In my Absence is His Presence

A few years ago, I wrote a poem as my mission prayer for Swazi:

Not my Love to Give

I have learned what it is to love deeply from the heart.

But I have learned that it is not my love to give; it’s Yours.

So, let me love so boldly, believe so fiercely,

fight so selflessly, hurt so deeply,

serve so humbly, surrender so wholly,

and forgive so endlessly that I completely disappear 

and ALL they see is you, Jesus.

May they not remember me, but remember Your love.

I didn't realize it then, but this prayer has transformed my life in Swazi, which is why it forever holds my heart. The most beautiful part of the miracle of Tenele's life is that it is not about me or what I did.  In fact, if it were about me and her renewed life depended on me, then she wouldn't be where she is today because I could never be enough or do enough.  That's all part of being human.  That's why Paul praises and celebrates weakness and struggle (2 Corinthians 12:8-10) because where our strength ends is where God's truly begins!  There is no better example of this than Tenele herself.  

It seems all of the best things happen while I'm gone, which on the one hand is a little disappointing not being there but on the other it's incredible because it proves God's strength through my weakness (absence).  That way no one can say, "That's all you, Kate! Good job!" with a pat on the back.  It's not me because I'm not there!  So, as painful as it is to be away, I know it's how God will be glorified.  If you've read my previous blogs, you'll notice the complete transformation of Tenele from when I left her in 2011 and when I returned this June 2012!  In my absence, God continued to pursue Tenele and Tenele came back to the Lord!  Now most recently in my absence, Tenele was placed HOME!  

The day after I returned home to the states, Christina Hostetter (our long term volunteer who has sacrificed a year of her life to serve in Swazi) drove Tenele to her home where she was reunited with her real mother.  In her blog post, Christina commented: 

"On Tuesday, I had the privilege to take her [Tenele] home! It was beautiful thing to see how happy and joyful she was to be home and to see her mother's face light up when she saw her and her granddaughter. It made my day!"

Knowing Tenele is safe at home is an incredible feeling; at the same time, I know how hard it is going to be for her to STAY at home.  My mission while I'm away is to pray, so the more who join me in this the better! Pray for her security at home and her protection from evil and temptation to return to the life of sin and destruction that she just left. 

                                        Tenele with her mother and sister at her homestead

Another incredible event that is currently happening in my absence is HOPE FOR LIFE!

Thanks to Christina and the MYC committee, plans for the girls home are set in action!  Litsemba Lemphilo, Hope for Life, will house a total of 16 abused and at-risk girls with a "respite" room for emergency placements.  With a little chunk of money thanks to donors from England, stage one of renovation on the home has commenced!  Woooo Hooooo!  Christina reports that the deadline for this is one month.  Once the renovations get in full swing, Hosea's Heart will continual fund/support the entire renovation process as well as raise funds to fill and run the home for an entire year.  The entire cost of renovations and running the home (which includes electricity, food, salary for the house mothers, school fees, etc.) is estimated at ONLY $30,000!  This is a financial goal I know we can reach in one year.  So please join us and donate to the necessity of resurrecting Hope for Life home.  

Visit: www.hoseasheart.org to donate online or for more information!

*To follow Christina and her adventures for this next year in Swazi, go to:http://christinahealingheart.blogspot.com/

Where is Home?

It's only been eight days since I've left Swazi, and it already feels like months!  It somehow gets harder and harder to leave each time I go.  For my fourth "transition" back to American culture, you'd think by now I'd be accustomed to the dramatic changes; however, there are some parts of culture that still disgust me, mostly because it's so easy for me to fall right back into it.  For example, the simple ideal in Swazi where people come first.  They are a very "hospitable" people, particularly to visitors; whereas here we are a VERY self-centered people.  Now, you may be thinking, "Oh, not me. I do value people!"  You may think you do...but do you truly value them over yourself?  More importantly...do you value them over your precious time?

I'm talking about showing up two hours late to something because you ran into an old friend who really needed to talk.  Or dropping your plans for an entire DAY to help someone in need.  Or putting away your Ipod so you can talk to the person next to you.  Or...
It's something as simple as needing a place to sleep for one night. I had called up some friends looking for a couch to crash on while passing through town. The initial responses actually aggravated me.  Excuse after excuse of being too busy or that it just "won't work out" really shocked me, and then I remembered I was back in America, where time and convenience are idols in our daily lives that we never take time to acknowledge.  Think about that...

In America TIME and CONVENIENCE are idols that supersede people.  

And after you're out of that attitude for awhile, you realize how repulsive those idols are.
It may seem trivial to some, but it's just one small example of something that happens daily that proves this self-centered attitude we as Americans are so ingrained that we hardly notice it...until you go to a country like Swaziland and realize that there are entire countries of people who not just say but live like people (NOT time nor convenience) are of importance.  That's why Swazi feels like home to every visitor who comes.  Because you are treated as such.  I'm not saying Swazi is perfect; you can clearly see the heartbreak of the country in my blogs, but it is definitely something that sets them apart.  And I'm not hatin' on "Amurrica" either; obviously, I love my country and thank the Lord I've been raised in a blessed country with so many perks.  I am saying that it is FRUSTRATING to come back to a culture like this, knowing that it's just a matter of time until I warp back into that same mindset that I hate.

Aside from the cultural differences and the obvious material world ridiculousness, the hardest part of being back home is that I don't feel "home."  And that's a terrible feeling to be around people who love and support me at home but I don't feel at home, though I wish more than anything that I would.  Sometimes I wish I could forget Swazi and pretend it's all just a dream like it sometimes feels, because it would be SO MUCH EASIER.  But when there's a 16 year old girl with an 8 month baby girl who are still holding pieces of my heart, that's not something I can just pretend doesn't exist; it's not something I can forget...ever.

It's hard to tell people about Swaziland because there's a lot of pain involved that not a single person can truly understand because there hasn't been a single person who has been consistently with me through it all. So, (I don't admit this proudly because it's not at all what I should do, but I'm just being honest) I avoid the topic.  When people ask about Swazi, I answer simply and quickly change the subject.  Most people don't even notice, which I guess proves why I don't talk about it much.  But I think the reason I avoid it is because I know they can't comfort me.  I get frustrated when people don't understand (even when they try) and it's not fair for me to be frustrated at them.  So I was feeling pretty depressed about being home until a conversation I had yesterday...

Prompted by the Spirit to swing by church just to pray quickly before I went to work in my classroom, I stopped by Newman thinking I'd be in and out.  Just as I knelt to pray, Fr. James, the new pastor, walked through the sanctuary.  Feeling like I should introduce myself, I greeted him and he invited me to chat.  My "quick" visit turned into an hour and half conversation that was the best comfort I've received!  After patiently and attentively listening to me spill my heart out about the Swazi mission and my children, he said,

"I can only imagine your pain right now.  This is not your home."  

I had only briefly mentioned my difficult time leaving Swazi and hadn't said a single word about not feeling at "home", but he could already sense there was something much deeper than what I was communicating.  It was the best thing to just HEAR someone understand me!  I didn't have to say anything else because he understood I'm in pain being away from the children who have my heart.  He understood I was trying to pretend I'm happy about being home, and he called me out on it.  "How can I help you through this?" he asked.  Even better, "What can we, as a parish, do to help with Hosea's Heart?"  What a blessing!  He felt the pain with me and wanted to do something about it.

 I just needed someone to notice my pain, let me grieve, understand that I'm going through a loss, and offer to help me through it.

In that moment, I found home.  

Our Plans are not His Plans (for a Reason)

From the beginning of this trip I've been trying to figure out plans for Tenele to move out of Mangwaneni.  She was the first to approach me and tell me she wanted to leave.  After my initial surprise, I began going through all the options I could think of as to where Tenele could stay.  I began feeling a little discouraged but during one of my quiet times, I felt the Lord calling me to action -- now or never.  So I went to work on contacting people and coming up with my own plans for where to place Tenele and how  to do so safely.  I also wanted to make sure Tenele really wanted to leave, because it is going to be a hard transition out of that Mangwaneni life for her.

After no luck finding other places for her to stay or people for her to stay with, my brilliant plan was this: when our team leaves, Christina could stay in the volunteer house and Tenele could come live with here there!  Titi even agreed to help out and live with the two of them.  It could be a temporary "girls home" as we wait for the renovation of the other girls home to begin.  It was all so brilliant in my head until I proposed the idea to MYC.  Winile listened patiently at my idea and gently told me it wouldn't work because, among other reasons, the house is strictly for volunteers.  But she also offered advice of getting the MYC social welfare office involved with Tenele and doing a home visit to find out more information about her background and see if there are any relatives in the area she could stay with. As we left that meeting, Christina nonchalantly commented, "Well, our plans are not always God's plans."  She could not be more correct!

Fortunately, I've been able to spend immense amounts of time with umtfwana wami this trip!  In fact, we've even had two sleepovers!  During all this time with Tenele it is so evident that her baby girl has had a huge impact on Tenele's change of heart.  She loves her so much and baby MK (Lucia) loves her, too.  With all this time together I've been able to experience a side of Tenele that I have been praying for for three years now!  It is clear that the last step of Tenele's life change is to get her out of her living situation, out of Mangwaneni.  Tenele told me about her real mother and that she wants to meet me.  So I arranged with Alban, the MYC social worker, to do a home visit with Tenele.  He eagerly jumped at the opportunity to help and even took me to Mangwaneni to find Cedric so we could talk to him about moving Tenele.  Alban was very clear that it is important we get Cedric's "permission" otherwise it could turn in to a messy situation if Cedric wants to go looking for Tenele and the baby later.  I was so blessed by Alban's eagerness to help when it wasn't even his job.  The meeting with Cedric was wonderful.  He was very shy in front of Alban, but he agreed it would be good for Tenele to leave Mangwaneni.  We also invited him to join us for the home visit, but he kindly declined with a "maybe."

After we arranged for a specific day for the home visit, Tenele said her mother wasn't at home so we had to wait another day.  When this happened one more time, I started thinking this whole home visit ordeal was not going to work.  God is so good!  He lavished me with surprises this trip, and the home visit was the best one by far!  Finally, on Wednesday of this past week, Christina and I took Tenele to her home in Malindza (with the gracious MYC driver Mateo).  Her home is in the middle of nowhere, but the land surrounding it was beautiful.  Her mother greeted us with joyful smiles, as she couldn't speak or understand any English.  Luckily, her step-father was there, so we were able to translate through him.

Christina and I had never done a "home visit" before so we didn't know how in the world to even begin, but we had some paperwork with us, so we just went with it.  The step father, Moses, filled out the paper work as we visited with them and we learned more about Tenele's life.  They said Tenele is the youngest of the family and they sent her to live with her "aunite" (which was really just a friend of the mother's) because of poverty in the house.  Moses told us how they had an "agreement" with the auntie to raise Tenele and take her to school.  Moses then said, "But she didn't hold up her end of the agreement.  Tenele didn't have a good life."  I was shocked that he acknowledged that to our faces.  Then he proceeded to say that they tried to call Tenele back home but she refused because she was already living with Cedric at this point.  So through both sides of the story, I was able to piece together a lot more of Tenele's life:
In 2008, (shortly after I first met Tenele), a friend told her that the "mother" she was staying with was not her real mother.  Not wanting to endure the abuse anymore, Tenele left to find her real mother.  When she found her, however, the stepfather (Moses) didn't want Tenele, so they sent her away.  That's when she went to teh streets and lived as a prostitute for almost three years before she starting living with Cedric.  By that time, the parents had figured out what had happened to Tenele and had called her back home, but Tenele was already hurt by them and too far into prostitution and the live she lived that going back home wasn't an option.

After learning all of this, I still didn't think Tenele living back at home was an option.  But when I asked Moses repeatedly if there were any other relatives or friends or people we could trust to help Tenele find a place to live, he finally said, "Well, she can live here."

"What?" I asked him to repeat what he said, not thinking those words were possible.
"Yah, she can stay here with us."
"Really?"  I was quite shocked by his assured declaration, so I asked him if he was sure.  He began explaining as long as Tenele WANTED to come home and was going to leave the life with Cedric behind, she is welcome to come home.
I called Tenele back into the room so she could hear this.  We talked about it together and arranged plans for Tenele to move home.  The joy in Tenele's face is absolutely priceless!  Moses gave us his cell phone number and we gave him ours and told him we'd (well, not me, but Christina) would be doing home visits to ensure Tenele's still there and treated well, etc.  I also arranged with them that when Christina takes Tenele to move back home, I'd bring some food, soap, candles, diapers, etc. so that they wouldn't be so burdened with taking care of two more lives right away.  Her mother was beaming with a smile from ear to ear.  Tenele said she really liked Moses and was excited to come home.  Her older sister Bongiwe was there, too, and told Tenele in English, "Make sure you don't lie" about coming home.  But they all looked so happy to be together, it was just so amazing!

When I left Tenele's home, I walked with her am in arm, beaming with joy and love together.  Then Tenele looked up at me with a big smile and said, "Mama, you go home on Monday, and I go home on Tuesday."

 It was the FIRST time Tenele has mentioned my leaving without her crying!  How incredible!  It will also soothe my own pain of leaving her, knowing that she as I am going home, so is she!

God's plans are truly not our own for a reason...because His are PERFECT, but He is Perfect.  He is our Jehovah-raah, the Shepherd, who not only provides and cares for us, but gives to us in abundance!  There is no greater love, no greater plan than His.  And there's no greater picture than a sheep and the shepherd to sum up God's pursuit of Tenele.  As a sheep, she strayed away, but the Lord stopped at nothing to call her back to him.  Now he is scooping her up in his arms, rejoicing in her, and holding her eternally in his truth.

Yes, Jehovah-raah, I will always follow you!

You Can't Leave Me

The other day when Tenele was over, she came into the kitchen with me as I prepared some pologny (a Swazi meat) sandwhiches for the kids.  Out of nowhere she blurts, "Mama, you can't leave."

We had briefly talked about how soon I am leaving, that I only have a little time left here.  I told her not to think about it, but she clearly couldn't get it out of her mind.  "I have to..." I said back to her.  But she shook her head.

"You can't leave," she said again, and when I shook my head yes she repeated, "No...no, no..."
I stopped slicing the meat and looked up at her; she held up baby MK over her face so I couldn't see her.  When I walked over to her, tears were streaming down her cheeks.  She fell into my hug and starting bawling.  She cried so hard, she was shaking.  Soon her tears became my own, and I wasn't sure what wet spots on my shirt were from her tears or mine.  We cried in an embrace together before I tried to console her.  But how can you console someone at a time like that?  She walked outside with her baby and Christina caught me in the hallway.  After asking if I was okay, I couldn't respond.  When she hugged me, I cried harded on Christina's shoulder.  She just let me cry for awhile before I cleared up enough to join Tenele outside.  We sat on the steps for a long time, and without any words we shared an incredible moment of being able to cry together.  I've cried FOR Tenele many, many times, but I have rarely been able to cry WITH Tenele.  Though it was painful, it was a blessing when she laid her head on my lap we cried and prayed together.

Eish. My time here is so short.  My departure will be the most painful one yet. But the best thing about tears is that God catches them because he loves and heals broken hearts. Jehovah-rapha, the God who Heals, is already working to mend the pain of being apart.  I tried to ensure that Tenele knows that even though I am physically leaving, the love I have for her never will because it belongs to the Lord--it comes from the Lord, the one who will NEVER leave her.  I can rest asured knowing my daughter is in the best of hands, which of course, are NOT my own.

Gomer's Girls

During our first meeting with Fr. Larry about the girls home (see a separate blog entry about details on the girls home), we explained Hosea's Heart and where the name came from.  He commented that we should name the house Gomer's House (after the woman named Gomer, whom the Lord had instructed the prophet Hosea to marry).  Though we already have a name for the home (Litsemba Lemphilo, which means Hope for Life), the name Gomer stuck with me, so that's what I entitled another part of our ministry here in Swaziland: Gomer's Girls, other prostitutes living in Mangwaneni like Tenele.

After visiting Tenele numerous times these past few weeks, I started noticing the stares from other women around her in the squatter camp.  At this point, they are familiar with me, can call me by name, and know that I am there to help Tenele.  A handful of her friends also asked for help for different things last year, but none of them has approached me this year.  I started noticing them a lot more this year.  Usually, I'm not very fond of looking around while I walk through Mangwaneni because you don't want to make eye contact with the wrong people, but I suddenly had this awareness of the other women around Tenele who ache for the same thing I am offering her: a chance for hope.  I waited until what I felt was the right timing (for safety reasons for my other teammates--it's very important that their faces are seen and they are introduced to a lot of people at the care point before they venture into the squatter camp with me; it's not what you know, but WHO you know) before we ministered to other women in the squatter camp.  These young women will not be seen at the carepoint; they are like Tenele and like Gomer in the fact that you must pursue them in order to help them.  They don't want to be seen, although they ache to be noticed. They don't want to be helped, although they starve for hope.  They don't want to leave their lifestyle, though they yearn for the chance to get out.  These are the Gomer's girls, and they are beautiful.

Last week I took my teammates to see Tenele with the goal of finding some more prostitutes to take out to lunch at KFC in town with us.  I spoke to Tenele for awhile before I proposed the idea.  She wasn't sure what to think at first, but then when I asked her who else we could help, her eyes lit up as she talked about her friend Nomsa. Tenele said Nomsa had just given birth to a baby boy recently but didn't know who the father was because she was a prostitute.  So we went on a search for one girl, and we ended up leaving the camp with six!

Interestingly enough, Christina and I had prayed that morning about God leading us to the right girls and I had verbalized to Christina how perfect it would be if we found six girls, because that would create great one on one conversations for each of my teammates.  God most definitely delighted in the prayer and in our obedience to his prompting in pursuing these girls.  Our time with Gomer's Girls was richly rewarded with conversation, laughter, KFC, and love.  One of the most surprising parts was that Tenele was not jealous at all that I was "sharing" the love, so to speak. In previous years, she was very jealous of to whom I gave my attention and love; however, this time she was relishing in the fact that her friends were also being loved on as well.

On the walk back home I was talking to Nomsa when a bus drove by with a SiSwati title on the side.  She read it outloud in English: "Heaven is my Home."  I took the opportunity to ask, "Nomsa, is heaven your home?"
   "Yes, Mahdi-Kate," she answered.  Buhle, the sixteen year old girl walking in front of us laughed heartily at Nomsa's remark.
   "Unemanga!" Buhle called Nomsa a liar.
   "No, really," Nomsa answered back.  "I'm going to heaven."
   Buhle laughed again at her friend as Nomsa claimed she had just gotten saved recently.
   "I'm serious, the pastor is coming this weekend," Nomsa told Buhle.
   I turned my conversation towards Buhle and said, "What about you, sisi?"
   Buhle just shook her head.  "Ei, ei... I don't know..." she said and refocused her attention in the direction ahead. Nomsa took the opportunity to laugh at Buhle and agreed that Buhle wasn't going to go to heaven.  I prodded Buhle further and asked if she believed in God.  She didn't quite know how to respond, so Nomsa explained, "She was a Christian when she was younger...but not anymore."

"Why is that?" I asked Buhle.  I'm not sure why I immediately asked what I did next, but it just slipped out: "Are you angry at God?"

The question struck something deep inside Buhle.  She slowly and immediately (almost without thinking) nodded her head that yes she is angry at God.  When I looked over at her, her eyes were moist with tears.

We took the girls out again later in the week, but Buhle wasn't there.  They came over to our house and we had some great dances, laughs, and talks.  We ended the evening with Nomsa's demand to pray.  It was amazing.  She also asked us to get them to come to church with us on Sunday.  Oh how beautiful!  Sandi, another eighteen year old with us, made a comment to Lindsay that she was going to get beat by her "boyfriend" when they walked back because she ate dinner with us and wasn't at "home" to cook for him.  Eish!  Though it's sad hearing about their stories, it was a blessing to be able to love on them and offer them hope, too. 

When Sunday rolled around, our team split up for church so that we could get to both churches, one in Timbutini and one in Moneni.  I went to Timbutini and the girls who went to Moneni got to experience a true miracle! You can read their blogs about it to hear firsthand, but I'll tell you why it's so incredible from my end.  Tenele knew I was going to be in Timbutini for church and I gave her the choice to join me or to stay with her friends and go to church in Moneni.  She told me she'd go with my teammates to Moneni; I couldn't be more thrilled because I want Tenele to go to church because she truly wants to, not just to impress me or to spend more time with me.  So it was sort of a test to see if she was serious about claiming that she "changed" her life.  So while I was at Timbutini, my teammates showed up to Tenele's only with the disappointment of Tenele refusing to come, which made the Gomer girls also refuse to come.  My teammates left Mangwaneni with frustrated, disappointed spirits as we had been looking forward to this all week.  They prayed the whole way (they rode a kombi) to church that the girls would somehow get to church anyway (this church is a four hour service by the way).

During the first hour of church, the girls saw Tenele coming up the hill!  And soon behind her appeared the Gomer girls!  They "randomly" decided to go to church even though the kombi and the group had already left, so they WALKED all the way to church (and it's a long walk)!  The pastor felt so moved by the spirit that he switched his entire sermon and focused it on prostitution (he didn't know these girls were coming, by the way, or that they were prostitutes!).  He called them out on living in a life of sin but also took a very tender side of the issue by siding with the women by shaming the men.  As the girls told me later about all that this pastor said, I couldn't help but swell with joy knowing that finally more males are taking a stand for their women and trying to help these young women out of this lifestyle.  At one point during the service, the pastor did an altar call for prayer, for leaving the temptations, for protection, etc. and Tenele was the first to rise, leading the Gomer girls as they followed her leadership up to the pastor for prayer!  What a miracle!  And praise the Lord I wasn't there, because I know Tenele is doing this for her and not for any other reason.

Praise the Lord and keep the Gomer girls in your prayers.