There is a majestic view, “lovely beyond any singing of it” that presents itself like an offering any time my eyes notice it there. This view of lush trees and rolling mountains stands proudly, unaffected by those around who may choose, or not choose, to appreciate it. Today, like many other days since my arrival, I am accosted again by its absurd luxuriousness. For me? I can’t help but ask. And the mountain and the God of the mountain answer with a friendly, Not for you. For anyone.
I am indulging today in its luxury – lamenting, if I may pander a lament – that I do not have a glass of spicy South African cabernet to make this afternoon the pinnacle of my sensual experience. Regardless, I am here, on my veranda, alone for the first time since I’ve arrived. My roommates have all found adventure beaconing them elsewhere this morning. I am lady of the manor for a day – enjoying my freedom and this view. The clouds have even managed to part momentarily from their long embrace in order to let the sun reacquaint herself with the trees standing happily below, gently waving in the delightful breeze on this humid day.
I have found myself at complete peace today. Last night I discovered my prayers have been answered by the God who knows her girls better than we know ourselves. Upon coming home yesterday, I walked into the comfortable company of my new roommates; we ate popcorn and chocolate and watched a television series on Lisa’s computer for hours, all huddled up on the couch in order to see the tiny screen. I forgot that it goes like this. Girls are tentative to let their guards down. We are nervous and territorial until something slips, some story that unites. Suddenly we are comrades in the beautiful journey of femininity, shaking our heads at the funny things men do, or laughing at our own propensity to cry.
Beyond that, I have found lovely companionship in the little friends that live just down the hill from me. I say little strictly because they’re so young! Between 18 and 20 and yet amicable and brave. Lacey, youngest of them all, is slowly showing me more and more of the beautiful heart Jesus gave her, with which she boldly loves the children of Africa. She is a beautiful girl of incredible wisdom. We plan to knit together.
And so, I discover that I am in a full life.
Now, let me tell you about my Thursday Adventure.
People have been asking me, what is a day if your life there? But so far there has not been enough consistency for a typical day. That won’t come for some time. Thursday though, I got a taste for the work of Hands.
I went to K2 which is in Masoyi. Here, programs for the OVC’s (orphans and vulnerable children) take place. I stepped out of the vehicle (the one I was driving!) and was immediately drawn to some kids that were playing outside. Spotting us, they ran full speed towards us. Not knowing what to do, I opened my arms into which they delightedly jumped. One girl, grabbing my hand, began to kiss my arms. I was so overwhelmed by their outpour of love I could not stop laughing. I just laughed and kissed their perfect cheeks and tried to fill my arms with as many as I could hold all at once. Upon entering the building, I found even more such children, all there as though waiting for someone to lavish their passionate embraces on. I could hardly pry myself away.
When I finally managed to, Kristal showed us The Classroom. The Classroom was like a spiritual experience. It’s like a sanctuary. I felt myself immediately full of joy to see the tiny shimmer of something I could offer these kids. Advice, answers, solutions, hope: of these I am bankrupt. I bring only my knowledge of the multiplication table and simple sentence structure; gifts I am anxiously waiting to share. I quickly began searching through the few boxes of books: a collection of random and ancient texts that comprise our delightful, if not bizarre, library. I organized them into little groups by subject, careful to record what is what, before filing them on the floor beside the cockroaches (for want of a better shelving system!). It is a humble room that’s for sure. But I found a kind of joy in that too. Ashamed I discovered, at the many things I claimed to “need” back home in my previous classrooms. I am excited to learn how this all goes – from Kristal and Lacey and the kids who will come on Monday. I can’t wait to meet them.
As we gathered up our things to go, I poked my head into the crèche again to see all of my perfect little friends laid out on mats on the floor. The afternoon breeze came gently through the open windows and blew over their little cheeks. I listened for a moment to their little breaths, little snores, until one opened her eyes and noticed me watching her. She grinned, stuck out her tongue, and then immediately went back to sleep. Even typing this I am overcome by it all. How is it that ones as perfect and delightful as them could be alone in a world as cold and heartless as this? How is it possible that they are little orphans living with older siblings or perhaps an aging Gogo? Who will take responsibility for them?
And here is where I find myself on the cusp of the scary reality I am about to enter into. There is none. There is none but he who made the mountain and this view and this day. There is none but him who takes the time to care for me. And he, lest I forget, will make a way for them. I can’t wait to see his hands working. I can’t wait to see his kingdom come for these little friends who sleep soundly on floors and kiss passionately the arms of strangers.


PS Thank you to all of you who take the time to read and comment on my posts. I feel like a very blessed and loved girl to have so many thinking and praying for me “back home”. It is all of us who are here learning. Thank you for letting me be your hands.