I hate napping. It's one of my least favorite pastimes ever. It makes me feel lazy and unproductive. Plus, with all I need to get done right now, it makes me feel stressed that I won't get things done in time. Not to mention the fact that I only have two weeks left here and I should be spending every waking moment with the people here that I so dearly love. It's obvious. Right? And yet God, in His sense of humor and sovereignty of my true needs, has brought me to a point of sickliness over the past three and a half days that all I can do is simply rest.

                Curled up in bed yesterday, tired and achy, I deliriously tried to reconcile myself to the fact that all of my friends were just outside the door in the main room and I was inside, quasi-sleeping. One of my friends, Gcebile, was even leaving that day, and I...was sleeping?  What kind of a friend does that?! Besides, if I was going to be inside our room, I should be taking advantage of the alone time, since Katie and Lila were in town that day. First of all, I needed to write a blog to post today (I am currently writing this at the internet café, technically wasting my internet time). Then I needed to prepare material for both older and younger women's Bible studies. Also, I needed to get all of the letters finished that I'm writing to the girls here. I've already had to say goodbye to a couple of them leaving to stay in Manzini for the break from school. And most importantly, I just really needed to have some quality alone time with God, and what more perfect opportunity would ever come?

                "Rest."

                No, it wasn't actually audible, but it may as well have been, how firmly that word was impressed into my heart.

                "It's like I keep telling you. I just want to be with you. I just want you to be with Me. Just rest. Rest in My presence. Sleep in My arms."

                In that moment, I no longer needed to worry. I no longer needed to strive. I didn't even need to put my mind on over-drive to analyze exactly what God was wanting to teach me or trying to convert the alone time into an intense internal prayer opportunity. Sometimes "prayer" is in the silence. Humans even have communication without words. Who am I, with this finite human capacity, to think that God would be limited to communication via words? Of course, His language with us far transcends all that I know or have experienced.

                So, I lay with God in what my mom calls "companionable silence." We were still together, and this wasn't simply a figment of my imagination, attempting to justify or rationalize my time of resting. In His presence I experienced deep peace. And despite the fact that it may sound like I'm just over-spiritualizing this whole napping business, this restoration God gave me couldn't be explained as something physical.

                "Rest"...The absence of doing, and yet one of the hardest things for me to do.

                "Rest," He whispers tenderly over my heart. "Just be still, and know that I am God."

            Vusani and I have a revised vision for his dream.  I am re-posting a portion of my blog about Vusani, plus our new plan...if you haven't read this before and want the whole story, read the blog entitled "Vusani Comfort Sibandze."

"Please just pray for me." Flora's beautiful face looked up at me beseechingly. Had my lack of faith in instant healing caused me to forget even to pray?

                Her blatant faith renewed my own, and I lay on her lap and poured myself out in prayer for her. I knew that she had the faith to be healed, and because of that, I was able to have that same faith for her.

I've always had trouble believing that God would work an instant miraculous healing through my prayers. This is because the healing would be contingent upon His will, and I feel inept to discern who He would want to immediately heal and who He wouldn't. But through Flora, I experienced an invaluable truth...

                ...My friend Sanele had wanted me to meet his gran, Flora. She was joy and light as I spoke with her in fragmented siSwati, Sanele filling in where I lacked. It wasn't long before I discovered that she hadn't been able to walk for the past three years, which had made the normal "gogo" (grandmother) duties of gathering firewood and fetching water for cooking and bathing impossible. She had become fully dependent on her grandsons to take care of those tasks for her. Simply the exertion needed to cook was difficult for her.

                I didn't even know what could be wrong with Flora to disable her from something as basic as walking for three years. It seemed like she might want me to take her to the clinic, but I didn't have any money at the time, and I didn't want to assume that my teammates could afford it either. I explained this to Sanele, saying that I would let him know if we were able to bring her to the clinic later, and he translated what I was saying for his gran. I moved to leave, thinking that there was nothing else I could do for her.

                That was when Flora asked me to pray for her.

                I don't know if it was my still-wavering faith or the fact that my teammate Katie came to get me, but I didn't even find out if Flora could walk before saying goodbye and going back to the center. But the next day Sanele came to me, full of excitement, telling me that I needed to go and see his gran.

                Flora began shouting to me while I was still a ways off. She was walking! She was dancing! And as I ran toward her, she even managed to run a short distance to meet me. God had healed her and empowered her to walk that same night I had prayed for her.

                Lesson learned: In hindsight, I believe that Flora's healing had everything to do with her faith to be healed. My faith had been as shaky in praying for her as it had been in praying for others who weren't healed. And this isn't to take the view that if someone has the faith to be healed they always will be, because their healing still hinges on God's will.   But God taught me clearly that night to at least ask Him for their healing, because neither can I know that it's His will not to heal a person unless I ask. Yesterday I was reminded of this lesson when one of a make (Swazi mother) told me her stomach was hurting. She wasn't nauseous, so I opted against Pepto Bismal, but then I realized that I should simply pray for her stomach to get better. I asked God for His healing as simply as the situation merited, and when I came back outside minutes later, she told me her stomachache was gone.

                I want to clear up some potential misunderstanding. What I'm learning in this is simply to ask God for healing since I so often forget to. Although my faith is growing through watching God heal people, I don't consider this to be the reason for the healings. I believe that Swazis often exhibit that same faith we read about in healings Jesus cites as the reason for His healings. We often find Him saying, "Your faith has healed you." Somehow I had gotten this confused before and always thought that for God to heal people through me, I had to have enough faith. Now I'm beginning to see what a self-focused view of healing I had. Healing has little to do with me. All I have to do is ask. Healing has everything to do with God's power and the individual's faith to be healed. And wouldn't this be the case so that I can take no credit in my faith for their healings? I am merely a conduit of God's power to their faith.

Unfortunately this all requires money. All of us on the team are asking our sponsors, friends and families for a little bit more to be able to host this event. We need to raise about $500 (that's US dollars) to pull this off. The money will go to transporting the kids to and from the center, food, and other supplies. I know some of you told me that you didn't have money to give to me before I left but that if needs came up along the way to let you know...well I'm letting you know.

This leaves each me individually to raise about $100. Because this needs to happen fast (the event is less than a month away!) we are choosing not to fundraise through AIM and therefore nothing that you give will be tax deductible, sorry! If you want to help, please either give my parents money (at church or if you see them sometime) or mail a check (made out to either me or my parents) to my home address -

230 Antlers Trail  

Leander, TX 78641

Even $5 will help tremendously. If you are in Texas Wesley, contact Sarah Jenkins. She has agreed to collect money for me there and will then mail a check to my parents on April 23^rd.

Thank you all so much for all of your support!

Katie Graves

Lately all I can think about is how I can't wait to come back here and see all the people I love so dearly once again. Ironic when every other person is battling homesickness. For the past few weeks what I've been is really Nsoko-sick...already! This is a normal tendency of mine to miss a place and people before leaving, which is weird, but it's also so good because I tend to process through much of my grief of moving on even before leaving. But in the name of processing this grief, I've composed a list of all the things about Swazis and Swaziland that I know I will miss.

I will miss...

                Swazi children frequenting our home with the daylight...their irresistible giggles, unaffected personalities, and unrestrained love.

                Our "guys" who spend the night here regularly...my awesome handshake/hug and deep convos with Mapile, Majabane's refreshing honesty and incessant teasing, and seeing what a good daddy Bhekumusa is when he's taking care of his darling two-year-old son or when he's looking out for me.

                My Nombali...her quiet beauty, strength, and wisdom - she is no doubt a woman of noble character. Nobody would know she's only seventeen with how mature she is. Oh, how I'll miss talking with her on our random walks or just hanging out with her at her house.

                All my girls...some I'm closer to than others, but I will deeply miss hanging out with every single one of my girls when they get out of school. Who would have thought that my closest friend group would ever be comprised mostly of fifteen-year-olds?

                Waking up at 6:30 to make Bacca PB&J sandwiches before school for her breakfast/lunch...I will just miss Bacca altogether. I will miss hanging out with her on top of the container, filling up her jugs at the water pump, and snuggling on the mattresses out in the main room.

                My daughter/husband Fisiwe...this girl has stolen my heart. I think if I was a seventeen-year-old boy, I would have the biggest crush on her. I know it's a cliché, but this girl is as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside, and she could be America's Next Top Model. I can't tell you who, but there is one of my friends here is serious about wanting to marry her in a few years, and it delights me to guide him into the ways of chivalry and godliness (sorry for the redundancy. Chivalry is next to godliness...?)

                Fisiwe's little brother Sandile...I might actually have a crush on that eleven-year-old gentleman. You would, too, if you saw that precious boy being a big brother to all the little kids. Favorite memories with Sandile include him tagging along with me just because, having him and another of the boys holding either of my hands while we go, helping him learn English, having him help me learn siSwati, combing each other's hair with his four-toothed comb, guessing who's hiding behind my back when I know that it's him, attending a traditional wedding dance with him, and having him teach me the steps.

                Babe Oswald, Make Saullinah, Simanga, Phindile, Sanele, Ngosingiphile, Mdeni, tsotsi (gangster) Siswe, Koskhona, Majazi - the whole Mabuyakhulu family...they have made an indelible mark on my heart, and I will always consider them my family here in Swaziland. They have changed my life.

                The craziness and spunkiness of Gugu, Nomphilo, but especially Cebile...these girls have taught me to laugh at a whole new magnitude. And you should see these girls dance (I have video clips I can show you!) Their energy and zeal for life is completely contagious. I will really miss growing closer and closer to Cebile as she has grown more and more confident in English and has opened up to me more.

                Living at a community center: having my home as the hub of hanging out. With having friends spend the night almost every night comes waking up to people in my living room talking to me even while I'm still in "I have morning voice, but even if I didn't, I wouldn't want to talk to anyone" mode.

                Our dwindling collection of silverware, but most especially spoons. Though I hate it now, I know I will miss having to wash one of our three remaining spoons just to eat my cereal in the morning.

                A toilet only one thin door away from houseguests and my malfunctioning excretory system...I admittedly am silly enough to care about strategizing the timing of my toilet usage in that sound proof-less room. My first e-coli-filled week here forged an impenetrable bond between me and that toilet.

                Our one mirror that I know I take for granted and the broken door that separates it from the main room. One of my favorite memories with that mirror was when I was picking peeling skin out of my hair like a monkey and glanced up to find one of my friends, Oscar, watching for who know how long, fully entertained by my incoherent explanation of my prolonged mirror-staring.

                The wooden swings outside...indisputably the most life-giving place to be at the center. I could (and have!) pushed kids for hours on those swings. Eventually they tell me to swing with them and we have competitions for who can go the highest...pretty dangerous considering how close together these swings are positioned and how slanted they tend to swing. Sandile and I almost collided today at the peak of our competition - terrifying!

                Communicating without saying a word...I had no idea the extent to which this is possible. It's true what they say about facial expressions and vocal inflections conveying more than words ever could. This is especially true of Swazis...I guess this is why siSwati is such a simple language.

                DJ Call Me...Thanks to him, I've had incredibly unique experiences with the Swazis here, singing and dancing. "Marry Me" will be always ingrained into my memory...possibly because it's scarring, but nevertheless, etched into my mind forever! Just wait 'til you hear his stuff - you'll be changed, too! ; )

                I could go on to talk about the ways that I'll miss each of my friends here, plus all of the random things, but that would make an unbearably lengthy blog, so I'll cut it short here. All this to say, I love Swaziland, and even more, I love my Swazis! Their friendliness, laughter, and passion for living life have made a lasting impression on my heart. They are irresistibly lovable and utterly unforgettable!

                "My grandmother is dying."

                Phindile's words felt like a punch in my gut, taking my breath away as I tried to think of something to say...anything.  A dozen thoughts rushed through my mind as I realized that I might have been able to prevent her grandmother's sickness from progressing so far.

                One week earlier, Phindile and her mother Sawulina had asked me for money to pay for Sawulina's mother's medicine.  Sawulina's mother was already seventy-years-old (incredibly old with the Swazi life expectancy of 29 years) and had been very sick for the past three years.  The tablets they wanted for her apparently made her feel better, though there seemed to be no prospect for recovery.

                It was one of the most difficult decisions I've had to make since coming here.

                "Phindile..."  I hesitated, gathering my thoughts.  "My team and I try to empower you and your family by providing with jobs so, in turn, you can support yourselves.  If I give you money now, rather than letting you pay for it yourselves, I will be stripping you of that empowerment.  And I know that you should have 100 emalangeni that we paid you for last week's wages...especially because you sent your brother to get carepoint food from Nxolisi (the man responsible for distributing food to those without in the community in our pastor's absence) even though you said you needed your wages early so you could buy food for your homestead."

                Phindile told me that she'd already spent the money to pay toward her two sons' school fees that she was behind on.  She told me that the money her mother made for washing our clothes once a weeks was only enough to buy laundry soap, candles, and salt.  She told me that they had no money for her grandmother's tablets.

                I knew that she was trying to take advantage of my generosity, though this didn't make saying "no" any easier since Phindile is a dear friend of mine.  But she had been somewhat dishonest in asking for her wages early to buy food, then also sending her brother to get food reserved only for those who truly needed it, only to spend the money she'd received on something else.  It was hard to actually hold this against her, since her sons' school fees is a legitimate use of her wages, but she had been manipulative.  I needed to be strong and hold to my decision in order to teach her this lesson in responsibility and integrity.

                The conversation had ended with my suggestion that Phindile asking her brother Simanga for money for their grandmother's medicine.  He also works at the G-42 center, caring for the grounds, and I knew that he made 800 emalangeni a month and was getting paid in the next couple of days.  I wasn't sure, but Phindile's face looked angrily disappointed as she turned away from me, telling me that it was time for her mother to go to church.

                Was it my fault?  If I had caved and bought Phindile the medicine would her grandmother still be dying?  I knew that whether or not this was true that I wouldn't actually be at fault.  But I would need to have grace with myself to deal with the guilt that would come if I could have possibly prevented this negative turn in her grandmother's health.  As I spoke words of comfort to Phindile and Sawulina, I searched my mind to think of way to ask what I desperately needed to know...Could I have prevented this from happening?

                I took a deep breath then finally asked.  "Did your grandmother get the tablets she needed?"

                Her answer filled me with hope.  "Yes, I bought her the medicine with that 100 emalangeni you gave me...I hadn't spent it yet."

                This story may paint a very simple scenario in your mind, but it gave me more hope than I can say.  I was so proud of Phindile.  She had acted responsibly and with integrity.  She had allowed herself to be empowered through her wages.  She had taken care of her family by her own means.  I think the reason this simple situation gave me so much hope is that in Phindile I saw a vision of hope for the whole nation.  Phindile had accepted the opportunity to provide for her own family rather than depending on foreigners' support.  And if this is possible in one person, then perhaps it is also possible for the entire nation of Swaziland to be self-sustaining if the hand of foreign dependency stops throwing money at problems in hopes of fixing them, only to be taken advantage of for money's sake.

                I am Vusani Sibandze.  I grew up at Hlangano, Swaziland. But now I moved to Nsoko to be a G-42 soccer player (local soccer team, only two leagues beneath the premier team that's featured on television).  I like soccer very much.  That is my favorite sport.  My dream about this sport is to play even overseas.  I like my parents, even though they don't work, but I like them. My intention is to grow up and get a job just to support them.  I even like my family members and I like my brothers and sisters.  My dream is to see them successful in their lives.  But I hope through all that I'm thinking and expecting that God will give me the answer.  I'm still praying for all my dreams to be successful.

                Ah, Vusani.  Just thinking about that guy makes me smile.  Vusani has such a good heart.  I can see God in him, which evidences the fact that he is a Christian.  As he has said to me before, "I like God very much."  And he has this simple faith that's irresistible.  One night we were in the kitchen with another friend who was saying that the only way you could figure out how break a spell that another soccer team puts on you (common here in Swaziland) Is by going to a witch doctor.  Vusani's simple yet faith-filled response was, "Or you could go to God."  My favorite thing about Vusani is that he doesn't know how wonderful he is, not nearly.  He's one of the most humble guys you'll ever meet.  First of all, you know that he's humble because of what an incredible soccer player he is.  He has so much potential.  He's one of the best players on the G-42 soccer team, but that doesn't even do his playing justice because he has potential beyond our team's league.  But he barely seems to recognize this fact judging by the meekness with which he receives praise for his playing.  Now that I've known Vusani I understand what it means to be meek in spirit.  He's just really kind and gentle.  Vusani's kind of soft-spoken, and yet still very friendly.  When you talk with him he has this open, inviting smile across his face.  It's almost perpetual.  Oh, and did I mention that he loves to laugh?  Being that he's somewhat soft-spoken, I would say that he laughs at least as much as he talks.  He's just really happy...no, joyful.  It's got to be joy because even when things are bad he's got a great attitude.  After a G-42 soccer game when his team loses because of obvious unfairness on the ref's part, and I'm seething with anger at the injustice, it's guys like Vusani who help everyone remember to keep looking at the good in life even when it's easier to look at the bad.  He always has such a great attitude, and it rubs off on the people around him.  When you're with him, your soul can rest easy knowing that all must be well in the world.  His positive outlook on life combined with his gentleness and humility just makes you want to be around him.  On top of that, he makes you feel good about yourself because of the way he treats you.  I'm sure you can tell what a selfless heart Vusani has even just from reading his short story with his ambitions to help support his family.  It's really easy to be Vusani's friend because he is kind to everyone and you just get this sense that he genuinely cares about you when you talk with him.  It's like he's genuinely interested in who you are as a person, and because of that I've gained an eager interest into who he is as a person.  And in getting to know Vusani, I got to know a dream of his that has yet to come to fruition.

                Since I was a little boy, I used to go to Sunday school, whereby the teachers taught about Jesus.  And then, even at school, they used to teach about Jesus and that's how I came to know about Jesus.  I used to attend the choir and that came to touch me and open my eyes and I started to know about the man Jesus.  And more at school I used to do the subject religious studies, and even there they used to teach about Jesus.  Even at home, my parents used to tell me to go to church and they used to teach me about Jesus, and that's how I came to know about Him.  And then even at home we used to pray before going to sleep.  And then I can say all these things that I've said come from deep in my heart.  Even my parents used teach me about Jesus and that touches me down in my heart, and then I decided to follow Him and became a Christian.  I can say that Jesus helped me in so many things, like when I was still at school doing my studies, Jesus helped me because I always prayed for better results as I was still schooling, and it happened because I achieved what I wanted and I even prayed that Jesus may help me not to drop school, and indeed, I saw things happen because I ended up finishing school.  In whatever I was doing, I always put Him in front, so that in everything that I do, I can be in a position to achieve my goals.  So then I saw that I've chosen the right person in Jesus, and from then I decided to put Him in my heart as my friend.  And I saw that Jesus as a better friend, because in whatever I do, I don't regret because He's always on my side.  And I'm still praying that even now, the person I've chosen in Jesus, I'm still praying that I may never lose Him as my best friend, because He's always in every problem I come across, HE's able to rescue me.  I even love Him because HE's able to help my parents like even now they are still alive, just because of Him, even my whole family: He's able to protect them, and they are still alive just because they know Him, and in everything they're doing they always pray to Him just to live for a long time until we grow up, because even when I'm at home they tell me that they want to see me grow up to the point that I can support myself and even support them if they are still alive.   That is why I want Jesus to help me in order to achieve all of my dreams in life. I even thank Jesus that He has been so protective to my family as a whole because even now they have been in a position to pay school fess for me so that I finished school and they never abused me in that way because if maybe they abused me I would not even have finished school.   But Jesus was on my side because they didn't do that up to the end.  Now I have finished school because Jesus was so true to me as my best friend.  And I still am even praying to Him now that all of my dreams will be achieved.  And I promise that I will never ever lose hope until the end of my life.

Vusani Comfort Sibandze.  He is 22-years-old and completed his high school education in 2006, attaining five credits in English language, religious studies, history, commerce, and siSwati.  Although his dream was to go the University of Swaziland, he was not able to attend due to a lack of money.  Initially, he lived in South Africa with his relatives for a while, hoping for help from them to go on to the university.  Unfortunately, they gave him no help.  Not even his stepfather was willing to help him, and neither his mother nor father was able to, due to unemployment.  He returned to Swaziland to search for a job and worked as a security guard for a year.  He is now under a two-year contract building houses for soldiers, which he has been doing for the last eight months.  His intention was to further his education and knowledge, so that he could get a better job and provide for his parents since they are still unemployed, and support his little brother and sister (five and seven-years-old), so that they, too, can go to school.  But he has prevented from fulfilling this dream because the money he earns building houses for soldiers is not enough to pay for class fees at the university.  His salary is only $600 emalangeni a month (equivalent to $80), but this money is only enough to cover his expenses of food, rent, and clothing.  Even with such a limited income, he still will buy food for his parents, too.  His dream is to be a teacher, which requires five years of schooling to earn the degree needed.  Tuition costs plus living expenses are $24,200 emalangeni a year, an overwhelming amount here in Swaziland, but only about $3,500 US dollars a year.  We are asking for a sponsor.  This sponsor would need to be committed to Vusani's education for the next five years, giving $1,750 twice a year in April and December, at the beginning of each semester (just shy of $300 a month).  We realize that this is a lot of money, even in American terms, but we are asking in hope.  As Vusani says, "We hope because anything can happen through hope.  Without hope nothing can happen.  Let us hope."

It is men like Vusani Sibandze who will rise up as leaders in Swaziland.  When I told Vusani this, he agreed, because of the difficulties he has had growing up in Swaziland and the problems he's seen here.  Due to these first-hand experiences, he has the desire to change things for the better.  And with the way that he cares about the people around him, I guarantee you that he will be a conduit of change in this nation.  Could you be the one to help fulfill his dreams and enable him to tap into his full potential?

                "This is Africa.  Some people are honest and some are not."  Genuine concern was written across Lucky's (a.k.a. Bekhumusa's) face as he spoke to me.  "People talk.  They know that they can come to you for help because you are so nice.  But people take advantage of your kindness.  You have to beware of tricksters and carefully evaluate each decision you make before choosing to help a person.  You need to consult someone you trust every time before you help someone.  Then, if that person really is in need, you can help him or her together with that person you trust.  You have both strength and weakness, and people here know your weakness, but you need to show them your strength.  You need to have backbone and say 'no' more often.  Show them you have a backbone so that they have to respect you.  Some people don't even respect you, but they are nice to you just because they need something.  I would say that about half of the people here don't even respect you.  And though most people actually like you, some just pretend to like you because they're jealous of those you're helping and want to prove that they can get help from you, too, even if they don't really need it."

                Angry tears burned my eyes but I refused to let them come out.  I want to help people here so much, but now I find out that the very ones I've been trying to help are against me?  Who are my true friends?  Do they even respect me?  Can I really trust anyone here after so many have tried to dupe me?

                I had dealt with none to few con artists, but I had hoped that those swindlers I exposed were the minority.  But having disclosed some of those tricksters, I should've been much more wary of others' integrity, also.  I'd considered that people might pass my name around as a source of help, but I never really thought it a possibility that they actually collaborated with each other on how to take advantage of me.  And I definitely never had suspected that half of those who wanted help were false friends and charlatans who didn't even respect me.  I'd been altogether too trusting.  I felt so manipulated realizing that my compassion and generosity really had been abused.  I'd been bamboozled (you won't find that synonym on Microsoft) and I felt the deep pain of betrayed trust.  In the weakness of my compassion I had sacrificed my respectability.

                My friend Majabane spoke next.  "Do what God tells you to do, but beware, because people will try to leave you naked.  It's good to help people; don't stop.  But don't give so much that you starve yourself."  His words were true more literally than I'd like to admit.  I had already given away all but one of my skirts and had even been skipping lunch so I could feed more people.

                Majabane went on to tell me that most people in the community like me, even love me, and that they thought I was so kind and friendly, but it was a bit too late for his words of comfort.  My trust in my so-thought "friends" had been thoroughly demolished.  All I'd ever wanted to do was help.  Apparently genuine need was rarer than I'd realized.  And yet I can't change the fact that I do deeply care about these people whether they actually care about me or not, and I would really do anything in my power to help them.  But the truth is, in many cases I have done people more harm than good by "helping" them get away with their ruses, rather than actually helping them.  I had perpetuated their mentality that they could scam white people because I had made myself a victim of their subterfuge.

Daddy, I know all too well that I can't rely on my own discernment, so I'm asking You to direct me.  I am too trusting of people, and even though I don't know who I can trust now, I know that I can always trust You fully.  You say that what I do to the least of these I do to You, but what I'm doing for some of these people is simply letting them get away with their conniving schemes.  Show me how to actually help people here by giving only to those genuinely in need and refusing to allow the pretenders get away with their ploys.

"They need jobs, they need water, they need food, they need clothes..." My voice trailed off as my mom quipped, "They just need Jesus." Even through a phone connection to the other side of the world I could hear a softness and compassion in my mom's voice that knew the reality of the Swazis' physical needs. "But it's frustrating because they know Jesus! But how can I tell them that God will provide for their needs when they're going hungry, they can't afford to send their children to school, and they're dying from preventable and curable sicknesses because they can't afford the medical expenses? Who am I to tell them that God will provide when some of these Swazis are working from sunrise to sunset in the fields, every day of the week, but are so underpaid that they still can't provide food for their family while trying to give their family a future by sending the eldest child to school? God has provided for all of my needs, to be sure; but won't they feel like I'm speaking without understanding to their situation if I say that God provides, based on my own experience? I just feel like I'm feeding a hope that won't get satisfied when I tell them that God will provide for their needs, because when will those words ever come to fruition? And yet I would on to the hope that it's true, because God is by nature a provider, and His Word says that He will provide.

My mom didn't respond much. She didn't need to. Her four words, "They just need Jesus," resonated in my spirit with conviction. I was convicted because I realized what a materialist I am. There are (at least) two different kinds of materialists. First, there are materialists who are your run-of-the-mill greedy people, stereotypically from 1^st world, developed countries, who find much of their value in their possessions. They have the next-door neighbor syndrome, always trying to keep up with their friends, their social class, and their culture's expectations. When distracted, their minds wander to what they will wear the next day, to wishful purchases, and to anything else based on money and possessions. While this is somewhat of an extreme description, I want you to know that I very much could identify with this kind of materialism while living in the States. It seems to be nearly unavoidable in our affluent culture.

But what I didn't notice was the second kind of materialism sneaking up on me while living here in Swaziland. I found myself the furthest I had ever been from this first kind of materialism, only to discover the second version fully developed in me. This kind of materialism consists of trying to fix people's external problems. I came to this point where I'm willing to give absolutely anything to help those in need around me. I gave away almost all of money and clothes, I even started skipping lunch so I could give away more team food, and I gave all my time. But the more I gave, the more need I saw, and the more broken I became. This was because no matter how much I gave of myself, I just couldn't provide for everyone's needs, especially as I began to run out of my own resources. The past few days I've been evaluating my outlook on people's lives here, and I've come to realize how difficult it is for me to look completely beyond the external to see only the internal, and beyond the physical to see only the eternal.

But when I do look at the eternal alone, I see how God is providing. As Romans 1:19-20 says, "...what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities - His eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." He makes Himself available to the Swazis, and they have discovered Him to be real. It is their own prerogative whether or not to seek Him and know Him; He promises to be found by them. It is their choice to come to Him for spiritual nourishment. He is the Bread of Life, the Living Water, and He will feed their souls if they will simply come to Him.

I'm no longer going to hesitate to tell people here that God will provide for them, because I've seen with my own eyes how He provides fully spiritually and even physically as He sees fit. I think I used to believe that God wills for people's physical needs to be met every single time. This is not true. Jesus' life as told in the Gospels makes this more than obvious. Yes, He loves to provide for people's physical needs, but that far from being His mission as He walked this earth. Luke 5 tells the story of Jesus healing a man with leprosy. Jesus told Him not to tell anyone, and "yet the news about Him spread all the more, so that crowds of people came to hear Him and to be healed of their sicknesses. But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed" (Luke 5:15-16). This shows me that physical healing and provision is by no means Jesus' first priority. Rather, He healed people to bring glory to God, reveal His deity, and demonstrate His love. But their external and physical needs did not motivate His mission as Savior to the world. And neither should it be Swazis' external and physical needs that motivate my mission to reveal the Savior of the world to them. Because no matter how much I give to these temporal needs, it will do nothing to satisfy their souls.

So I must stop letting this third-world materialism I've developed distract me from the greater mission God has instilled in me in coming to Swaziland. Though I feed the mouths of the hungry, I must maintain the focus of feeding their souls. Life's only significance is that which transcends the temporal to the eternal. All else will fade away. "And this is eternal life, that they know You the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent" - Jesus' prayer to God His Father, John 17:3. "But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him..." Philippians 3:7-9a.