The Shack in South Africa

'The Shack' in Ntuzuma, S. Africa

To those of you reading this, many of you are friends and family and also fan's of the book,
"The Shack" (an amazing book if you haven't read it).

I heard it said, the shack represents our hearts where we meet with God. Well this week doing ministry I met the heart of God in a shack (viewed to the right) and another mud shack not pictured.

Please bear with me as I am attempting my first
The inside of a shack where we blog entry, it is about my experience Thursday
found a sick man the door pictured and friday of this week September 18 and 19.
is where we found him laying

The work we are starting here is called Ukukhanya Life Care Center, and the area we
have begun reinstating is our home-based care.
We have 12 caregivers who work in the section they live in and care for those with HIV and AIDS, the elderly and disabled and to identify the
OVC (Orphaned and Vulnerable Children).

The week began for us with my first Zulu Funeral, many of you got my email about my first day back in S.A. and Zola the Zulu lady who died two weeks back. Her funeral was Tuesday and it was a cool and windy day, the family was so poor they couldn't rent the typical tent and chairs for a

A man's home from 1984......the shack! funeral, so they put up a tarp and borrowed chairs from our church. Prince did the funeral and I helped with a short word. 3 ladies from our team came to do the singing (no instruments of course only their god given voices, lovely). The cemetary was desolate, there were already about l0 graves dug, and Zola's was one. Prince and I were the transport, with my rented Hyndai Getz, and his corolla. plus one van from the funeral home for family. After we get there and say a few words the men lower the casket covered in a blanket, and shovel the pile of dirt over it, there are about 3 shovels so they shovel and fill in the deep grave, and then when tired others take over. The observers stand and sing the whole time.

no headstone, only simple crosses (if they can afford) and no flowers. Since we didn't know we were doing the funeral til 6:30 in the morning, we picked flowers at the last minute, we were the only ones to do that. The son, laid a stick with leaves on the grave. But this isn't what I wanted to write about... it is the shack story.

Wed. night two of our caregivers in "C" section (actually one of the nicer sections of Ntuzuma) called and asked if Prince and I could transport a patient on Thursday to the clinic, a new, very sad case. Of course we said yes and arranged to pick them up at 8:30 am. We went to a cul de sac (where we know a Pastor with a sick wife lives). but we walked past his house, around a few other houses and came into a clearing where there was the shack.

A neighbor came up to talk with us, and then I followed the two caregivers into the shack. It was dark, with light shining through the slates of the two wooden walls, and the flapping piece of rusty tin. On an elevated door covered with a folded blanket, lay the thinnest man I ever saw. One eye was missing, his hair was matted and thin, and clothes were hanging along the wall, covered in dust and dirt. He pulled himself to a sitting position when i entered. (I think when they see me around as a mulungo (white person) they think a ghost has just entered. Whites are almost never seen in Ntuzuma, let alone off a footpath in their home).

He immediately tried to put socks on as he knew we were taking him to the clinic. (apparently the place was quite cleaned up by our caregivers as today at meeting they said there had been feces everywhere (as there is no running water, no electricity, and and outhouse somewhere but not in the vicinity as I looked today and never saw one). We grabbed his I.D. book, got some pants on him and began to walk him out. He was leaning on our caregivers as we picked a path straight up a hill strewn with tin cans, alcohol bottles and weeds. A neighbor going before us kicking the path clear. When we reached the top, I took the keys from Prince and Prince scooped the old man into his arms and carried him the rest of the way. He was in such bad shape. We all piled into the car, I gave him my water bottle as he said he was thirsty. We headed to the clinic.

Prince asked where he was from and he told him a rural area. He said he had no family around.

We left him at the clinic with the caregivers and we called an old folks home prince knew about in the rural area. We thought we would take him there and post a picture in the paper asking for family (does anyone know this man)? When we went back to the clinic, he was getting an iv of fluids, and prince was able to get an address out of him for family in Kwamashu the neighboring township. We decided to go there since he wouldn't be done until 2:00pm. If no family we would go to the old folks home in the rural area an hour away. J1111 was the house number, so we drove around. We had his name and ID book with a picture in it (like our passports).

We found the house, and walked around back, a child came out and a teenager. Prince spoke zulu to them, then a woman in her 40's came out, probably a niece to the man who turned out to be 58. She looked at the picture, said (in zulu) it looked like her uncle but the name and info didn't match. (later we were to find out the white man he had worked for got him a fake id so he could get services as he had lost his). The niece went in and an older woman maybe 60's came out. She looked at the picture and confimed he was her brother.

I held my breath.....would they care, would they help, what was all this history. I knew from my AIDS work in america alot of times there are burned bridges. The story unfolded...............

this man had left home when he was 23, never to return. He lived in this shack not that far from his family (quite a distance walking but a neighboring township). They had no contact with him except a few years back they bumped into him at a clinic and he ran away saying he had diahrea, but I am sure it was shame. The two ladies spoke to the children in the home, and put on shoes and jumped into the car with us. We still had an hour til his IV was done so they wanted to see where he stayed and we wanted to see what they wanted to take. We went to the shack

again. The neighbors saw us and came over. When they saw this was the family the look of shock was unmmistakable. They had helped care for him and then called in our caregivers. He had lived there for 24 years and said he had nobody. The neighbors were so relieved and grateful to us, for finding his family to take him in. My heart ached as I walked with the shack with the two ladies, tears filled their eyes as they saw the gaps in the walls and said how cold he must have been, and looked at the door he used as a bed. They accessed his meager belongings and began to pack his things. Prince came in and said, lets go see what is happening at the clinic and we will come back for his belongings.

At the clinic we went back to the room where he was laying on a bed receiving IV fluids, he was dehydrated. he had just received an HIV test where it was confirmed he had AIDS and TB.

We went in the room and he raised up when he saw his family. It was all in zulu, but I knew they said he was coming home with them and that was that. The nurse confirmed no point in going to the hospital at this time, and we could take him with us. (oh that room had a 14 yr old or so girl, so thin and getting IV's along with a mother (young who was pregnant) with a 1 year old getting IV's. I was quite sure all in that room had AIDS. The girl went to the hospital. And when the nurse asked about us, Prince said we were here since our caregivers had found this man, we had found his family and our plan was to build a hospice. She said there is such a need.

We took the man home and I waited in the car with him, while the ladies and Prince went down to pack and lock the shack. Up the footpath, came the neighbors and family carrying garbage bags of clothes and blanket, and a plastic pan filled with pots and pans. (amazingly all fit in our car. The five of us thanked the neighbors and drove to the sisters homesite in kwamashu, where we helped them unload and take him inside. We informed them of his status, advised they burn the blankets and we would bring new tomorrow. We would bring gloves and diapers (PTL). we exchanged numbers and left.

Prince and I prayed as we returned to the office for the family and the man, and actually rejoiced that in such a dire, desperate situation, we witnessed the fathers heart, inside the shack!

The family forgave, and took him in like the prodigal! the neighbors showed love and compassion as papa tells us we are to do. Loving one another. The caregivers, gave of themselves as they had cleaned him up and called for help, in a situation of very unsanitary conditions. I think it is called laying down their lives for one of the least of these.

Today, Friday, after taking the caregivers home from our weekly meeting, we took supplies to the family and checked on the man. He lay on a mattress in a home filled with kids, cleaned up, filled up (as he had started to eat), and on clean bedding. He looked 75% better. Isn't it amazing what Love can do????

I leave you with that as I must go to sleep. Tomorrow I will blog, where this encounter led us to another shack needing the fathers love. This one ......was pointed out to us as we took the family to the man's shack a neighbor thanking us for helping pointed down the path to a mud and stick house and said there are some orphans living there in dire straights. We promised we would come Friday, and today (friday we did) .......I will write tomorrow.

He loves us and He continues to show me, He is especially fond of each one! He will go to great lengths to reach the one person. Knowing what to do and how to do it, keeps us so utterly dependent on Him!

Much Love,

Penny