with us. Most of the villages we visit do not have men present, but if they are, they do a lot of the talking. I asked the mother what she does when she feels sad. She said, “I never feel sad.” When the interpreter asked the question differently I was told that she refuses to be sad because this would take away from the joy of being able to accomplish small things.

The third home was a mother with an infant, both are positive. The mother has so little to eat that her breast milk has dried up. This 3 month baby is eating shema, the corn meal staple, when that is available. The mother prays for more food so the baby will not cry from hunger. Because the mother has an empty stomach she gets sick from the ARVs. These medications must be taken with good food, something in short supply everywhere we go.

In the fourth home I was the only team member who could enter the kitchen. It was the smallest, and it had a bed in it. The child was the client. Many of these children are being raised by elderly grandparents or aunts. This makes these elderly people, who no longer can work very vulnerable, which in turn, makes the child more vulnerable. Many will be married off at an early age, due to lack of resources to care for all the children. The prayer request in this home: That God would add days to the child’s life.

What do we do on these visits? We listen to their stories. We read them Bible passages, as 90% of Zambians do not own their own Bibles. We touch them as we pray for them, and as is the custom, we bring them a gift. The gift is mealy meal (the stuff for Shema), a bag of sugar, and a bottle of cooking oil. This means survival for two more weeks, perhaps three if they only eat once a day. The miracle of this gift is the receiver. They do not think in terms of how long they can feed their family with this gift. They will share what little they have with whoever around them has the need. They will not have full stomachs while their neighbors’ stomach is empty.

All this emotion in one day. I think I will spend the rest of my life putting all the images floating around in my head into categories God can use.