One of my favourite classical compositions of all time has got to be Requiem K626 by W.A Mozart...I never seem to grow bored of listening to it with the genius layers Mozart somehow used to create his last and unfinished work. In fact, I would love to have the Lacrimosa movement played at my funeral. I ran a half marathon listening to Requiem and could run anywhere, anytime with it playing in my ears.
I witnessed something remarkable on Sunday which reminded me of this unearthly music. It was so mesmerising…I realised I was watching something that I would remember forever. Here was this tiny old woman with blue cataracts in her eyes, legs that had long stopped working, sitting in squalor. Her eyes were raised, looking up at her holey roof when she suddenly began praising her King…she prayed with such fervor,
such warrior strength, such beauty…I watched, frozen in time. I felt like it was an eternal memory and I was glad that my youngest daughter was standing alongside me also witnessing it. This woman named Margaret reminded me of the widow in the temple who Jesus also ‘marvelled at’…he saw the beauty and the rarity in the gesture of her giving her all to her King….I was witnessing this same extravagance in 2016 in the middle of nowhere, an hour and a half from Kampala. I was challenged by her faithfulness when she had waited in squalor for so long, forced to drag herself around in the dirt, going for weeks without anyone bringing her water or food. The poor in Africa challenge me with their undiminished faith. I hear so many who are desperate and wondering how they’re going to pay their next rent, school fees and afford beans and rice to feed their growing families….and yet I hear them say more than any people I’ve heard on earth, ‘I know God will provide…I know He will make a way.’ This translucent faith is naked and bare….its not dependent on this worlds goods….they seem to know Him and trust Him regardless of what they see. They remember Him well and worship Him in the most exquisite way I have ever seen in my life. I wonder that we westerners think that our culture can give them anything of worth when they seem to have overtaken us in this independent and eternal hope. They don’t need our materialism and often empty culture of 'me,myself and I-devices' and disintegrating community….we need to learn from them. For so long I’ve been baffled at the way their children play in the dirt and look happier than the children I see back at home.
Of course, it’s not an option to just be baffled at a poor woman’s faith….we have our part to play in this symphony. We can shoulder with them…not through disabling aid giving, but through empowerment…sponsored training & education which leads to employment, future industry or providing housing when things are just not going to happen without the help of others. We are always praying for hearts to open, give and act….with the help of a few generous people we are currently sending over 50 children to school, paying 4 families rent, continuing a building project at ‘Rock of Ages’ church (see film link https://youtu.be/-vTcGyC9liE?list=PLzeUr4mJBUjuaj6c_OU703z_dyDojjHsW) where we’ve seen land fully purchased, housing built for 44 children, a kitchen and water tank installed and the church building built. We are also in the process of building Margaret a sturdy home and we have someone willing to move out to the bush to care for her but need to raise a small salary for this. If you are interested in taking part in any of the above, just email me directly and I will continue to update you on the progress you have made your mark on.
In 2004 our family went through
the worst time of our lives after I contracted streptacocha A which led to
heart failure, fluid around the lungs and kidney damage followed by hellish
complications. I was in hospital for 3
weeks and then completely unable to function normally for 6 grueling months….in
that time my sister-in-law flew over from UK and gave me a word which has
stayed with me. She saw a man holding a
violin and he was tuning it and tuning it till the strings were in pain with
how much he had tightened them…..He then looked out at the audience with a
knowing look, picked up his bow and began to play the most beautiful music….music
that drew the people to Him and music that fully brought Him glory. This picture gave me hope which helped me
get through. It brought sense to
pain...Hope that God can bring beauty from ashes. He can use us through the trials we have
come through to help others.. to hone us, to make us more clear. He can also stun us with the beauty of the
poor laid low in the dust, when they’re still faithfully praising Him.
I want my requiem to be finished
on this earth…but its not a solo…I’m sure and certain it is layer upon layer of
many instruments all working to beautify this world to glorify Him together.
