WOODPECKERS, WORMS AND WOMEN
WOODPECKERS, WORMS AND WOMEN
The wet of winter in the Western Cape of South Africa has me dressed in my warmest sweatpants and oversized, fuzzy socks. I do not plan to go outdoors today. I am camped by the fireplace, sipping a steaming drink. Our ancient oak tree is reflected in the water pooled around the paving on our patio. Beyond that, silver drops glisten on the indigenous plants of our garden. This is winter on the southern tip of Africa.
Through the water-streaked window, I watch a woodpecker search for food. She walks a few paces and then franticly pecks at the ground. She then walks a little further and pecks at the bark of the Confetti Bush laden with tiny white flowers. Heavy drops of water fall on her head but this does not deter her. She pushes on in the wet and the cold, ceaselessly pecking for a meal.
I am warm, fed and cozy in our home. A fire is crackling in the grate, my husband by my side, as I work through month-end reports from the various churches who partner with us. As I read I cannot but think of how many women in the communities where we serve are like the woodpecker in my garden.
Despite the wet and the cold of winter, women in vulnerable communities push on, pecking away at their tasks. There is no grate for a cozy fireplace when you live in a house made of corrugated sheeting. You know that if you do make a fire to keep warm or to cook food, you run the terrible risk of a wayward spark setting your entire home on fire and then quickly spreading to the homes of your neighbors who are but a few feet from you. This awful scenario plays out every winter somewhere in South Africa, leaving hundreds homeless and many dead. So, you decide to forgo the fire and a cooked meal. Instead, you give your children bread and cold water, yet again.
Your baby, tightly swaddled on your back, fidgets and frets. She, too, is hungry so you rest your weary feet as you put her to your breast, wondering how nutritious your milk is since bread is all you’ve eaten for many days.
Today, however, will not be like yesterday. A knock on the door of your shanty house startles the baby. You sooth her as you get up to open the door. Before you is your pastor. In his hands is a large, steaming bowl of food which is quickly shared among the children with more than enough left for you. He hands over a bag filled with dry diapers, a new blanket, warm baby clothes and a month’s supply of sanitary pads – a luxury you did not think to have this month. He goes back out and when he returns he carries a bottle of gas to replenish your small two-plate stove. Warm meals can be cooked again. In a box, left on the table, are the raw ingredients for many nutritious meals. The children have discovered a bag of candy and with cheeks bulging as they chew and eyes twinkling, they all compete for the attention of their pastor.
This is EmpowerHer in action. For those of you who have already participated, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. For those of you who still plan to sponsor a woman (or two), I sincerely thank you. Your gifts make life a little easier for women in difficult situations. You bring peace to hurting hearts and Jesus to places He has not forgotten.
The woodpecker in my garden is scurrying among the underbrush. The soil of our garden is full of worms and she has found a long, juicy one. I am grateful for so many, many blessings. Today I especially give thanks for woodpeckers, worms, the precious women we serve and for you.
May we think on these things!
"And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."