On Christmas Day, 2016, a group of five young adults and I embarked on an African adventure that was over two years in the making. Carly, Katie, Joe, Rachael, David and I are pleased to be in Malawi for nearly two weeks embracing (and being embraced by) the gift that is the partnership between the churches of Pittsburgh Presbytery (Presbyterian Church USA) and Blantyre Synod (Church of Central Africa: Presbyterian). Here is part of our story.
Well, what a difference a day makes! The rains that began on Monday night returned – with purpose and determination – on Tuesday.
Our program called for us to visit the Mkuluwiri Prayer House in the morning. I was already nervous about this trip because the last time I tried to visit the place, the vehicle in which I was riding became mired in the mud along the side of the road and it took about six hours and about forty people to lift it onto the hard-packed clay of the “main” road. Perhaps the Malawian branch of the AAA has improved in the last seven years, but I wasn’t eager to test that theory. I was glad when the day dawned bright and clear and I could see that the road was good all the way through to the prayer house – even though we had a few sprinkles as we drove.
We had just arrived at the prayer house when the heavens opened. I mean to tell you, it was raining HARD! We tried to begin a worship service with a couple of dozen eager and intrepid souls, but the torrents of rain pounding on the tin sheets made it literally impossible to hear anything.
We sat in the darkness and noise for a few moments, and then one of the men began to sing. The chorus picked up, and we discovered that 35 people singing at the top of their lungs is a prayer and praise that can transcend the din of the downpour. One of the men then retrieved a drum from the back of the building, and I got the other one – to the amusement of our hosts! We taught the Malawians “Lord, I Lift Your Name On High” and “When Jesus Says Yes (Nobody Can Say No)”. Eventually the torrent subsided into a hard steady rain and we decided to continue. Carly preached her first sermon ever, and she’d tell you that it was a little on the short side. Oddly, no one there complained about a short sermon! She was great. We left the gift of a soccer ball and shared a few more songs, and then began the drive back to the paved road. I was more than a little nervous after the addition of an inch or two of rain, but our trusty Nissan Patrol got us through the muck and mire and saw us through.
The second stop of the day was cancelled due to the rain, and we had a leisurely lunch break together at the manse (pastor’s home). That gave us a chance to do a little reflecting, to play some Bananagrams, and be bored for a few moments.
Longtime friend of CHUP Edith Makuluni is a nurse at the Ntaja Health Center, and we visited that facility in the afternoon. It was crowded and hot – Tuesday is the day when patients living with HIV/AIDS receive their anti-retroviral treatments, and many people had come in for treatment of various illnesses and maladies after the long New Year Holiday. We toured the labor and maternity rooms, where we met and prayed with about eight women who had just given birth; we then visited a group of expectant mothers who have come to the Health Center in anticipation of their labor beginning (the Health Ministry encourages pregnant women to come to the hospital on their due date, even if labor has not yet begun, so that if there are difficulties with the delivery there is some experienced help on hand).
We also took some time to simply walk through the town of Ntaja, and it’s no understatement to say that each of our young people found some aspect of that experience to be simply overwhelming, if for no other reason than sensory overload. The tremendous crowds, the pungent aromas, the raucous din of the mosque and the music and the vendors… well, it was an experience to say the least.
When we were walking past a field of maize (corn), and I saw how the stalks had been bent by the rain, I considered how much this experience must feel overwhelming to those who have not traveled to Malawi or anywhere in the developing world before. I was reminded of the brief poem written by Robert Frost, entitled “Lodged”:
The rain to the wind said
“You push and I’ll pelt,”
And they so smote the garden bed
That the flower actually knelt
And lay lodged – though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.
As I considered the adventures of traveling through this landscape in the rain, I also remembered the words of the Psalmist: “I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry mud, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.” (Psalm 40)
I continue to be ceaselessly proud of this team and the work that they are doing to share grace and friendship to their hosts and to each other. I am also amazed and impressed at the work that our hosts are doing on our behalf. My prayer is that the seeds that are planted on this trip will continue to bear fruit of hope and transformation in the weeks and years to come.