Christ is present in our Suffering

This is the drama, I wrote for the morning wworship time here at the retreat center in Kenya. Each of the three days I will write about the lives of these three characters. I am the narrator. Three other MCCers from Ethiopia are the characters (street child, someone who lost a close loved one, and an ordinary middle class woman - all Ethiopians\African). The story went well today. It is better acted out but at least you get an idea. The part in quotes is the voice of God.

Jesus not long ago I received the prophesy that you have great things in store for me but they will not come without great suffering. Jesus, each day I wake up, here in Africa and I walk to work. Each day I see hunger, homelessness, pain. Why, must there be so much suffering. Why does the world outside the safety of my compound seem to be falling apart.
Jesus, today I need you. I need a message of hope. I need to know you are here.

“My child, do not be afraid. As you walk today, listen.”

I begin my walk to work. Trying not to think of the struggles it may bring. As I travel the dusty roads, I meet a youngster I’ve seen around the office. My friend how is your day?

Sister, it is not good. My dad, he was a truck driver and on his journeys he slept with many women when he returned home he brought some money but he also brought HIV/AIDS. He soon became sick and then my mother got sick too. Now they are both dead. I went to live with my grandmother with my five brothers and sisters. But she is old and can not care for us. I left. Now I live on the streets. I am very hungry now. Can you please give me money. I came to the city, I thought it’d be better.
Please excuse the way I look. I’m part of a street gang. It’s the only way to survive. I got in a fight. The other girl insulted my mother. I confess, I steel. But I do so to live. I do so for protection. You do not know what the streets are like. I am cold. I am hungry. I am lonely. I am hurting. Please, can you help me. I am 14 years old.

Jesus, can you lie? Where is the hope? I find no comfort here.

"Open your heart. Listen, my child."

I continue. Trying to listen. I meet another person along the way. My friend how is your day?

You want to join me for a drink? You should really try some chat. The local drugs are great. They will help erase that pain from your face. Trust me I know. Yes, I am aware it is not yet 9 am. But you have to understand the pain is to much for me to take. My sister, she died young. She was my very best friend. She was so kind and good. She had her whole life in front of her. She was the kindest person I knew, always giving to others before herself. Life is not the same without her. Why did God, let her die? Why, didn’t he take me instead. I’m messed up as you can see. I will never amount to anything. I am worthless. I help no one. It should have been me. Can’t you see; I should have been the one not her. Please, join me for a drink – you too will feel better.

Hopeless, that is what this is. God, I’m not so sure you haven’t deserted us. I continue on my walk. Everywhere I look there is pain. I meet a woman with pretty clothes and money to spare. I really hope she can bring a breath of fresh air. I go up to her and say: You want to join me for a cup of tea?

Okay, but you have to know. I’m worthless. My life is a series of failures. I have food in my stomach and clothes on my back but there is no one to love me. My father, he beat me. My mother died young. All my friends have deserted me. I have money. I have power, but I am all alone. I started my own business, it is successful. But my life is empty. There is nothing in store for me. My wealth simply covers my wounds. You think I am happy, but really I’m not sure I want to face tomorrow. There is no one to care. No one to show me what love is. I have money but I am poor.

Jesus the suffering is great. I am not so sure that the people know the hope of what is to come. Jesus, why is there so much suffering. Why must suffering be a part of growth? Why must these people wander in the desert dry from lack of love. Hunger in the wilderness for lack of provisions. Why must there be such suffering?

"My child, I have entered with you in suffering that you may now enter with others. “Comfort my people, say I your God. Speak tenderly to these my children and proclaim that their hard service has been completed, that their sins have been paid for., that they have received from the Lord’s hand double for their sins. Listen to the voice calling “In the desert prepare the way of the Lord make straight in the wilderness a valley for our God. Every valley shall be raised up and every mountain and hill be made low. The rough ground shall become level the rugged places a plain.” My glory will be revealed and all humankind together will see it. Yes, my child, I am present in your suffering. I am present in your suffering so that you may join with these in their suffering too"

Thank you for being present in suffering.

Acting on HIV/AIDS

This past week I have been typing up the stories of street children and orphans in RPC's various programs. The stories of the orphan children follow the same general pattern. I was born to my parents, they made very little, I have several brothers and sisters. Then my father died and my mother got a low paying job that was not enough to feed our family. Then either the mother also died and they went to live with relatives who could not care for them or the mother was no longer able to support them. The mother or the relative then brought them to RPC hoping for assistance. And if I am typing their story it means RPC is giving them assistance. This assistance includes food, clothing, medical care, personal hygiene care, and sometimes food. The stories of the street children are similar but different. Many of these children have parents that are still alive. Those with living parents wound up on the streets for one of two reasons; first their family was to poor to care for them and second they fought with their father and were forced to leave home. Some of the children are double orphans which means they lost both parents and as a result are forced to live on the streets.

How easy it is for me to tell these stories or to read these stories back in the States and cry at the injustice. But now I don't just have stories. I know and am friends with many who stories I write. I see the transformation in their lives as they cry for hope and now have the possibility of a future. But most of the time when I am with these kids or teenagers I see more than their story. I see people. The former street children are my friends. The children double orphaned by HIV/AIDS are my brother and sister. I watch movies with them. They tease me about kicking the soccer ball. We attempt to understand each other. Yes, sometimes they want to call me sister, mother, aunt because they hunger for that but the beauty is they are happy.

When I received an email last week from a friend describing HIV/AIDS awareness week on campus last week and reminding me of the orange T-Shirts we wore four years ago to show the prevalence of those orphaned by HIV/AIDS I paused to think. Here I see billboards cautioning about the transmission of the virus. Here we talk openly about it. Here my friends are working one on one with those infected. Here I know children left orphaned by the virus. Here the children are the orange T-shirts not an abstract representation of something I can not fathom. Here it is reality. Here I know the statistics; I live the statistics. I share in the pain with the victims. But I still can not fathom the extent of the HIV/AIDS pandemic. The terms we give it seems almost silly compared to the reality. It is strange to think of my friends as statistics. Strange to think my little friend who tries to teach me Amharic is a child on one of the compassion cards who has a sponsor mother in Australia.

I wonder how it feels to be a statistic. I wonder what it is like to be described as a victim of the HIV/AIDS pandemic. I wonder how it feels to know there are people in Indiana wearing a T-shirt that represents you. I am not saying this is bad. Awareness is very good. And child sponsorship is good. But it is strange to think the materials are not materials but reality.

Lets keep acting on AIDS – let me know what you discover as ways to act and I will let you know what I discover. Perhaps you can help me understand how the awareness you create on campus and the relationships I have with the "statistics" can bring peace.

The Kingdom of God is like a Story

I leave shortly for Nazret and am somewhat at a loss as to what to write. Today I had tea with my friend Abraham and then we went to visit his week old baby. As I meet with Abraham he shares parts of his story. Though here is not the place to tell his story I will share some words he shared. We were talking about the power of sharing our stories. He says that in sharing his story he hopes to help others know they are not alone in their suffering. He told us that the pain and suffering he has gone through has helped him develop an empathy for fellow Ethiopians. Abraham has a good heart and much wisdom. He has made mistakes and he has suffered greatly but he is willing to share and he is learning to keep going and to find hope.

On Sunday the MCC team prepared the church service. Instead of giving a sermon we told stories. Our stories began with the Kingdom of God is like…

I wrote that the Kingdom of God is like a story. By sharing our stories we can work to bring reconciliation. As I share my story and Abraham shares his story we learn that we are interconnected. By sharing our stories, though details may be different, we learn that we all share the human experience and in that experience there are joys and sorrows. As we listen to each other, the other becomes a person. A person who is like you, a person who you can relate to. When the other obtains an identity it is harder to hate, harder to ignore. When you know a person action and reconciliation become more likely. The power of story brings about shared suffering, shared hope, shared joy, shared healing, and shared reconciliation. And this is the Kingdom of God where each person matters.

I watched “Cry the Beloved Country” today. The movie takes place in South Africa in the 1940s during a time of great division and violence between blacks and whites. At one point we hear in the words of a white man that the violence is their fault. I can’t remember the rest of the line but I feel like it had something to do with the white man needing to take responsibility for separating themselves from the black South Africans. The movie depicts two fathers one whose son killed the others son. The two fathers one black the other white meet each other and share their stories. When the two men share their stories they learn to care for the other and the one who lost his son learns to care for the other son and his family. When we share our stories we find common ground on which relationships are built and peace and reconciliation are possible.

In time I too will have more stories to share and as you hear them the people here in Ethiopia will come to life – hopefully J.

Peace

Silence in the New Year

Hi. Here is the devotion I gave in language class on Friday.

After great deliberation I have decided that the topic of silence is appropriate for today’s devotion. You see I like to listen but lately people keep telling me I need to speak – I just can’t seem to figure out why. You see the Bible is full of passages that talk about silence. We hear the story of Elijah and God’s voice being in the stillness and in the silence. In Isaiah 32:17 we learn that the fruit of righteousness will be peace; the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever. Later in the prophets I read “In repentance and rest is your salvation; in quietness and trust is your strength.” In 1 Timothy 2 Paul urges that we should lead peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness because this is good and pleases God our Savior. There are numerous other places that talk about and urge us to live quiet lives. So I am left asking, “why can’t I too be silent.”

In my nightly readings I came across a section of writing by Henri Nouwen that address the damage of noise. He writes….

Recently I was driving through Los Angeles, and suddenly I had the strange sensation of driving through a huge dictionary. Wherever I looked there were words trying to take my eyes from the road. They said, “Use me, take me, buy me, drink me, smell me, touch me, kiss me, sleep with me.” In such a world, who can maintain respect for words?

All this is to suggest that words, my own included, have lost their creative power. Their limitless multiplication has made us lose confidence in words caused us to think, more often than not, “They are just words.”

Teachers speak to students for six, twelve, eighteen, and sometimes twenty-four years. But the students often emerge from the experience with the feeling: “They were just words.” Preachers preach their sermons week after week and year after year. But their parishioners remain the same and often think: “They are just words.” Politicians, businessmen, ayatollahs, and popes give speeches and make statements “in season and out of season,” but those who listen say: “They are just words… just another distraction.”

The result of this is that the main function of the word, which is communication, is no longer realized. The word no longer communicates, no longer fosters communion, no longer creates community, and therefore no longer gives life. The word no longer offers trustworthy ground on which people can meet each other and build society.

Henri Nouwen The Way of The Heart

Silence is to be regarded as good and sacred or words become useless. But there is also a time to speak. Throughout the Old Testament the prophets are given words from God to speak. In Ezekiel we learn that it is the role of the watchman to cry out and that if the watchman does not come and disaster falls on the city he is to blame. Jesus spoke to the crowds. Paul wrote letters. Words can be good and communication is very helpful. Although I understand a great deal by watching hand gestures and facial expressions I miss much of the abstract when words are not used. I am a writer, after all, without words where would I be. When used correctly language is a positive powerful tool that allows for the quietness to be sacred.

In conclusion I guess I better start speaking.

Blessings in the New Year (we celebrate the coming of 2001 on Thursday September 11)

Peace and Communication

Today begins a new school year at Anderson University. For all my friends attending classes this fall I hope you have a good semester. I began my class for the fall just over two weeks ago. Though only one class it is one of the harder ones I have ever taken. Learning Amharic is not easy. I sit in class three hours a day and listen, trying to understand what the teacher is telling us by watching his body motion and the objects he is using. Yesterday we began to speak. Not only saying what an object is but using complete sentences to give commands and to answer questions. I must say my Amharic skills leave much to be desired, but I am learning. The more I listen and the more I try to talk the better I will become. I am finding that in order to learn I have to mess up time and time again. I do not like being wrong, I would much rather stay quiet but if I do I will not learn. Think of a small child learning to talk – for the first year or so they are very difficult to understand. I am that small child right now.

As I learn Amharic and spend my afternoons in cultural orientation I am thinking about peace. How do my actions right now work towards peace and conflict transformation? I find they do at the most basic level. Though peace can be achieved without speaking the same language, peace is not possible without communication and understanding. For these first six weeks I may not resolve any conflicts or transform others but I am working towards peace. As I learn the language and the culture of those I will live and work among I begin to respect and value them for who they are and when I see they too are part of God's creation I begin to work towards peace.

Remember the Traveler

Tomorrow we board the airplane that will begin our two day journey to Ethiopia. Today marked the end of training in Akron, PA. It has been a good week filled with information and the building of relationships. Last night we headed to the MCC material resource center to put our hands to work helping prepare kits that will be sent overseas perhaps to some of our locations. As I checked the school kits ans walked past the brightly colored comforters my steps quickened with anticipation for soon I would be on my way, soon I would be in Ethiopia.
Today that soon feels within grasp. I received my box of encouragement from friends and as I hold that box tears spring to my eyes. Tears that fall when I truely know I am loved beyond imagination, tears that express the excitement for tomorrow, tears the spill with nervous anticipation, tears that say I love you and miss you my friends. I am happy.
I leave tomorrow, I know that tomorrow many of you will be celebrating as two wonderful people begin their new life together. My prayers are with you. May it be a time of great joy and celebration.
As you celebrate remember the travelers. Remember our friends as they go on their honeymoon, as friends and family travel from all over to the wedding. Remember those of us who will board planes to fly to many different countries. Remember those who are physically stationary but whose lives are changing faster than they can process. Remember those who seem to be going nowhere fast. Remember, we are all travelers on a journey. All travelers who need to be reminded of who we are now, where we have been, and where we are going. Perhaps there was part of that this week as we were challenged to write our goals and preapre for our assignments. In the coming year we will be challenged to learn who we truly are as the familiarity we know will dissipate.
Remember the travelers may they find their ways safely home.

peace

We will go together

A few more hours and I leave Marion, Ohio and begin the drive to orientation. I am excited, nervous, and humbled. It is hard to believe this summer is over. It has passed swiftly despite my efforts to cherish each day. I am thankful for the amount of time I was able to spend with friends, family, and with God. I am learning to live life with no regrets and though I did not enjoy every moment of the summer I regret none - life is beautiful.
My mind scrolls like a new movie real, it knows what scenes must be played next but as the operator I am always wary of a skipped scene. But if I skip a scene will I really notice it has been skipped or will life go on despite the error. I think it is safe to say I have all the major themes in place the rest is extra added to enliven the plot.
I am packed and cautious that my bags are right at the fifty pound mark - I'm not sure how the light packer that I am managed to pack that much but I've never packed for a year before.
I am ready. Ready to hit the road finalize the goodbyes and fly into the distance.
I pray that I may continue to see God at work in each moment of my day that I may look back and say life is a beautiful gift from God and I have nothing to regret.
Goodbye my family. Goodbye my friends. Though miles may part may we travel together and may God go before.
Blessings on the journey.