The Inexpressible.

           Swaziland is a place where artists should come to be inspired. It is a place of unrivaled beauty. Hillsides fall in to one another. Unnamed colors chase the sun as it sets below the horizon each night. Millions of stars crowd the heavens each night. People dream about places like this. Swazi is unlike any country I’ve been to before. While yes, this country boasts of a naturally beauty divinely inspired, I think that our Creator instilled something in the Swazi people far richer and far deeper than words could express.

Sakheli          

        The words that began our friendship were: “Can we best friends?” My heart leapt inside of my ribcage. Deep, unfathomable eyes glanced my way.

                                                Yes, dear heart, of course.

            We talked as kindred spirits would. Likes. Dislikes. Hopes. Dreams. This sweet ten- year old Swazi girl opened up her heart so readily to a strange American girl within five minutes of meeting her. We talked of where she wanted to go, what she wanted to see of the world, who she wanted to be. It didn’t matter that we hardly spoke the same language. It didn’t matter that we lived 9,000 miles apart on different sides of the Earth. Because we both understood one another and we rested in that.

            Before the team left for the day, she asked for me to write my name on her hand. She did the same for me, not realizing that as she wrote the letters on my hand she was writing them on my heart as well.

Sipho

            Half our team walks to a Care Point center three days a week. These Care Points offer a warm meal, a playground, and a sanctuary to anyone who needs a moment’s respite from the dusty roads. My team member, Blake, and I walked over to a man sitting under the shade of a tree eating his portion of his meal. He immediately engaged us in conversation. No timidity was in his demeanor, no closed off responses. He was an open book.

            And as open books usually do, this man, Sipho, came to life. Sipho spoke of his dreams to become an engineer; he played in the professional soccer world as well. His dream is start a soccer program for boys in the area here. It would provide an outlet and a safe place for these boys to play a game they love. The expression of passion lit across his face. This man was a dreamer. Blake kept telling him that was going to change Swaziland one day. And with a humbled confidence Sipho always responded with, “Yes, I know. By God’s grace.”

Skumbosy

            There sits on the side of a forgotten road, “Tears of Joy Market” in fading and chipped paint. It looks like any other building alongside this long road we take to the Care Point; nothing is extraordinary about this place. But it is the kind eyes and broad smile of the man behind the produce and the products that caught my eye. I waved at him as we walked by, an amiable passerby.

            “Who are you? What are you doing? Where are you going?”

            The deep voice shouted with honesty and curiosity. The team stopped and I went over the stand. I sensed a tender man before us. Skumebosy asked curious questions. We gave our answers. He told us of his church and his pastor and his story. We prayed over him at the end of out conversation. Before we could finish praying, he interrupted us with, “Praise God. I feel great.” A satisfied laugh fell out over my lips.

            Skumebosy sparked a deep joy inside me. With his “Tears of Joy Market” on the side the road, I witnessed a joy deep within a man’s heart.

            These are the stories that matter. These are the people who are bringing the kingdom of God to Swaziland. What an amazing thing to realize that my God placed a ten-year old girl at a Care Point asking to be my best friend; he placed a dreamer and a visionary under the shade of a tree, exuding passion; he placed a little man in a little shack in the middle of nowhere to bring my a deeper understanding of joy.

            I will always remember Sakheli writing her name on my hand, timid yet resting in her humility. I will always think of the God-given dreams of Sipho and of his unbridled passion. Skumebosy’s wide smile and fierce happiness will always stay with me.

These are the people of Swaziland. They are far richer and far deeper than my words could ever express.