Tuesday, November 8, 2011

A Walk To Remember

The capital city of Mbabane is nestled in the hills of the Swaziland.  The small cinder block and mud-walled two-room houses dot the beautiful landscape.  The worn paths up and down the hills mark the shortest distance from home to jobs, to school, to the market, to the Care Points.  Some of people have jobs and most are without.  There are a few well-maintained dwellings, most are just enough. The task this day on our mission trip was to see their spaces.    



We took a walk in the community with our pockets laden with candy.  We saw were they slept, where they kept, and where they wept.  Most homes where very rustic with an outdoor shanty for toilets.  Some had a cement floor but most had a dirt surface inside.  Meals are made outside with an open campfire.  Nearby is stack of wood waiting to be used.  They do what they have to do to survive, to provide for their family.  In most homes, there are no modern conveniences.  


We rounded the corner of a small homestead to find it was laundry day.  An older lady was stooped over, wringing water out of some clothes into a shallow plastic basin.  The nearby clothes line drooped with clean wet clothes.  I stopped to say hello in SiSwati and I immediately marveled at the gorgeous view of the mountain standing sentinel.  It was a "wow" view that you had to just be there to appreciate.  It was a spectacular panorama yet only a glimpse of God's creative Hand.  



I expressed my admiration of the vista and told the woman how it reinforced my huge perspective of God.   She immediately told her testimony of how God had gotten her through the good times and the bad, the hard places, her weak faith times.  I asked about her family and she explained that her husband had abandoned her for another woman, which left her to raise three children alone.  I asked if her kids knew Jesus and she assured me they did.  


She continued to speak of God's faithfulness in her storm.  She shared it all confidently, so assuredly, so in-love-with her Savior.  In that mountain-top moment, I paused to absorb.  In our words, there was more worship given to God's gateway, words of praise that would match any pew-packed church on a Sunday morning.  The presence of God was evident.  And as our love for the One bridged our language barrier, tears flowed and hearts melted.  It was a moment of worship on a walk to remember.  I will never forget that feeling of His presence, the day I saw Him shine brightly through on laundry day.  


Has there been a time when you felt close to God in worship?
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