I found our
return home to Lesotho was a more difficult experience this time. It is the dry season and the end of
winter. The hills, never verdant
at the best of times, were brown and dusty. Livestock had chewed the dry grass down to the ground and
with no grass to hide it, the garbage seemed everywhere. The sky was filled
with smoke; from heating fires, veld fires, and distance cane fires. It was bleak and drab and dirty. After the lush green and beauty of
Canada, it was a rude welcome back.
But, as long as
the earth endures, summer and winter, seedtime and harvest will never cease,
and spring has arrived. Even
amidst the dust and smoke and dirt the peach blossoms had been heralding that
winter would end, and the early spring showers arrived right on cue to settle
the dust, clear the smoke, and encourage the green blades of grass pushing up
from the parched earth. The
showers did bring cooler weather and a late frost the first week October, but
now there is no stopping the arrival of summer.
Compounding the
dust woes when we arrived was road upgrading that is occurring in the
neighborhood. The trucks and
equipment added more dusk to the air, but the positive is that at sometime in
the future we should have a tarred road right to our house. With the dust came daily water outages
as the road construction necessitated burying many of the water lines deeper
under the road. It has meant some
adjustments, like making sure the laundry get started early, and planning what
is on the supper menu so that vegetables can be washed before the water goes
off in the morning. Even when the
water doesn’t come on until the evening, I am just thankful that at least it
comes on, most evenings, and I find myself dancing a little jig of joy each
time it comes back on, or when I find it on when I thought it would be off.
Despite the dust,
and drab, and water woes however, I am back where I belong for this season of
my life. It has been good to
reconnect with our Basotho friends and the girls of the Mustard Seed. Through them God has again reminded me
it is his work. I am along to
learn the lessons he has for me.
Things have happened and it wasn’t me. In one area a church group has begun to meet weekly with the
local Mustard Seed families to encourage them and help them to understand God’s
desires for them. A couple of our
girls who had been making poorer choices are choosing better paths. One is behaving very responsibly and
has become a considerable support and help to her caregivers at a time when
they had a significant need.
Another young
woman, one of Wendy’s former students, who has patiently waited on God to
provide a university opportunity received a call the first Wednesday of
October. The bus was leaving for
medical school in Zimbabwe on Saturday.
What a flurry of activity it was for her getting paper work and packing
done, and goodbyes said. But today
she is realizing her dream as she adjusts to a new country and situation and
back to being a student. Our role
in the lives of these, and others, has been little more that to just believe in
them and walk with them. God
weaves the story. And how he
weaves.
The need for a
men’s group has been on my thoughts for many months. Working with the church we attend, a home group for men has
been started in our house. The
second week a new fellow attended.
He was hurting and had contacted our church and been directed to our
group. He shared his hurt. His marriage has failed. He is caring for his two children and
struggling with his small business.
As we talked more the next week, I learned that his wife is someone I
know, the woman who three years ago helped me find a house for an orphan
family. She also attends our
church. I don’t want to presume
God’s plans, but I wonder at what weaving of family reconciliation he might
accomplish in this family, and in the family of another man who has attended.
How the next year
unfolds, I do not know, but I know that I am back where I am supposed to
be. The women on the board at the
Mustard Seed are dreaming God sized dreams. The men’s group will lead who knows where. We will share
with our Basotho friends good times and difficult. The school year is winding down for our Mustard Seed girls,
and we have another 4-6 applications to add to our number in the next school
year. Rude welcome back or not, I
am looking forward to experiencing what God has planned in my life and the
lives of others in the year ahead here in Lesotho.
~ Benno ~
