‘M’e Lyllian was unequivocal: “We are just dying here. Each day we have students who are losing their parents and family members. Pray for us. Pray for the students that God would sustain them and give them the strength to keep going. Pray for me that I have the strength to keep going.”

This week I travelled to the north of Lesotho with two Scripture Union colleagues, Ntate Metsing and Ausi Poloko. We were going to visit teachers responsible for supervising school-based youth clubs. The first we visited was ‘M’e Lyllian at Qoqolosing High School. Toward the end of the visit, I asked her how we might pray for her. And her answer, alluding to the HIV/Aids crisis here, gave the impression of a woman at the end of her tether.

As we got back into the car I remembered a bleak BBC report that described Lesotho as a nation on the brink of social collapse. It outlined a triple crisis of unemployment, high HIV/Aids rates and crop failures. It ended with the words: Now an air of despair hangs over every hut and hope has all but disappeared. I asked Ntate Metsing and Ausi Poloko if this was a fair comment. Ausi Poloko replied that it was true for many households but not all. I asked if it was true for someone like ‘M’e Lyllian.

This seemed like a curious and bold description of someone who had just confessed to being overwhelmed by her students’ pastoral needs and the weight of their grief. To be frank, ‘M’e Lyllian did not look like a conqueror. Yet, Ntate Metsing went on: “She is more than a conqueror, not because she makes things right, or changes what is happening in her village, but because she still has hope in Christ.” We opened up Romans 8 as we bumped across the broken road and sure enough Paul does describe believers as more than conquerors exactly when they are overwhelmed by trouble, hardship, famine and nakedness – yet have an assurance of God’s love. Overwhelmed but not overcome.

Unexpected Places

When we look for Christian witness we often look for Christian leaders turning the tide against the odds. We search for shining examples of good practice who can point to tangible results. We long for transformation and the evidence of it. This is only natural. Because we have a glimpse of the possibilities and promise in God we are at odds with the way things are and we long for them to be different. If we look at Lesotho in this light we do see tangible examples of faith in action. We see Sibongile Chondile, an 19 year old, who has galvanised his local Anglican servers’ group into the kind of group that visits the sick after blowing out the candles at the end of a Sunday service. We see a local teacher who leads a primary school youth group at Thabong Primary School who visits the bereaved in her village to sing and console those who mourn. We see Christian workers introducing innovative ways to cultivate the land and improve harvests. We do see parts of the Christian community caring for orphans and widows.

However, we do not generally see ‘M’e Lyllian and many like her. We do not normally see ‘M’e Manthabiseng, a teacher at St Mary’s, who was beaten and left for dead by her husband and yet beams hope despite long-lasting disability and pain. We do not see her as she draws alongside her students to share the reason for her hope. We do not generally see the small group of believers at St Joseph’s High School who meet each day, tucked away in a dark room, to pray, read the bible and encourage one another to stand firm in the hope God has given. When we look for evidence of Christian witness we often overlook those who are grasping hope in desperate times. We often overlook the witness that is so important and the very witness that has most to say about the nature of our hope. We often overlook the very ones who are more than conquerors because they do not look like conquerors.

The everyday witness of faithful followers is like the yeast that slowly and imperceptibly changes the dough. The yeast, like salt, is easy to miss. I am privileged that in my work with Scripture Union I do get to see, meet and fellowship with those who are the salt of the earth.

The BBC can be forgiven for its bleak outlook for Lesotho. Indeed, it is true that many are saying, as Israel did: Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.  (Ezekiel 37:11)

However, others, in full appreciation of how bad the situation is, in the same awful circumstances, rejoice as Habakkuk did (3:17-18).

The miracle of hope

It is Habakkuk’s response that kindles hope. I find this hope meaningful because it survives the hardy test of daily living – even on a bad day or during a bad year. It does not pretend that things will get better soon. This week I have met several believers who are no longer asking for, or depending on, miracle healings or a quick fix, as wonderful as these might be. No, these believers are asking God to provide another kind of miracle – the grace and strength to be true to him and to their neighbours in trying times until God sets things right. Many are asking for the courage to love and the faith to continue trusting God. I believe in miracles. Nevertheless, I find this quiet resolve to serve God as inspiring as any miracle. In fact in many ways it is a miracle of God’s grace.

A journalist may find hope evasive in Lesotho, yet it has not disappeared.

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