My Life as an African Gypsy

This post will sort of be like two separate posts, really close to three, so bear with me if you can. Sorry for the lack of smooth transitions! I feel like recently I have so much going on all the time it is hard to stay updated. =) I will start with the more logistical part, and then let you know a bit more of where my heart and emotions are after my recent experience. Okay? Okay.

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We have been having some car trouble. It's been a couple of weeks, but we wanted to hang on until we got to South Africa so that we could take it to a trusted mechanic. On our 7 hour drive yesterday we noticed some things, but kept truckin' along as we felt we must. We when had arrived in Pretoria just 5 km from the place we are staying we had to pull over, as the engine wouldn't idle without dying.

While this was not a good thing, I was praising the Lord we were so close! We were in Pretoria! I felt it was definitely the hand of the Lord that had gotten us that far, and that the car hadn't died much earlier in the trip.

Jon hopped out, got his handy repair manual that his brother Paul got him for Christmas, opened the hood and tinkered a bit. My initial reaction was not patience, though I tried to improve. (my Hot Tamales candies helped) After a bit, we felt like trying to get to the flat. We were fine. We even got to the grocery store last night and the Embassy this morning.









Now, our beloved Bison is at the mechanic. Looks like the carburetor and the air compressor are needing some help. We'll leave him until Friday when he'll hopefully be good as new, and ready for Angolan wilderness!

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As for me, I feel at peace with everything. I am so happy that Emilia is out of pain and finished with her suffering; she ran the race and has completed it. Hallelujah.

I no longer see her dead face every few hours. A friend of mine sent me some pictures of Emilia before she was sick, and I think they help me hold on to that face, not the one in so much agony.

The next day, going into the hospital was a bit of an experience. The smells. The empty bed. At first I felt nauseous. I had to intentionally "move on" for the moment. There were other women right then that I was there to minister to and love. I quickly asked the Lord for strength, and He gave it so generously.

I am sure I will still have my moments, but God is good and so very compassionate with me. I feel like now, through this suffering, that I love more. I love deeper. I know the Lord better. Why do people suffer? Maybe for these reasons. Maybe Emilia suffered for me. For this bigger picture. To teach me, so I can go on and be more like Jesus to others.

Sunday we went to say our 'Goodbyes'. I was able to talk with some of the women and nurses about what they had witnessed over the past two days between Emilia and me. I was able to give all the glory to God for the strength He alone provided. One nurse, who always seemed uncaring and detached, told the women I was speaking with that I had a lot of courage. I explained him it was only because of God.

My prayer is that those people, other people, will possibly love more now. Be brave and reach out. Not be afraid of intimacy. That they would be curious, and that they would turn to God... all because of Emilia's suffering.

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Sometimes people get this unrealistic idea about me, especially after a work of the Lord like the one with Emilia, so I will share with you some thoughts that are a bit embarrassing. Let's keep it real, yeah? I am just one ordinary girl, who has put herself in situations where God can show up. In moments like the one I will share, He keeps me humble.

Here it is:

The very next day after Emilia died, I squatted next to an albino woman to chat a bit and pray. Her skin was covered in small sores, flaking everywhere. Her bandages wrapped all up her legs. She had a huge protruding sore above her eye that was covered with some gauze where flies liked to land and crawl around, sometimes even making it inside. I am sure her sheets had been peed on several times. The smell of decay just lingered. Even her teeth looked as if they were rotting.

As she talked with me in fast Portuguese, my mind was elsewhere. I sat there looking at her, wondering if I could do the same thing for her that I did for Emilia. If I would be able to wrap my arms around her and press our faces close together. I really am not sure... I feel awful even saying it, but I don't know. Imagining it in my head, I felt grossed out.

I came to this conclusion, that the Holy Spirit would take over the same way He did with Emilia, and yes, He alone could equip me to do such things.

It was time to move on and I wanted to pray with her. This time I grabbed her hands, and we prayed. I had to prove to myself I was not afraid. I thanked the Lord right then and there that He was able to look down and see beauty, and then I prayed that He would help me see through His eyes.