I know that it’s been a while since I have written, and I
apologize for that. I have no real excuse, other than the fact that writing is
not my favourite thing to do. And I just realized that I’m always apologizing
for not blogging…which I don’t think I should be doing. I don’t know. It’s too
late and there’s too much going on in my head for me to really think clearly.
Anyways, Saturday was a crazier day than expected. Early in
the morning, my phone decided that it did not want to live anymore. You can
roll your eyes at me, but I rely quite heavily on my phone. It is my main means
of communication, especially since I don’t have a landline. I also tend to
check e-mails on it, listen to music, and stay up to date with the world with
it. I know, I know, I’m too reliant on my phone. I’m realizing that more and
more this week as I go without it.
On Saturday morning, though, I was supposed to be helping
with a holiday club in the park. Holiday club is simply the South African
version of VBS, except this one wasn't quite as organized and it took place in
a park. After a bit, I managed to get an e-mail a friend of mine who messaged
the man who was supposed to be picking me up to find out what time he was
arriving. Once there, it was slightly chaotic. There were about 40-50 kids
total, including a dozen kids who were under the age of 4, and some were still
not quite potty trained (as I found out when holding one in my lap). The kids
were of all ages, backgrounds, and races. The boys basically played soccer for
most of the day, when they weren't having a simply Bible story. The girls
required a little more to make them happy… somehow I ended up being in charge
of helping them make beaded necklaces – something that is not exactly my
gifting, but we all learned together.
While we were making necklaces, two little girls who are
sisters latched onto me. One is 4 and her older sister is 5. The younger one
was telling me quietly how her father beat her. My heart started breaking. In a
society like South Africa, what do you do when you hear that? You can’t really
do anything. Anyways, she kept going on about how she didn't like the dark, and
how she scared easily. And all I could do was hug this tiny little girl and
pray for her. Later I found out that her father had actually shot himself in
front of her and her sister two years ago, and her mother is not exactly a model
of an upstanding citizen. These little girls are basically on their own and
traumatized. I just feel so helpless. There is a Christian lady who lives in a
flat near to them that keeps an eye on them, but she can only do so much.
I am starting to think the worst feeling in the world is
knowing that someone is hurting and being unable to do anything for that
person. And it is a situation that I find myself in more and more. It can be
physical hurt like hunger, but it seems to be emotional hurt more and more. I
hear stories that break my heart, and it seems like I can do nothing except
pray for the person.
And then there is the spiritual pain and bondage I see every
day as well. The women trapped behind their veils, the fear of the evil eye, the
endless rituals of bowing and not eating during this month. I know that JESUS
CHRIST is greater than any other power, but sometimes it just seems so
oppressive and hopeless. I know that I have been called to make a difference in
this area, but how? How, when everywhere I look, there is another lady who does
not know Jesus, and is so fearful of stepping out into the hope and light He
offers? How, when the Christian ladies I talk to think that it is wonderful
that I have been called to do this, but think that they could never talk to one
of their neighbours like that?
Saturday afternoon, after holiday club, Dave and I went out
to a friend’s to try and fix my phone. After looking at it, he sent us to another
of his friends to see if he could do anything with it. Long story short, we
were invited to their house that evening in the hopes that he could fix it
before I left for Cape Town the next morning. We gave them a lift to their home
and stopped at the Bangladeshi market on the way. Dave and A* stayed back while
S* and I headed into the actual market. We must have looked a sight…S* is a
fully veiled lady, whereas I was in my jeans and hoodie (just for the record, I
don’t normally dress like that when doing ministry, but I hadn't really planned
on going on, plus I didn't have time to change after holiday club), but she
didn't seem to have a problem with it. She was happily introducing me to all of
her friends, all of whom are Indian. I think I was the only white person in the
market!
As we were talking, I discovered that she used to be a
Christian and converted about five years ago. Once again, my heart broke and I
was (and still am) so confused. How? How could someone give up the joy and
freedom of Christianity for the oppression and slavery of a religion that has
no hope or assurance? Why? I don’t understand. Perhaps she was never a true
believer to begin with, but I still don’t understand why she would willingly
choose to follow a religion that basically requires her to be lonely as she
hides from the world.
I am hoping to meet with her again when I return from Cape
Town. Perhaps she can clarify why she has chosen the path that she is on. And
perhaps I can help show her the hope and light of Jesus, so that she can break
free of the spiritual bondage she is in.
