We arrived, prepared, and started.
I am teaching a beautiful 24 year-old mother of two English, and had her gorgeous baby in my arms to begin with. God has been amazing in the last couple weeks, and has provided us some people that would like to pay for formula so Mnqobi (Spunky's youngest- 6 months) can eat. Spunky could not continue breastfeeding, so, God provided us these people to pay for the formula so her baby (did I mention he was gorgeous?) can eat.
Being the "mother of love" that I am (my name, Nothando, means this in Zambian) I could not resist sitting down and scooping up my other little baby, Eme, who was sitting contentedly among her many cousins and sister and brother in the growing Kidz Klub "audience", handing my little Mnqobi off to Jake, who is equally in love with him...
Eme crawled onto my lap and held on tight, grasping me as if I were her only hope. As we sang, she would not allow me to put her down and cried miserably if I did.
As we settled down onto the floor of the open-air platform we do Kidz Klub on to start the bible stories, she still would not let go. Sometimes, she would wander off to mom and hold onto her for awhile.
She has obviously not been well the past few weeks, (but then, who of these little kids does not have a seemingly constant cold?) and so I allowed her to lay in my lap and stroked her back.
Suddenly Eme grew restless, not knowing if she wanted to snuggle in Make's (mother- "mage") lap or mine. She kept up a steady whimper that grew louder and louder into a scream.
I thought maybe she wanted to be put down, but that was definitely not the case. She screamed louder. Finally I had to scoop her up and carry her away to the teamhouse porch so as not to disturb the remainder of Kidz Klub.
Still, she screamed, writhing in my lap, tears streaming down her face, obviously in much pain. I sang to her and continued to rub her back, which was bumping up and down from all of the writhing and screaming she was doing.
She slid off of my lap and lay in the dirt, screaming and rolling. I tried to pull her back up to me and hold her writhing body to my chest, but she would not even allow me to touch her, smacking my hand away even if I tried to rub her little head.
I pleaded with God to take her pain away, it broke my heart to see my little baby in so much pain. I commanded satan to depart from her and to stop hurting her so. But she continued to cry and scream in agony.
Spunky, whom I was writing about before, walked over that moment and told me, quite obviously: "She is not fine," and lifted her shaking body from the dirt.
She collapsed into her loving arms, the tears stopped, and the shaking ceased.
As I watched my beautiful English student walk away, tears jumped to my eyes. She was a mother, yes to her two own beautiful children, but also to many others. She bounced little Eme and "shh"ed her lovingly and her friend, Nozipo tied her on her back.
She was asleep. Away from the pain that had troubled her. These mamas had scooped her up, loved her, and allowed her the sleep that she so desperately needed.
I wanted to be able to give her that rest. But it wasn't my place to do it.
I was reminded, by this wonderful woman we know as Spunky, the beautiful face I see around the Center so often, of Father, of his loving arms, his welcoming embrace, the rest he gives when we are weary and need it so greatly.
These Swazi mamas gave my little Eme rest, rest that I could not give her. A white face was too much at the moment. And because her true mother is not willing to give her the love that she deserves, Spunky did.
So, you see, this blog has two points, but they are united in some way.
First, Father never lets go. He never does. We could be in great pain and need Him to hold onto us. We could have just made the worst mistake of our lives, and everyone else has turned away. In any circumstance, he will NOT let go.
Second, Father gives us rest, he relieves us from the pain, the sickness, whatever, that is troubling us. He scoops us up into His loving, warm embrace and rocks us gently to sleep. We can forget about the pain when we are in Father's arms.
No comments:
Post a Comment