There are no words.

First of all I want to apologize to all of the people who
read my blog while I was in Africa. I stopped and I am sorry because there is
so much that I feel like I could have told you and should have told you.

 I have been
back in Canada for almost 10 and a half months but I think writing this blog is
just as hard now as it would have been in the beginning of April last year when
I should have done it. Lately, I have really been feeling a push by the Holy
Spirit to write about a few specific things so here I am, still at a loss for
words and still wrecked by Africa but humbled and overjoyed in the presence of
my creator.

As some of you may know on April 5^th, 2009 a
terrible accident happened in South Africa that left two of my teammates with
minor physical injuries and claimed the life of another.

My friend and sister Sarah Buller went to heaven that day. 

Sarah was beautiful. She was joyful and full of love. On her
blog she had the title Loving those, who
others may forget. That was her heart. I had the privilege of living in the
same cabin with her in JBay for the first half of our time in Africa and we got
really close. It was always Sarah who would stay up late with me when everyone
else had fallen asleep and just soak in the silence or watch a movie. She came
to Algoa with us one day to check out our ministry and before we left I went to
find her in the bathroom and she was there with tears in her eyes because she
was so purely broken for the children she had just only met, the ones that
everyone else forgets.

To say that it was hard on my team would be an
understatement. It wrecked us. Not to say that we weren’t wrecked by the death
we saw around us everyday in our ministry but this was different. It was so
real, so close and so invasive. Things like that were not allowed to enter into
our intimate circle but it did and it broke us.

This time it wasn’t the Africans who were the broken people
or us broken for them but it was us who were broken and in need of repair. That’s
not what we went to Africa for. We were
sent to mend the broken hearted not be the broken hearted. It was very much
a switch of what we though was our purpose but it made us rely on God so much
more than we would have, and even thought we could, and in turn brought us
closer together, and more importantly, closer to Christ.

Sarah’s death is one of those situations where you can
confidently say that through it God got the glory, that in it self is something
so beautiful. Instead of allowing us to reside in our grief He gives himself
glory, provides endless ways for us to praise Him, and then in turn pours joy
into our broken hearts. God is so good. I can also confidently say that many
people have heard of Sarah’s story, which so beautifully points to God. Sarah’s
story cannot be told without sharing about Africa, and sharing about God’s
love. I honestly pray that someday, sooner or later, when God calls me home
that like Sarah all the lines of my story will point to Christ. Down to every
letter and every comma. I praise Him for putting her in my life, even for such
a brief season.

Me and Sarah at the Market in Manzini when she visited us from Port Elizabeth.

When you ask me “How
was Africa?” and I say “good,” I admit, that is not the truth. There is no
one word or phrase that can sum up utter grief, complete joy, and all
imaginable emotions in between. Not to mention immeasurable spiritual growth
and the constant desire to be there even still. If you find such a word let me
know, but until then things like awesome, and If I could hop on a plane
right now back to Swaziland, I would, will have to suffice.

 

Ngiyabonga Kakhulu, Thank You So Much!

To God be the glory,

Jillian.