A Spiritual Word: Struggle

“For to this end we toil and struggle, because we have our hope set on the living God” – Timothy 4:10a

If we are Christians, then we should struggle. If we believe in a higher power, then we should struggle. We struggle against things of this world and for the higher good. As my measuring stick for what we should struggle for, I follow Jesus’ mandate to love our neighbors as ourselves. Jesus did not qualify neighbors. Jesus does not say love your neighbors who are white, elder, and male. As we share this earth, we should always act in the Spirit of loving our neighbor, including every living being.
In my experience in KwaZulu-Natal, I often feel that respect for a person is based on age and sometimes on gender. With the dozen people I have shared that my dad has washed countless more dishes than me during my lifetime, every person is surprised. In my host family, my host parents never wash dishes, nor my half-host-brother, who sometimes visits. Also, part of my host sisters’ role is to serve food to my host parents. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen my host parents dish up supper for themselves. Older age seems to give one veto power. I struggle with respect being based on age because I grew up in a home where every person’s opinion mattered equally, no matter the person’s age. Of course my parents still had veto power, but they rarely used it and we would almost always agree on the most reasonable and best decision. I believe we should respect all people equally as a fellow child of God.
A few Saturdays ago I attended a seven hour long ELCSA Youth League Executive meeting, almost all in IsiZulu. When a snack came for the group a couple hours into the meeting and was placed on a table in front, I whispered to the person next to me, asking if I could serve everyone. She replied with a laugh that they can serve themselves. Yet, I noticed that only the Dean and ranking male members were enjoying the snack. Finally, I walked to the table and served everyone pastries and juice. I appreciated the break from sitting and I felt helpful. During a break, the male secretary and I were discussing President Zuma’s wives. Then, he offered that I could be his second wife- I was so quick in serving everyone; some women refused to serve men and they were lazy. I replied that I believe that vice-versa is also true-if men refuse to serve women, then they are lazy. His jaw dropped. I continued that our savior got down on his knees and washed his disciples’ feet and told us to do likewise. He said nothing, but looked at me with skeptical amusement. This is the only time that I’ve verbally confronted someone about sexist remarks. I haven’t even discussed the topic with my host mom. Yet, if someone is going to offer me his hand in marriage, he better know what he’s getting himself into. Growing up with three brothers, I never felt that they could do something I couldn’t based on gender. Yet, seeing women as less than men is a problem the world over, including in the US.
Finally, my last major struggle has been about whether I am where God wants me. On a day at Dalton Primary School, when I have made a few copies but mostly sat without a given task, I felt that I was serving little purpose. When I struggled to accomplish tasks based on cultural differences, I questioned if South Africa is truly the place that I am most effective with my gifts.
Yet, the reality of struggle is that struggle will make you stronger if you continue to strive to love. When I return to the US, I will show my parents more respect; I will aim to empower more women; I will live with more patience and empower people who feel purposeless. Even though these struggles have frustrated me, I never would choose that they had not happened. Even at school, the months of frustration have given me a taste of what it feels like to be trapped and powerless within an inefficient system, a lesson I could never learn in a classroom or pay to understand. Furthermore, I know that people at the school truly appreciate my presence. My principal said yesterday that knowing that I’m leaving is like knowing when you are going to die. He wants me to stay forever. Plus, by trying to not come off as the pushy American and setting a schedule when the educators respect me, I feel fulfilled at Dalton Primary School the two days per week I am at the school since January. I visit each class once per week and I am in a classroom three of the five hours per day.
Furthermore, living in South Africa has taught me to keep my perception of my struggles in check. Last week, I was making my mom a birthday card, writing down for each year she has lived an important person, event, accomplishment, destination, characteristic, or hobby in her life. As I was brainstorming a list, a man named John, from the Democratic Republic of Congo, started sharing about how, since he fled the DRC over a year ago, he has no idea where are his nine siblings. He shared, “It’s like I’m coming from nowhere.” I looked down at the paper stating blessings in my mom’s life and felt humbled. He shared many more eye opening information (which you can find on the third page of this newsletter). Keeping perceptions in check of our own struggles is a huge challenge for many Americans. Are we striving to show love in our struggle? Are we in tune with others’ struggles? May we continue to struggle for the glory of God as we grow in loving service.

God, please grant us the courage and compassion to seek to understand the struggles of our neighbors. May our struggles glorify you as we seek to be your hands and feet in this world. Amen.