Suffering vs. Celebrating

The harsh contrasts here are sometimes difficult. Friday, all our staff were either heading back from Mozambique with a team or in Manzini getting ready for the Christmas party for 3000 children from the 11 Manzini CarePoints that was to happen Sat. (The Oasis @ Swaziland CarePoints will be Tuesday in Mbabane.) It was rainy and busy and I got a call that the funeral for the cook, Gugulethu's, baby is for Sat. and they needed to settle with the funeral home for the coffin. We had no one in town to go by the funeral home and they would not release it on credit. Fortunately they are open 24 hours (most businesses close promptly at 5:00 pm and I would not be back to Mbabane until after 5 pm). I arrived with a coworker, Nomtie around 6:30 pm. Both Gugulethu and the teacher Precious were there. They were trying to make arrangements.
It was good that we arrived later than we had thought so we could be there when they were there. I found out that when someone dies at a “state hospital” it will only be released to a coffin from the “state funeral home”. The body cannot be released until the bill is settled. In my true American fashion I wanted to know if we could call the hospital, find out how much the bill was and just send the amount with the funeral home to pay when they picked up the body. Okay, I have a lot to learn. That is not how it’s done in Swaziland. You do not tempt any Swazi by giving them money that doesn't belong to them, even if it is E100 ($15). That was exactly why we were at the funeral home to settle the account for the coffin instead of giving the money straight to the mother. When you are so poor, it is best not to put the temptation out there.
We settled the amount for the coffin and we were to call the funeral home when we had settled the bill at the hospital and they would come pick up the baby, free of charge. They would however charge to transport the baby in the coffin to the funeral (which was closer than the funeral home). I asked if they could just pick the baby up in the morning and transport the baby from the hospital to the funeral which would be closer than bringing it back to the funeral home and they said no, that would still cost. He assured us someone was at the hospital that we could settle the bill with.
Long story short, there wasn’t. I drove Nomtie, Gugulethu, Precious & myself to the hospital. The mortuary is a separate building next to the hospital that has a big black solid gate. It was dark, foggy and drizzling as the 4 of us squeezed through the partially open gate to find the lights on, the door unlocked but no one home. There was the big freezer like door off the entryway and a bare looking office with no one there. We tried calling out. Then Precious and Nomtie left to go talk to the guards to see if they could find someone to assist us in settling the bill (let me also note you park outside the hospital grounds and then walk through the guard gates to even get to the hospital). I was left with a grieving mother who I could tell was just barely holding it all together and who only spoke Siswati, at this point I was feeling so inadequate since of course I only speak English. I couldn’t even ask if her baby had been a boy or girl (it was a girl). I coached her to sit down as we waited. Nomtie and Precious came back to say that the mortuary was only open for new bodies the hospital called them to come get and we would have to come back @ 8 am (the time the funeral had been planned to take place). All the Children’s Cup staff would be in Manzini by 8 am for the start of the biggest event for the CarePoints for the whole year and none would be available for this, including me. I always want to have the answers; to be able to rescue the situation. God is patiently teaching me I can’t do it all. It’s so painful. I left the details to be worked out with Precious (I did give her the money for the bill, she is a proven, trusted, responsible teacher). She would catch a ride to the hospital and meet the mother there @ 8 am and Precious would also work out someone to transport the baby to the funeral. I then drove Gugulethu and Precious home. It was dark, muddy and foggy as we wound around little narrow roads to get as close to Gugulethu’s homestead as we safely could in the car. She was to walk the rest of the way in the dark alone. I got out of my car with her, gave her a 10kg bag of mealy meal for her to take with her and gave her a hug. I wanted to be able to do so much more. Change her environment from the harsh reality it is. I can’t. But God is with her just like He is with me.
When I finally got home I collapsed in to bed. I want to be able to answer why? Why is the world in Swaziland and other places so out of balance as AIDS ravages a population? Why is there so much pain and hardship and poverty?
"All praise to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the source of every mercy and the God who comforts us. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When others are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us." 2 Corinthians 1:3-4
Saturday I was at a party trying to make a day special for kids who live in this stark reality daily. It was fun watching them in the blow-up jumpy castles, having relay races, getting their faces painted, eating hot dogs and soda and chips and getting to sing and have fun even in the rain. It was sad as I thought about the mother burying her baby. All I can say, without Jesus, there is no way I could handle all of this. In fact, He’s teaching me, I don’t have to, He will handle it for me. By His grace alone I will.