Sunday in Zim - August 17, 2011
To my dismay, we went to a modern mega church led by white American pastors. I reserved the urge to say "been there done that every week for the past 11 years, but okay". While in Africa I do prefer the rural black African church where the Holy Ghost stomps, shouts and utters Jesus name twenty million times. Where the hairs rise stick straight off my arms from the goose bumps chilled by the same Holy Ghost. I do love me some tribal worship. But alas, not this time.
From the time I arrived until Sunday evening the boys have monopolized my face. They want to know everything so they probe, with permission. I love the boys so much. These teenage boys are so close to being men. In some ways they truly already are, as they work the fields and take long journeys by foot to retrieve this or that, or this and that, or this and that and those and more of these. They are always on the run to fetch something. And they are crafty. They have more skills than they realize, one of those being to monopolize my face. The girls wait to spend time with me and it seems they will wait forever. So at the end of the supper time I invited the girls to come to my room and share time with me without the boys. The boys visibly pouted and mourned. It was a funny sight. I love that they love me so much, but as I have no daughters I truly crave the girl time. Pleased, each girl agreed and thus the night of girl talk began. It almost did not end. I could not believe how much they would open up without the boys hogging the auntie. My my, those girls are something else. What a privilege and honor to be their sounding board, their temporary momma. I still have one solid week here to spend and even so I am already grieving the goodbyes that are scheduled. The thin wall that was standing between me and the girls is now shattered into dust. Goodbye, wall. Hello love.
I told the girls that I love the sound of the early morning sweeping. This morning I awoke to the loudest sounds of sweeping I've heard so far. I suppose they wanted to bless me.
I am blessed.
I KNOW they love having you there and that you bless them as much as they bless you :)
ReplyDeleteSorry about the Sunday am disappointment. I think I'd feel the same way.
Oh Melissa, thank you for the post, I almost felt as if I were there too. Sending love to you, Fatima & the kiddos through my prayers. Love ya Sharon
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