Rhythms of Rest

The Sabbath, in Biblical times, was a major thing with a major offense if you didn’t majorly observe it. New Testament made a big deal about it too (remember the pharisees losing their miiiiiiinds when Jesus was healing and teaching? how could he…)

Exodus 20:8–11
“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your animals, nor any foreigner residing in your towns. For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy. 

 

God, the creator of all things, rested. And I, a creative, get pretty busy sometimes and forget to do this… after all, I have deadlines. But I won’t pretend to be better at this ‘creating’ thing than the One who did it all. So I must rest…
…to stay inspired.
…to recharge.
…to breathe.
…to draw closer to God.

I think God knew what He was doing in created us. I think He knew that we’d need it. And so, one of the things I think we should do is do things on the Lord’s day that refresh us for His service, intellectually, physically and spiritually. So if you sit at your desk all week, then experience the outdoors. And if you work on the farm, breaking your back all week (which is what they did in the Old Testament), then sit down and take a long nap.

Just take one day in seven and set it aside as the day when you are physically recharging.
He told us to rest, and He told us to make it holy.

What are the things that draw you closer to God?
What are the things that ignite the creativity in you?
Are there certain places? Certain people?

I am not a robot and I am DEFINITELY not God.
And so I must rest.
I am so desperately in need of these rhythms of rest because they help me be the kind of creative and caring person I long to (and He created me to) be.

This Little Light of Mine

I don’t really know what to say.

It’s not a story.

Not really even a moment.

It’s not a name, or a face… it’s a presence.

Then the Lord said to Moses, “Stretch out your hand toward the sky so that darkness will spread over Egypt – darkness that can be felt.” (Exodus 10:21)

I feel it.

The darkness.

The heaviness.

There is a real battle between light and dark going on and I feel it.

I felt it Sunday night when we went to go get Lifa from his dad’s house more than ever before.

I felt it at Mama Charity’s house when you could sense her fear of her abusive sister.

Or the deep sadness in her hungry children and not really knowing if the story you hear is the truth.

I felt it when we walked past the tavern to 20 yr old Neli’s property, where we’re building a proper home for her and her 4 younger siblings. All HIV+ with TB currently sleeping on a queen size bed in a rundown shack.

Darkness all around.

When God spoke, light broke into darkness and kicked this whole thing into motion.

And it didn’t stop there.

All throughout the Bible God speaks about the battle between light and dark.

He is our light and salvation. (Psalm 27:1)

He wraps himself in light as with a garment. (Psalm 104:2)

His word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path. (Psalm 119:105)

We are supposed to be the light of the world (Matthew 5:14) as Jesus was. (John 8:12)

This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. (1 John 1:5)

Light represents what is good, true and holy.

I live in the Bible Belt.

I hear about the light a lot.

We don’t speak of darkness.

But what good is light to a well lit area?

Light is only light because it cancels out the darkness.

This trip I’ve felt a lot of darkness.

I’ve seen a lot of shame.

Shame hides from the light.

This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what he has done has been done through God. (John 19:21)

I’ve experienced despair and hopelessness.

And it’s easy to get really mad about it.

I’m mad about the darkness.

I’m mad at the lifestyles and living situations of some of the people I see especially when it affects kids that I love.

I’m mad about a 4 yr old boy living in a place of total darkness, when a home of light is a possibility, only because he is without an ID.

I’m mad about a 9 yr old boy who assumes the responsibility as head of his household yet sucks his thumb.

I’m mad about a 10 yr old girl who runs away constantly because her prostitute mother comes home to beat her when she gets off “work.”

I’m mad about a 20 yr old girl who desperately wants to go back to school to get an education but can’t because her deadbeat mother left her to care for her 4 younger siblings.

I’m mad about disease and hopelessness.

I’m mad about poverty and hunger.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. (Ephesians 6:12)

I’m mad that we live in a dark world and I am only one light.

Jesus, I pray that all of the lights of the world would burn brighter today. More of You and less of the world. Amen.

Coming to the Rescue

In the tiny rundown community of Dwaleni, unattended children fill the red dirt yards in front of shacks made of plastic and tin. Dwaleni was never “my” community. Not like Mbonisweni was. Mbonisweni has my African church, African pastor, African family and so many kids with names that I know. Ten Thousand Homes has been involved with Mbon a little longer and we can easily see that they have much more hope than Dwaleni. The feeding at Dwaleni has about 300 kids who are dirtier and poorer and “play” by hitting each other. There are only a few kids from the feeding that I remember by name and one in particular has always stood out.

Nandi is a 10 yr-old little girl who acts like she’s about 16. Nobody knows much about her story but everyone seems to know of her. The first time I came to Africa, I heard bits and pieces of her story… how she is known to be a frequent runaway and sometimes sleeps in cemeteries or doorways of stranger’s houses. She would be gone for a couple weeks at a time sometimes. I heard stories of her mother (whom she lives with) who is a possible prostitute and the unbearable thoughts of what could be happening to Nandi at home race through my mind.

No wonder she runs.

Kacy has gotten to know Nandi’s family over the past few months. Nandi’s cousin, 2 yr-old Kevin first caught her eye, reminding her of a young Lifa. At two, Kevin and his twin Given wear 12-mo clothes. Accompanied by the home-based health care workers, she was able to go on a home visit to Kevin’s home, to find a tiny shack housing a Mama (22), Charity (4), Kevin (2), Given (2) and Karabo (6 mos). The shack is positioned on the same property of land as Nandi and her Mama’s house, which is a 2 room cinder block structure. Nandi’s younger brother Tommy (5) also lives there.

Kacy has invested into this family and sees that God has something very unique for their story of redemption. She has spoken truth and promises over little Kevin and has already begun to see the hope begin to rise up within him. One visit to Dwaleni recently, Nandi had run away yet again, but this time the family knew where she was. So Kacy and the entire family packed into a truck to go fetch Nandi to bring her back home. Nandi was allowed to spend the night at Kacy’s house after the rescue mission to let the dust settle a little bit and everyone seemed very relieved. Kacy became a foster parent that night. Beautiful and heart wrenching at the same time. She took her to school the following morning, and Nandi never made it home after.

Weeks of prayer for Nandi go by and I go to meet this miracle-waiting-to-happen family and am greeted by an ecstatic Mama Nandi who exclaims in broken English that they have Nandi!! Well, they know where she is. They said that she would “be home tomorrow” so of course we make plans to come back to shower her and the rest of the family with Christmas gifts I brought from the States.

When we arrived with a bucket and hot water to bathe the babies, and bags of clothes to dress them in after, and Nandi was… not there. The mamas started to head for the truck motioning for us to go on yet another rescue mission.

OK. We’re in. 

We drove with 10 people piled into a 5 person truck across town about 20 minutes to a small rundown community across the highway. I won’t go into how I had Given, probably the sickest baby I have ever seen in my entire life, passed out asleep on my lap. That’s another story of healing and redemption waiting to happen, but for now, this is Nandi’s story.

Driving through dirt roads and potholes we end up at a warehouse with about 20 kids running around outside and see Nandi coming out. Nandi gave everyone hugs and we went inside to check it out. Turns out this is a shelter for kids, or at least that’s what we make of it. This gray warehouse lined with bunkbeds and children and didn’t exactly remind us of the Hilton. The adult who was watching the children and spoke some English was probably no more than 23 herself. We learn that Nandi got dropped off by a couple white people and that she can come back whenever she wants. The passive tone in the “adult’s” voice was disturbing to me. Kacy and I became social workers in about 2.5 seconds and we asked if Nandi had opened up to them at all about what home life was like, and if it was safer for her to stay at the center for children, or to go back home with her mom. Same response: “She can go or she can stay. Whatever she wants.”

“Oh, ok.”

I didn’t feel like it was truly a dangerous place, but couldn’t figure out if it was a loving shelter for abandoned children, or a sex trafficking operation waiting to happen with the unattended children and multiple beds.

Nandi piled into the truck with us and we brought her back to Dwaleni to stay with her family. Kacy told her that she could come spend the night at her house again in a couple weeks if she didn’t run away before then and she seemed excited about that part. Her mama seemed thrilled to have her back after the month long rollercoaster of not knowing where her child is. We are seeing a change in her mom and in Kevin’s family as well. They are learning what it means to have hope and how to be a family.

Needless to say, I ask for your prayers. Pray for Nandi and that we won’t ever have to go on another rescue mission for the rest of our lives. Pray for safety in the home. If Mama Nandi is doing anything that is putting herself or any of the children in danger, pray for that to end, too.

This is Nandi’s story and this only scratches the surface. This family has a lot of blank canvas to paint the story of redemption all over. Today I find myself so grateful that God has a big and beautiful paintbrush and specializes in doing this very thing.