This week I got this email from Kristen McGraw, a missionary to Swaziland, that says how I feel about that place:

I woke to the singing of angels this morning as the sun
came up and peered through the old curtains of the window in our room.
They sang of the Lord's provision of his love and his power. "Your
light will shine when all else fades..."

These songs are what keep me longing to hear more in such a silent place sometimes. The silence is deafening.

We don't TALK about how HIV AIDS is killing our families and our neighbors.

We don't TALK about how Thandi has been faithful to her husband and he
has given her AIDS because he has been sleeping around. And she is
fearful to tell him because he will blame her for giving it to him. And
now her children will be left to be put to intense work by him.

We don't TALK about the status of women here and how they are beaten
and abused. We don't TALK about how a swazi women cannot refuse her
husband sex, even if she knows he is infected.

We don't TALK about the little girl down the road that was sold by her
own mother to a  neighbor to be a slave girl for her. We don't TALK
about the brothels in Swaziland run by 18 year olds and the American
business men who come for the little 8 year old girl.

We don't TALK about the children abandoned by aids that live with the
grandparents, until the step grandfather decided he doesn't want them
because they will eat his food.

We don't TALK about all the witchcraft surrounding Swaziland and the
darkness that is here. We don't TALK about the prostitute and her pimp
that came here yesterday to see her two sons just to size them up to
see when they can come for holiday to visit. And by visit they mean for
them to work sexually. These are two of my Swazi brothers who I have
loved the last three years and played with and now lived with. But we
don't TALK about it.

We don't TALK about how I have shaken the hands of these men and I feel
a groaning in my spirit because these are some of the same hands that
have beat and raped. But we don't TALK about that. We DON'T TALK ABOUT
IT.

Why the hell not? My heart is screaming. My wounded soul is desperate
for people at home to TALK. And if you won't talk then I will. And you
could at least have the decency to listen.

God gave you ears to hear. Eyes to see. How can anyone who hears these
things and sees these things turn away? Yes when we TALK about it, it
hurts. It seems overwhelming. It is too much, too sad and we ask, "What
is the point if no one seems to be listening or wanting to see change?"

The point is we can change the children. We can change this next
generation. What is going to happen to these children if we leave them
because we thought it was too hard?

We have to start talking.