Do you know how hard it is to become friends with someone who doesn't speak the same language as you? Trust me, it's difficult! Now I'm not saying I don't have any malawian friends, because I do: there's Tina, Enala, Liaka, Gofiyas. They may all be in 1st grade but they still count as friends...right? I'd say they do, but how about some my own age?

Do they count as friends?

Lately, I've been praying to God that he would give me confidence to talk to the teens in our village. I actually do talk to them, just not how I talk to my azungu (white) friends. When we are passing, I will say "Wawa!" or "Muli bwanji!" If they have a question I will answer. If I like something that they did, I will tell them. But then nothing happens after that. We just smile at each other, and walk away. 

However, I have suddenly been feeling random bursts of boldness when I am around the teens. I admit I don't always grasp the opportunities that God gives me, but I am really trying. Which is why I am so thrilled that I have become "friends" with a group of teenagers all from the same family. I will write about them in in my next blog.

My more mature friends

From Chickens to Jesus!?!?

     As Joel, Abby, Chloe, and I were making our way back home from a walk through the village, we noticed how incredibly beautiful the clouds were. It was about 5 o'clock, and the glorious orange sun was shining through the clouds, making the sky look like heaven. Joel and Abby observed how the clouds were perfectly placed, like someone had cut them out and hung them there. Then they realized, "Hey! It's God who put them there!"

     As we were meandering down the path, we noticed that one of the clouds looked just like a chicken. We all laughed because, really, how many clouds look like chickens? Just as we looked away, Joel yells, "It's Jesus!" This grabbed our attention. I quickly looked up, expecting to see Jesus advancing towards us on the path. He wasn't there, but as I looked up, I saw him! Jesus was in the clouds! It was a detailed image, like a Michelangelo painting come to life. The sun was a spotlight illuminating his glory.The glow of it brought me peace. Looking back on it now, it's completely crazy that we first saw a chicken, and then Jesus. That's the way it is here in Africa; everything's a surprise.

Sadly, we did not have a camera with us, but here is an example of how beautiful the clouds are in Malawi. 

5 Hours for 15 Minutes

     As we've had Baby Mada now for six months, we sometimes wonder if his family has lost interest in him. Does his Aunt Mary ever miss this once-starving child, or is it such a relief to have one less mouth to feed? Has his sister Matale wondered how he's doing, or is Mada one less sibling to worry about? In the beginning, these questions would pop into our minds constantly. But as time went on, Mom, Dad, and I were always reassured that the Saizi family would never forget this little blessing. At least once a month, Aunt Mary and Abambo Saizi could always be spotted trudging up the long dirt road, carrying at least one or two children. Some may have only come out of guilt to check on a child, to make the people think that they still care about their kid. But honestly, I don't believe that a single family in Malawi would walk five hours on a dirt road, up hill, all the way from Chapananga Village to Hope Village just for a fifteen minute visit. These visits are not urged by guilt, but by love.

Cousin Gracie 

 Twin brother Jospeh

 Sister Matale holding Mada and Cousin Gracie 

Matale giving cuddles to Mada

 We had the kids over for a weekend at our house :) (Gracie on the left, Matale on the right)

 Dad playing with Baby Mada

 Gracie and Matale love to smile!

 Mada feeding himself :)

 Matale trying my dads glasses :P

 Mada eating a cookie

 Brother Thomas, 3 years old

 Brother Chamamza, 7 years old

 Brothers sitting next to each other...a big difference!

 Me and the boys <3

 Giving cuddles to Thomas

 The kids doing a dance for us :)

 Family picture!

Mada and Chamanza

Chikhwawa District Hospital

Every Wednesday night, we tag along with Abusa (Pastor) Ganizani to his ministry at Chickhwawa District Hospital. I really enjoy this weekly ministry because it’s one time a week I know I am making a difference. For two short hours, we get to show God’s love, bring smiles to faces, make the sick dance, and make a light a little brighter where it’s been oh-so-dark. Just how dark is Chikhwawa Hospital? Let me describe it for you.

When you first walk in the main entrance, you see the central nurse and doctors station.  This is just a cement counter with piles of cluttered papers here and there threatening to bury the staff under its weight. One of the many problems at Chikhwawa Hospital is a lack of help. There are only two nurses and one doctor on duty. How are they able to take care of the 100+ patients, you ask?  Well, every patient must bring a companion (wife, husband, grandparent, friend, sister, brother, etc) whose role it is to take care of them. They must cook for them, bathe them, make them comfortable, and tend to their every need.

The hospital is divided into seven wards: Men’s Ward, Men’s Surgical, Women’s Ward, Pregnant Ladies, Nursery, Children and Tuberculosis Ward. Come along with, and I’ll show you a few of the wards first-hand. Of course I don’t have any pictures, so I will try to paint them with my words.

Men’s Surgical Ward

When I first visited the Men’s Surgical Ward, I was really scared to enter  because, honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. Maybe huge wounds and cut-off limbs? Men just out of surgery? Blood? But there isn’t any of that. The worst I’ve seen are metal bars through legs. They attach a weight to the leg to make sure the bones grow properly. One time while we were there, there was this old, skinny man lying in his bed who caught my eye. While we were singing worship songs, he kept moving towards the edge of his bed.  He couldn’t sit up, but I just felt like he wanted to stand and praise the Lord. And just as the song was getting to the most joyful part, he stood up! He was weak and wobbly, and all of us feared he would fall with every step he took. His struggling steps turned into a joyful dance while Abusa Ganizani played his guitar. As we left that ward, the man’s wife pushed her way through the crowded corridor and tugged at Ganizani’s arm. “My husband hasn’t walked in weeks!” What a miracle! God is truly amazing.

Pregnant Women’s Ward

My favorite part of the night is the Pregnant Women’s Ward. We visit them in a little dark courtyard where they spend most of their labor time. From afar, I see them relaxed and lounging on the ground (well, I’m not sure how relaxed they are in labor, but they seem calm enough). But once they spot us with Ganizani and his guitar, they come alive and pop up like a whack-a-mole. They are ready to dance! Ganizani strums a special song just for them that gets them clapping, spinning, and best of all…bouncing up and down! These ladies are nine months pregnant and they are jumping, singing, clapping, and dancing! Nothing can stop them from praising the Lord…and hopefully giving birth soon.

Children’s Ward

Last but not least, we wind our way through a maze of pathways outside until we end up at the Children’s Ward. This room is bigger than any of the other wards, but definitely NOT big enough to sleep 100 children. Sometimes when there is an overload, they are forced to sleep on the ground. The ages in here range anywhere from newborn to 12 years old. I love going into this ward because no matter what condition the child is in, it’s easy and fun to get them to smile. Recently, I stood next to a newborn baby hooked up to oxygen. He was just lying on the bed, lifeless. I wanted to cuddle the baby so he could feel God’s love and know that everything was going to be O.K. That was a picture I will never forget. That same night, a small child, maybe 2 or 3 years old, was lying on his back. Both feet were wrapped and lifted up to a metal bar where his legs just hung straight up and down. I didn’t understand it. My dad explained that this style of treatment was  something you would see in the 1950's or earlier. Possibly even Civil War era.

Some people think our weekly visit is a blessing for the patients at Chikhwawa District Hospital. But for me, it’s just the opposite. When I am there, I feel God’s presence. When I get home, I realize the blessing was a gift for me. Something about the patients and their families impact me. In every ward, they are dealing with AIDS, malaria, T.B., burns, broken bodies, and always death. Really, they have no reason for joy. But when I see them light up to sing, dance, pray, and smile, I am forever changed. Their joyfulness and hopefulness are lessons that I carry with me every day.