Seasons

Since I have returned from Ghana, Mozambique has entered a new season. It’s a season I have never heard of. A season I have never dreamt of. I have heard of deer season. I have heard of mosquito season. I have heard of pumpkin spice latte season. I even look forward to mango season but now, I am told, we’re in hungry season. Hungry season? Hungry season! Can you imagine? Can you imagine a time of year when you plan that you'll likely be hungry? Maybe you’ll even wonder if you’ll have enough food to survive and make it through this “season.”
Since I have been back I have been busy with other things and haven’t been out doing a lot of home-based care but even sitting in my little house on the mission we’ve seen effects of the “hungry season.” Saturday there were 4 of us sitting around discussing budgets and the vision of Rubatano. There was a gentle disturbance at the door. I answered and greeted the young man in Portuguese. After the typical greetings he continued on. He wasn’t looking at me. He seemed ashamed, head hung low. I have seen this man around the mission before but I don’t know him. As he continued I learned that he was coming asking for money. His children are hungry and they haven’t eaten for 3 days. This man was embarrassed that he was having to come to us to ask for money for food.
I was disturbed by this visitor, I kept thinking about him the rest of the weekend. I came to realize that no man wants to beg. No man with children wants to tell anyone that he is unable to provide for his family. God didn’t wire men that way. God made men to be a provider. For this man to be to this point of desperation he probably does feel shamed. His ability to provide has been shattered.
On Sunday morning I had to get up in the middle of Church (here at the mission) and step outside. When I did, I saw the same man that had been on my mind since Saturday. He again started speaking, rapidly this time- not looking at me, never making eye contact. I then noticed his arm. He was favoring it and it was extremely swollen. He was speaking Portuguese so fast I couldn’t catch it all. All I knew was that his arm was in pain. I told him to sit here and after Church I would find him with Carlos and we could see what we could do for him.
A brief time after this Carlos and I approached the man. As Carlos translated for me I could hardly believe what he was telling me. Yesterday after he left our house he went to buy maize for his family. He was walking home (not far from us at the mission). When he got to the waterfall, there were 2 men there. They asked him to stop and wanted to steal his maize from him. He refused to give it to them; he took off running, slipped, fell and hit his arm on a rock. Today he can’t move his arm and he is in visible pain. As usual, I looked to Carlos to know what to do in this situation. After a bit of discussion we decided to give some pain medicine and follow up with the man in the next couple of days to let us know how he is. It’s Tuesday night and I haven’t seen him yet. When I gave him the medication, I prayed for him. I prayed hard for him. I begged God to do a miracle in this mans life- to be his provider and sustainer.
I wonder if his family is still hungry? I am sure the men that wanted to steal the food from him also have hungry family members. It’s just another “hungry season” I guess.
As I struggle to wonder how I myself will make it through this “hungry season.” I am reminded of a song Ali Rogers sings. I need to regularily remind myself to have hope:

Hope is strength to walk along,
and music to my song.
I’ll be redeemed.

I am never knowing,
I’ll be holding onto hope…

If I wait until light is shining,
I may never find the day.

Hope, I’ll be waiting.
I’ll be holding onto…

I am never knowing,
I’ll be holding onto hope.

I'LL BE HOLDING ONTO HOPE this hungry season.