This past week I sat with a dear Swazi friend who has captured my heart. When I think of Nelly, I envision this beautiful, strong African woman with glowing eyes and a determined heart. She is passionate and persevering. She is convicting and compassionate. She is, in a word, fierce. Fiercely brave, fiercely devoted, fiercely alive.
She is alive...
Fully
ALIVE.
Nelly is 37 years old with two daughters, 16 and 21. She leads discipleship programs for children suffering from poverty, neglect, hunger, abuse and illness. As we sit together, she tells me of the 11 year old boy that she can’t get off her mind. He is HIV positive, has lost both his parents, and his grandmother who is now responsible for him is an alcoholic. As Nelly attempts to take the young boy in for HIV care, the grandmother refuses: she doesn’t want anyone to know her grandson has HIV. Instead, he will suffer and grow more sick, but at least no one will know... no one will know there is HIV in this house. Nelly tells me of this young boy, and I know deep within that she is determined to save him. She knows that God loves him and can rescue him, and she will find a way to be a part of that plan. Nelly will see to it: this boy will not die; he will live.
Nelly knows that God loves and restores those with HIV, because Nelly is HIV positive. In a nation where (conservatively) over 40% of the people are infected with HIV, still, no one talks about it. You are HIV positive? Keep it to yourself. In the face of countless cultural misgivings, Nelly shares her wounds bravely, proud of the God who has redeemed her. She tells her story openly; she loves the broken, and she reveals an image of a God who is with us in suffering, who is mighty to save in even the worst of things.
Yesterday Nelly told me how she loves the Word of God. She told me that when she feels like she is going to die; when the enemy taunts her, the Word of God is a lifeline that brings salvation again.
He whispers, “You’re going to die. You will be alone and no one will ever want to marry you with HIV. Your life is over. You are going to die.”
She whispers back, “Izwi lakho likuphila... Your Word is LIFE.”
Nelly writes beautiful worship songs. One day I asked her, “How do the songs come for you? Is it easy or difficult for you when you are writing songs? What is your process?”
Her response:
“The songs come when I am in pain.”
And that was all: the songs come when I am in pain. Maybe those songs are God’s gift to her; maybe they are her gift to Him. Maybe when the enemy hisses whispers, “You’re going to die...” a song rises within as a sort of sword and shield that sings, “I will not die, I will live; and I will tell of the works of the Lord... I will not die, I will live.”
I often envy people who have the gift of songwriting. As much as I long to write and sing my own songs, they just don’t seem to come. Sometimes I wish I was like those who, it seems, write so easily. The next time I envy the gift of another, I will remember my beautiful friend Nelly who just happens to have HIV. I will remember how she told me, “The songs come when I am in pain.” I will ask the Lord to make me more like her, because she is so much like HIM. I will ask him for a courage like hers, a bravery to persevere through pain toward the prize of His presence. I will remember that HIS Word is life; that no matter what comes, “I will not die, I will live; I will tell of the works of the Lord and sing of His wonders.”
Izwi lakho likuphila...
