SAM Ministries has a number of grannies in their sponsorship program. These ladies, for one reason or another, are alone. More often then not, they are caring for children or orphaned grandchildren. The life expectancy here is around 48. To be elderly in Mozambique means that you are a survivor. I love our grannies. I really do.
One of our grannies has been having a hard time lately. Years ago leprosy left her quite disabled and she was abandoned by her family. Months ago a fall left her with what we think is a broken hip. She didn't want to go to the hospital, though. She preferred to stay at home in her little brick house built for her by the mission. After her fall she wasn't able to get around well at all so the mission built her a little latrine of sorts close to her home and her neighbour, another one of our grannies, has been helping her.
Several times over the years, from what I understand, her husband has come and reclaimed her, taking her back to where he lives with his other wives. I'm not entirely sure why. Perhaps he thinks the aid she receives from the mission (because she is alone and other wise destitute) will be funnelled over to him if he takes her home. I don't know. She is rather neglected when she is at her husband’s house. Her friend told us that no one fed her the last time she was there. Whether this is true or not, I don't know, but either way, neglect occurs and eventually she comes back to her own home, back to her kind neighbour, back to our care.
In the last few weeks our visiting team of nursing students had been visiting this granny almost every day, helping her exercise her legs and keeping an eye on some of her other chronic health problems. About a week ago her husband showed up and announced that he was taking her back home again. This was hard news. We didn't know how she would be cared for there. She was living in a nice, brick home. At her husband's she would be back in a hut. She wouldn't have a special latrine close to her house. How would she get to the bathroom? Would she eat? Would she get enough to drink?
What was even harder was trying to understand that she wanted to go with her husband. In our eyes she had a good life right where she was- a nice house, good neighbours, food, medical care. However, she wanted to leave, so the nursing students transported her back to her husband’s home.
We were talking about this around the fire one night. Many voiced their worries and concerns and their confusion as to why she would want to return to her husband. Did she want to think that her husband loved her? Did she want to think that her family wanted her at their home out of a concern for her well being? What would make her choose what so obviously seemed to be second best?
As the discussion continued I sat watching the fire and began to think about how I do the same thing.
I thought about the Father. I know that he offers me bread and fish, not rocks and snakes. I know this and yet I choose to worry and sometimes even doubt that He will provide.
I know that the best choice I can make is to love, but instead I choose anger or envy or bitterness.
I know that truth will set me free, but I chose instead to think in a way that is comfortable.I make choices out of fear instead of a desire for freedom.
Too often I choose distant second bests.
What a waste my life will be if I fill it with second bests.
How exciting to think that the best is available to me, should I have the wisdom and courage to choose it.
