Hope?

Today was one of those days that was so windy you had to walk with your head down to avoid getting pelted in the eyes with dust. As I walked to the YWAM base to meet Aunt Matilda, I wondered if she would show up or not. We’d be walking everywhere, and it was starting to rain. But as I walked, I heard something inside of me say, “The wind and the rain doesn’t stop AIDS.” It reminded me of Christmas days in Canada when my Dad, a physician, had to work at the hospital. Just because it was Christmas didn’t mean people didn’t get sick or have accidents.

Despite the increasing wind and rain, I saw Matilda coming at 9:45am and my Japanese friend Keiko and I went to meet her. Matilda is one of the most positive people I’ve ever met, and she didn’t seem to mind the weather conditions, so I thought, “I won’t either.” Matilda is a sixty year old coloured lady who has spent the last fifteen years working for the Jeffreys Bay HIV/AIDS clinic. Matilda’s job is to visit people infected with HIV in their homes. She is paid 600 rand/month(less than $100) to care for the sick and dying. She knows each patient by name, and during her visits she prays for them, reads them scripture, massages them, dresses their wounds, brings them food, cleans them, talks to them, and makes sure they’re looked after by their families. But I’m confident that Matilda would continue her house visits regardless of how much she was paid. Yesterday she said to me, “The patients are my children, because I love them. They all call me Mama.” Matilda loves her patients with the love of Christ. She is an inspiring woman. I haven’t even mentioned her other activities - she helps lead an HIV/AIDS support group, teaches Sunday School to about sixty-five children, and cares for her ninety-something year old paralyzed mother. She speaks seven languages(and today she informed me she was learning an eighth - Dutch) and literally can’t walk anywhere without being stopped on the street by a friend - “MATILDA!” She knows and loves everyone, and everyone knows and loves her.

We only walked for about five minutes when we came to the first house. Inside was a tiny little woman sitting on her bed with a blanket covering her legs. Matilda spoke to her in Afrikaans and afterwards told us what they’d talked about. The woman, named Liana, had tuberculosis on top of being infected with AIDS and needed medication from the clinic. Keiko prayed for Liana, we said goodbye, and left. On the way to the next house I inquired further about ARVs(anti-retroviral treatments). I learned last night from Amanda, the support group leader, that ARVs are free in Jeffreys Bay, but they are ineffective if they aren’t taken twice a day at the same time every day. Many of the patients aren’t responsible enough to follow these instructions, and the medication often goes to waste. The clinic decided to give ARVs to people only if they can prove that they will take them consistently. They allow them a trial period with vitamins and check-ups. If they can pass that test, they are given the ARVs.

The next patient we visited was also sitting upright in her bed with a blanket over her tiny, tiny legs. I had to look carefully to make sure there were legs under that blanket. But her tiny legs weren’t the first thing I noticed about Nomaste. At first I thought she just had no eyes, but then I saw the white part of her eye peeking through a small opening. Matilda spoke fluent Xhosa to Nomaste, who was more lively than Liana - she spoke loudly and quickly and held a baby in her lap. Matilda told us that Nomaste wanted us to pray for her grown grandchildren who had no money and were looking for work. She also wanted us to pray for the pain in her body. Before we prayed, we read Psalm 23 in English and in Xhosa. Keiko, Matilda and I prayed for Nomaste, and afterwards she said that the pain in her left arm, which I was holding, was gone. Matilda cheered and clapped and said “Hallelujah!” while the little skeptic man in me rolled his eyes. “Surely she just thinks the pain is gone,” he said. “Surely she’s just saying that to make you feel useful.” Then Matilda asked me to read John 9, which tells the story of Jesus healing a blind man. The part that struck me the most was when no one believed that this man could have been healed.

The neighbours and those who had seen him before as a beggar were saying, “Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?” Some said, “It is he.” Others said, “No, but he is like him.” He kept saying, “I am the man.” So they said to him, “Then how were your eyes opened?” He answered, “The man called Jesus made mud and anointed my eyes and said to me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ So I went and washed and received my sight.” (John 9:8-11)

The Jews did not believe that he had been blind and had received his sight, until they called the parents of the man who had received his sight and asked them, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How then does he now see?” His parents answered, “We know that this is our son and that he was born blind. But how he now sees we do not know, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him; he is of age.” (John 9:18-22)

It was so hard for me to believe that the pain was gone in this woman’s arm - I was worse than the Pharisees who didn’t believe Jesus could make a blind man see.

Keiko and I sang two songs for Nomaste and we all chatted for a while before we said goodbye. The next house we entered was a decent size - there was a small kitchen, living room, and two bedrooms - it just lacked walls. The woman we came to see was not sitting upright. She lay very still on the bed under the covers. She had eyes, but they were lifeless. They were open, staring at nothing, focusing on nothing. She did not respond to Matilda - whether she spoke to her, touched her, wiped her mouth with a cloth, or put another pillow under her head. This woman, named Gladys, was visibly having trouble breathing, and her whole upper body heaved every time she inhaled. We prayed and sang for Gladys, then sat down with the other ladies in the house. Matilda later walked back to where Gladys lay and asked us to pray for her again. As we prayed, Gladys made a loud squealing noise - the first sound I’d heard from her. It seemed like she was getting worse. Keiko prayed for complete healing - that which can only be found in heaven. Where there is no more pain, no more AIDS, no more suffering of any kind. Keiko and I sat down while Matilda and another lady stood over Gladys. Then Gladys died. They closed her eyelids and her mouth and pulled the blanket over her head. Gladys’ children came home from school. I don’t think anyone told them what happened. One of the ladies called the police, and they came within ten minutes. One of the policemen talked casually with me and Keiko, asking us where we were from, making jokes about Japanese cars and Canadian weather. The whole atmosphere in the house was so casual. I saw no tears. I sat there thinking, “Doesn’t anyone realize that this woman just DIED?”

I’m sure that Gladys’ family and friends were upset about her death. Just because I didn’t see it doesn’t mean that they didn’t feel any sadness. But what struck me is that they’re probably used to it. They’re used to people dying. Young people. Gladys couldn’t have been any older than thirty-five. It’s the reality of this horrific disease. Gladys had no husband. Her children... who knows what will happen to them? My guess is that they’ll live with relatives.

Please don’t finish reading this feeling sorry for the poor people in Africa. Please take five minutes and ask God what He wants you to do as part of the body of Christ. Never underestimate the power of prayer or of giving. Pray that God will change this situation - pray that the next generation will be educated about AIDS and will make wise decisions. Pray knowing and believing that God hears you and will respond to your requests. HIV/AIDS creates a situation that can seem absolutely hopeless. We need to fight that feeling and spirit of hopelessness with our prayers and with our actions. Please fight with me.

“But I will hope continually and praise you yet more and more.”(Psalm 71:14)