Diana

The past few (okay, many) days in Pretoria have been spent consolidating the lessons I learnt while I was in Zambia. And I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not quite done yet. Hahaha. Still have 5 more days worth of lessons to reflect on and compile.

In the process of consolidating, I read through my journal entries for each day, because I wrote down many lessons while I was in Zambia.

So... I just read an entry, dated 9 Aug 2010 (National Day!), and was totally encouraged by one particular incident that happened on that day. This incident was one of the 2 that left me feeling fulfilled and very very very (to infinity and beyond) encouraged. (The other one was my second visit to the Mother Teresa's AIDS orphanage. I don't think I blogged about that though. A story for another time.)

Here's the excerpt (doesn't that word look weird?) from my journal.

Oh, by the way, this was on the last day of the Love Africa conference.

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The morning is spent preparing for tea time and cleaning up after, and I sign up to go for the outreach instead of attending a workshop.

A team of 15 of us gather at about 1150 and head to Ranchhad Hospice. I'm much hoping to visit Mother Teresa's one last time, but I guess God has other plans.

{As the van pulls up at the entrance of the hospice, I see a lady sitting by the dirt road. She's so thin, literally just skin and bones. She looks like she's in her mid-20s, and suffering from something horrible, maybe AIDS? I have no idea. There's a small puddle of water in front of her, which I find quite strange and random. And then I realise it's vomit.}

I can't remember how I felt then, this is a post-edit to my journal entry; just something I remembered while recalling the incident.

We're split into groups of 5; I'm with Privy, Cheche, and another Zimbabwean couple, to "attack the wards", as our driver puts it. We end up in the last ward (there are only 5 tiny wards and 1 bigger ward, the one we go to), which has about 6 beds occupied by ladies.

I smile as politely and friendly-ly as I possibly can, totally lost as to what I should do. The lady near the door doesn't return the smile, though she greets me in English. (I am now a firm believer that smiles are the most effective ice-breakers.)

We stand around, unsure and totally unconfident. (Oh, Privy and Cheche are in another ward). We're now in the larger section of the ward, the section with 4 out of the 6 beds, and Helen (I think that's her name) and I stand at the corner waiting for a translator.

I do the only thing I'm good at doing in situations such as these - I smile nervously at the patients. My eye is caught by the lady in the 2nd last bed. She's young, and she's smiling, and for some reason, I feel drawn to her. Maybe it's because she looks my age, and she looks friendly? Haha.

The other team arrives and head to the last bed. I join Robert as he talks to this lady, whose name I learn is Diana. Robert just talks non-stop, telling her about sin and Jesus and God's love and bla bla bla, and she's just going, "Yes", to things he says, but I know she's not listening, or at least, not interested.

It's funny that such things annoy me. I mean, you don't just go up to people, disregard their situations, positions in life, or even their character and identity, and shove the gospel down their throats. It just doesn't work! (Maybe that's why I'm so against Street-evangelism in Singapore...)

So when he finally finishes and is ready to talk to the next patient, he asks me if I have anything to say. I really want to continue talking to Diana, so I ask if she would like to have her lunch, otherwise I can continue talking to her. She smiles and pats her bed, inviting me to sit with her. By now, I've learnt that she's 26 (by looking at her Medicine Information Chart <-- sorry, I have no idea what it's really called), and that she speaks really good English, an obvious blessing for Marianne who can't converse in Bemba.

We talk for a good half hour about how she ended up in the hospice, how she's been recovering, about the siblings we have, about marriage, about the number of children we want to have (lol), about orphans in Africa, about the different countries and cultures, about Zambia, about nshima, about the future, about her aspirations to be a teacher...

Time flies and I know we're leaving soon, so I ask her how I can pray for her, specifically. She asks mainly for healing and full recovery. So I ask if I can pray for her, and she gladly agrees!

I take her hand in mine and pray for what she asks for, as well as all the things we've talked about. Before I leave, she tells me that she's really encouraged by us making the effort to visit them :) I don't share the gospel with her or anything (she claims to be a Catholic) but what I do share with her is God's love, and I know that through our presence and prayer, she is encouraged spiritually :)

We take a photo together and I say goodbye, very much wishing to somehow meet her again, although I know the chances are close to zero.

But I leave the hospice fulfilled, amazed at how God chose to use me to encourage someone. I know that it has nothing to do with MY discernment or courage, because I never would've asked if I could continue talking to her. Even when I did, I was hesitant, but the words came out of my mouth anyway. And I'm glad that God used me. In a way I never would've expected... :)

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So that was the incident! I realised, while typing it, that it probably isn't of much significance to you. It's hardly an exciting story, no drama, no whatever... Hahaha. But anyway, it was a major encouragement to me - one of the few times I know God used me for a greater purpose.

Just thought I'd share it with you.

Since "good thing must share".

Goodness, we Singaporeans really slaughter English...

Which reminds me.

I was watching the YOG highlights the other night (actually I do that almost every night over supper, which is more commonly known to regular Singaporean folk as "dinner") and couldn't stop laughing at the Singaporean commentators. Somehow it's just weird to hear the Singapore accent over the speakers, making comments about runners or gymnasts or whatever.

I think I've been away from Singapore a little too long.