Manzini Hospital

I remember the first time I arrived at the Manzini hospital.  It was the day after we had been in Swaziland, our first day of ministry.  Fear is probably the most accurate description of the emotion seizing my entire being at the time.  I had never done anything like this before, talking to and praying over complete strangers in a hospital.  I could not imagine that if I were deathly ill that I would like foreigners coming up to me to converse.   You see at this time, I was still plagued by my American mindset and what others thought of me.  How much the Lord has worked in me!

Today as I arrive at the Manzini hospital, which has now become a regular ministry point of ours, I am reminded of the first time I came to the hospital.   Initially, my focus had been in the children’s ward, because for me, this area was more in my comfort zone.  However, over time the Lord has pushed me into the women’s ward.  Today, instead of going straight to the children’s ward I go to the women’s ward.  I am anxious to see the spunky elderly woman, Elvina, Amanda and I have had the honor to visit.  She is suffering from meningitis.  When we walk up she grabs our hands and pulls us in for kisses.    I can’t express how gratifying and rewarding it is to have established relationships at the hospital and be greeted by familiar faces.  We sit with her for awhile and talk through our translator.  

After awhile of visiting with Elvina, I turn around, and I am greeted with another familiar face.  It is the face of a woman whom I had met a month ago.  Her 18 year old daughter, Precious, had been in the women’s ward, but they had been released a couple weeks ago when they thought she had healed.  Though I am excited to see her beautiful face again, one which radiates warmth and kindness, I am worried her daughter has been remitted.  On further scrutiny of this woman, I notice her normal radiance is tinged with a bit of sadness and worry.   I comment on how Precious looks noticeably thinner, and she responds that her daughter is not doing well.   Further, though Precious had always been shy she doesn’t even respond to any greetings from us.  As I take in this seemingly dire situation I am overcome with emotion.   Further, I think of the fact that this is a family who has so little money that Precious is unable to go to school (this is especially noticeable because she does not speak any English, though, the majority of all other Swazi teens do).  While we encounter drastic poverty daily, the poverty of this family nags at my soul because in all of my visits I have not been asked for money or material things.  Most Swazi’s do this when they see us as what they perceive to be rich Americans.  Rather, when Amanda and I asked if we could get anything for them, she modestly asked for oranges (which are the equivalent of about a nickel a piece).

For some reason, today’s visit has especially touched me.  For me, I had been having trouble keeping my eyes on ministry, and off of my plans for when I go home.  I don’t know yet where the Lord is calling me after the trip, and this is scary.   Also, in the middle of the trip, the honeymoon period of rural Swaziland and homestead living had abruptly ended.  When times have gotten hard, I had found comfort in thinking of the luxuries of home and my independence.  This weekend, the Lord had turned this thinking around.  He has shown me that I need to be seeking comfort in Him and in his good and awesome plans for me.

How does this tie into my hospital visit?  Well what I realized through this particular visit is the richness of our ministry.  I realized that what I was doing was in God’s will.  I realized that I absolutely loved pouring his Love onto these people.  He allowed me to realize that I was called to much more than to enjoy the comforts of home, wealth, and success– I was called to love.  I realized just how blessed and cherished I was that He has given me these intimate relationships with these women.   Most of all, other than a plethora of realizations, he has given me peace.  Today I may actually say that I have tasted the “first fruits of the spirit” (Romans 8:23), within me, and He has given me the insatiable hunger for more of Him.   I rest and find comfort knowing that because I desire more of Him, I will seek Him, and when I seek Him I will find Him.