From Dust to Dust

Posted in Reflections by Nathan Clendenin on February 6th, 2006

I’ve witnessed the whole spectrum of life today. Starting with a visit to a hospice care facility, where I met three terminally ill men. At first I viewed the visit as business, it was just part of the job I need to do while here, but then as I saw one of the men brighten up and smile, I realized the inevitable nature of the situation. The room smelled of sickness, and I had the urge to wash my hands after we left, even though I never touched the patients. I felt a little bit crass taking their photos, but got over it, knowing they had consented and didn’t mind. I was also comforted by the fact that I am not seeking to exploit them or manipulate anything whatsoever.

At about 4pm I had the opportunity to pray for a woman who is very ill with HIV. We had prayed for her with Vincent earlier in the week. I felt a bit nervous as I’m not a pastor, but regardless, I prayed for her and the experience was wonderful. Just across the street with checked in with the house where about 15 children are living, all brothers and sisters and cousins to each other, with only an uncle to support them with his half time job–whatever’s leftover after he buys his liquor. I had a hard time explaining to them that they shouldn’t pose for me or poke the other one just before I took their picture. I don’t think I got through, but in time I think they’ll let me blend in. The poverty in the house is remarkable. Yet the kids are so beautiful, and ironically it felt quite easy to make beautiful photographs in there. The light splashing in from the doorway onto the textured green wall wrapped itself around anyone standing near it, creating a beautiful soft blanket, highlighting the wonderful shining faces.

Later, we drove Granny to the hospital to visit her granddaughter Kate who gave birth today to her daughter, Happiness. I photographed granny with the baby and Kate, and it was wonderful. Towards the end of our hour long visit, I sat staring into space, feeling the urge to pray for this new child. I thought of its future, with so many strikes already against her: A teen mother with no parents of her own, no husband or even boyfriend, living with a grandmother who is getting quite old and is the only source of income for her. I thought to myself, “If I really believe what I am trying to show in this project, that faith in God is the only feasible source of hope for all the hurting in Mamelodi, then I must prove that now, by praying for this child, and asking God for a miracle.” After thanking Kate for the tremendous privilege it was to share this part of her life, I prayed, holding Kate’s arm in my right hand, and the child’s head in my left:

“God we thank you for the beautiful gift of life you have given us today. We thank you for this precious child, Happiness, and we ask that you bless and keep her. In the name of Jesus, guard and protect her, and allow her to grow up with health, knowledge and wisdom, knowing your tremendous grace and mercy. God, help Kate to be the best mother on the whole earth. Teach her your ways, and will you be a father to this child? Set your angels around Happiness, blessing and keeping her safe from all evil. In your name we pray, Amen.”

My praying was slow with a quiet tenderness, as that is how I was feeling. I almost wanted to cry, as I think it was quite a bit to take in all in one day. As the rain fell slowly on our way home from the hospital, the Toto lyrics “God bless the rains down in Africa,” took on a whole new meaning.