Stories from Sparrow

Blog Intro:
Tuesday was one of the longest days we have had since arriving at Sparrow.  We went from two funerals to laser tag, a tough transition for even the most seasoned minister.  The day’s event brought before us the humanity of Sparrow, but we each saw that humanity in different ways.  Here is an account from each of us.

Buried and Broken (Rachelle):
As I try to put my thoughts into words, all I can
think about is Siyabongo.  He is 7 years old.  He is
now an orphan.  His face cannot be put from my mind.
Yesterday, he buried his mother, who died at a young
age from this heartless disease we call AIDS.  They
both lived here at Sparrow.  This was one of two
people we buried yesterday.  The other was a man who
was taken in off the streets, who had no one at the
funeral yesterday but a couple of friends-no family.
I cried for Siyabongo; for these loved ones we lost; I
just cried.

I had the honor of sitting next to Siyabongo in the
car on the way to the burial.  We were silent.  I was
silent the entire service.  As I sat by Siyabongo, I
thought about how he felt.  Although we don’t speak
the same language, we did that day; I felt his
pain-the pain of losing a mother.   It has been almost
three years since she has been gone, but it was a
fresh feeling that day.  How I wanted to hold
Siyabongo and tell him it would be okay; that Jesus
would heal his little heart.  I put my arm around him
and I silently prayed for him.  It would be a long
road ahead.  A road that he knew nothing of.

He cried as they buried her.  He threw flower pedals
into her grave and songs of praises and mourning were
sung by all who were there.  Vusi preached and prayed.
It was a day of grieving for everyone present.

A different perspective was given to me that day, a
perspective I had yet to see.  I saw death in the face
of AIDS.  All I felt like doing was being alone.

Where is your heart today?  Where do you need healing?
What perspective is God asking you to look from
today?

Healing Touch (Kate):
“And all the crowd sought to touch him, for power came out from him and healed them all.”  –Lk. 6:19

On the drive home from playing laser tag with the teenage girls, I felt something tickle my shoulder.  I glanced down just in time to see a head sink into my shoulder as one of the girls napped on the seat next to me.  The bakkie jerked its way through rush hour traffic, but I stayed as still as possible, hoping to prolong this tender moment.  Looking down at her, I was struck by the healing I sensed in this simple posture.

From the hugs Rachelle gives to every kid she sees to the way Caroline cradles the babies, from the way siblings hold hands as they frolic across the playground to the way mothers carry their children on their backs, everywhere I see this healing touch.  Perhaps I am romanticizing what some consider a basic fact of life, but I think not.  An American missionary we met a few weeks ago at the Baptist Training Center told me about a study in which babies were changed regularly and given food and water.  Some babies, however, were never touched, apart from that required to change their diapers and clothes.  The babies that were not touched quickly sunk into a state of despair that bordered on death while those who were touched thrived.

Although I am not sure about the ethics of this experiment, the point is striking: without touch, we die.  That an act as simple as rocking a child to sleep is as powerful in the fight to keep him or her alive as the medicine the doctors prescribe seems too incredible to believe.  It is difficult to understand how powerful and healing a touch can be, until you consider those moments when you have been broken, and the Lord has reached out, touched you, and healed your brokenness.