Now the concept of being alone was always uncomfortable for me when I was young. Everyone wants to have lots of friends, so that they don’t have to experience those all alone times. Even the movies tell us we don’t want to be “Home Alone” or we should have at least one friend like “Tanto” if we are the “The Lone Ranger”. But what would it be like to be Custard on his last stand, or be the last of the Mohicans? What if you were on the “Last Crusade” or “the Last Man Standing”? How would you feel?
So in June when the last of my immediate family (besides those under 8 years old) left Ethiopia, the feelings of being alone crept over me. Living halfway around the world from everyone that I had grown up with had been doable, because I had always had one of my family still with me, but now it was just me (and 3 babies, and 2 youngsters). I shouldn’t complain, since one of our closest friends is visiting now, but it still runs through my mind that she will need to leave soon, too.
My mind has been selfishly centering on myself, pity being my dearest friend. Then God in His infinite wisdom shifted my emphasis off of me and onto a little street boy named Galata who was visiting my home. Now HE knew loneliness. His father had died a few years back and this year is mother followed. Distant relatives arrived bringing hope of family, but only sold the house and left him destitute. Luckily, one of his parents’ servants took him into their home, but soon could not afford his daily expenses. So at six years old, he was living on the streets of Gimbie.
His days were filled with begging for food, and dodging the bullies, who would steal what little he had to eat. He was used to middle class living, and now he was below poverty level. His clothes were so tattered, they were basically non-existent, and since baths were difficult to obtain, the smell from his body was atrocious. He watched the older boys playing foosball and table tennis, gambling away their precious coins. He just followed the other homeless kids, trying to “learn the ropes” of the street. The goats and sheep that wandered the road had happier days than he, romping and butting heads in the traffic.
Hearing that the Catholic Women’s Center had a feeding program, he couldn’t help but to try to find a stable source for his meals. Since his situation made him eligible for help, he was accepted into the program immediately. To have lunch guaranteed everyday was wonderful. His eyes darkened with circles brightened by the nutrition. His luck only got better as the people in charge of the program invited him to join a few of the poorest kids who were living in a modest three bedroom mud home out of town. These kids enjoyed all three meals a day, had their laundry washed, and slept on a mattress with a blanket. He was ecstatic. Had he died and gone to heaven??
He no longer felt lonely, sharing this home with six other street boys, two unwed mothers, and their two babies. Everyday after school he was invited to play with my children. It was so much fun to watch him just being a kid again. Then last week he was informed that an adoption agency felt that he and another four-year-old street boy were adoptable. To have a real family again seemed too good to be true. He could barely believe thE news. God had not forgotten him. Some of the other boys had been homeless all of their lives, and he was lucky to get a home. It was unreal!
So on Sunday, he took a shower, dressed in new clothes and got a motorcycle ride to the orphanage, which would be his temporary home until his papers cleared for adoption. To belong, to have family, to be loved…could this really be happening to him? A street boy? God must be good, He must care, He must be noticing.
So as I sit here feeling lonely, I remember his story. His loneliness will soon be resolved when a family is found for him. And in time, mine too will be healed when I am reunited with my family members. In Genesis, God said that man was not made to live alone, and I think that statement is true for me, and a little street boy named Galata.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Questions at Midnight
Where is God?
When a baby is left abandoned on the street, where is God? When earthquakes devastate whole city’s of people, where is God? When beautiful little girls or boys are molested before they have learned to walk, where is God? When talented, giving, young people die in random car accidents, where is God?
I sit up tonight after midnight asking myself these questions. Many of us, whether we are Agnostics, Atheists, or Christians have concluded that because of these injustices God must be too busy to help us, uncaring, or non-existent. I, too, have questioned God, I mean, isn’t He big enough to question? If He started this whole mess that we call our world shouldn’t we have the right to some answers from Him?
This is why I am asking…
A young man sits tonight in a dark room of his usually happy home asking these same questions. He has just been given the news that his wife of several years, the mother of his two beautiful children is HIV+. What is he supposed to do, now? We have no answers for him.
He had embraced his young wife years ago when her predicaments had thrown her into a life of prostitution. He had saved her and made her a respectable woman, and in return she had loved him with an unconditional love he had never known. Their life was like a fairy tale. Their children both still very young have brought them such joy. He has even enjoyed great success with his small business, giving them a modest, yet comfortable life. Yet now, all future plans seem clouded by this diagnosis. Oh, she could take the medications faithfully, but how many years would she still be able to help with the business and their family life. Despair has set in.
Another situation haunts me also. A little 6 year old is lonely tonight. Living in a home with seven other orphaned boys, he wonders why him. Why did his dad and mom have to die, leaving a home that distant relatives took, throwing him out on the streets. Yes, his parents’ housekeeper took him in for a while, but her meager salary could not support him, along with her family. So instead, he lived in the city, finding shelter some nights and a warm blanket from the police station, if there were enough. He thought that if he looked cute enough, sometimes he might find compassionate souls that would house him for a night or so, but other nights he was not so lucky.
And even though it looks grim for his future, he still wears a smile on his dirty little face, having less to smile about than the most of us. He doesn’t even have a hope of adoption, since many agencies view “street kids”, as not adoptable. Crushing news to such a small boy who misses the embrace of his mother’s arms, or his father’s pat on the back.
The stories of injustice are never ending. So why doesn’t God put an end to all of the suffering? I know the Bible says that God allows the rain to fall on the good, as well as the bad. I just had no idea how much rain would fall, and that so many of us would find ourselves without umbrellas.
But through all my questionings, the Bible seems to always remind me that God is love. I believe that all of the troubles that we go through hurt God, too, because He is such a loving God. He has given us free choice to do what we want on this earth, with unfortunate consequences of hurting others or ourselves in the process. Yet sometimes we experience hurt by no fault of our own, still God is there. He is the only one that seems to be able to take the worse situations and make them right again, or just give us peace during the trial. He sends people into our lives to support us, but sometimes He just wants us to turn JUST to Him.
So now that I have written my thoughts in black and white, and the clock says that it is almost 2am, I long to hear what others think about God’s intervention in their lives. Is He a good God, or a heartless dictator? Can He be trusted?
When a baby is left abandoned on the street, where is God? When earthquakes devastate whole city’s of people, where is God? When beautiful little girls or boys are molested before they have learned to walk, where is God? When talented, giving, young people die in random car accidents, where is God?
I sit up tonight after midnight asking myself these questions. Many of us, whether we are Agnostics, Atheists, or Christians have concluded that because of these injustices God must be too busy to help us, uncaring, or non-existent. I, too, have questioned God, I mean, isn’t He big enough to question? If He started this whole mess that we call our world shouldn’t we have the right to some answers from Him?
This is why I am asking…
A young man sits tonight in a dark room of his usually happy home asking these same questions. He has just been given the news that his wife of several years, the mother of his two beautiful children is HIV+. What is he supposed to do, now? We have no answers for him.
He had embraced his young wife years ago when her predicaments had thrown her into a life of prostitution. He had saved her and made her a respectable woman, and in return she had loved him with an unconditional love he had never known. Their life was like a fairy tale. Their children both still very young have brought them such joy. He has even enjoyed great success with his small business, giving them a modest, yet comfortable life. Yet now, all future plans seem clouded by this diagnosis. Oh, she could take the medications faithfully, but how many years would she still be able to help with the business and their family life. Despair has set in.
Another situation haunts me also. A little 6 year old is lonely tonight. Living in a home with seven other orphaned boys, he wonders why him. Why did his dad and mom have to die, leaving a home that distant relatives took, throwing him out on the streets. Yes, his parents’ housekeeper took him in for a while, but her meager salary could not support him, along with her family. So instead, he lived in the city, finding shelter some nights and a warm blanket from the police station, if there were enough. He thought that if he looked cute enough, sometimes he might find compassionate souls that would house him for a night or so, but other nights he was not so lucky.
And even though it looks grim for his future, he still wears a smile on his dirty little face, having less to smile about than the most of us. He doesn’t even have a hope of adoption, since many agencies view “street kids”, as not adoptable. Crushing news to such a small boy who misses the embrace of his mother’s arms, or his father’s pat on the back.
The stories of injustice are never ending. So why doesn’t God put an end to all of the suffering? I know the Bible says that God allows the rain to fall on the good, as well as the bad. I just had no idea how much rain would fall, and that so many of us would find ourselves without umbrellas.
But through all my questionings, the Bible seems to always remind me that God is love. I believe that all of the troubles that we go through hurt God, too, because He is such a loving God. He has given us free choice to do what we want on this earth, with unfortunate consequences of hurting others or ourselves in the process. Yet sometimes we experience hurt by no fault of our own, still God is there. He is the only one that seems to be able to take the worse situations and make them right again, or just give us peace during the trial. He sends people into our lives to support us, but sometimes He just wants us to turn JUST to Him.
So now that I have written my thoughts in black and white, and the clock says that it is almost 2am, I long to hear what others think about God’s intervention in their lives. Is He a good God, or a heartless dictator? Can He be trusted?
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
How this all started
In March 2006, my sister Cathy, niece Kandace, and great-niece Katrina were all killed in a car accident in New Mexico. This horrific event immediately cut our ties to our future plans and goals, leaving our family in search of a mission that would give us purpose again. Then AHI (Adventist Health International) contacted us, asking if we would be willing to serve at a 75 bed hospital in Gimbie, Ethiopia. We began saving, downsizing, and preparing for our "tour of duty", only to be financially crippled when my husband had a serious motorcycle accident which left him jobless for 7 months. Through generous support from our family, friends, and community, we were still able to raise enough money for plane tickets and expenses, and GO.
On October 3, 2008, our Ethiopian mission started to change our lives, forever. The first week was spent building a green house for Dr. Gemechu at the Learning Center just outside of Addis. After that we were transferred to Gimbie, and a journey that none of us expected unfolded. Instead of working on construction at the nursing school as expected, we were immediately thrown into the problems and struggles of the hospital. My husband was needed as head nurse, and he undertook the job, assigning us to positions to paint, clean, and organize where needed. The hospital was in dire need of TLC, so long hours and hard labor were necessary.
But soon the REAL issues started to surface. People were suffering. The needs of the people were so great and so complicated, we had to take time to somehow relieve their pain. Medicines, lab tests, and surgeries were needed for the poor patients. Mothers were dying, leaving orphans that needed care. Street boys were admitted to the hospital who had no home to be discharged to. Pregnant young girls were self-aborting, killing themselves along with their babies. Feet crippled by "podoconiosis" were searching for treatment. Women stigmatized by prolapses were deserted by their spouses. And those reaching puberty were feeling the first signs of a goiter, because of their lack of iodized salt.
How could we ignore these needs??????? This blog is to chronicle this journey we are traveling to relieve as much suffering as possible. Along the way, we hope to introduce you to the wonderful culture and people of Gimbie, so you can better understand our fellow brothers and sisters. I am sure you will fall in love with them as quickly as we did!
On October 3, 2008, our Ethiopian mission started to change our lives, forever. The first week was spent building a green house for Dr. Gemechu at the Learning Center just outside of Addis. After that we were transferred to Gimbie, and a journey that none of us expected unfolded. Instead of working on construction at the nursing school as expected, we were immediately thrown into the problems and struggles of the hospital. My husband was needed as head nurse, and he undertook the job, assigning us to positions to paint, clean, and organize where needed. The hospital was in dire need of TLC, so long hours and hard labor were necessary.
But soon the REAL issues started to surface. People were suffering. The needs of the people were so great and so complicated, we had to take time to somehow relieve their pain. Medicines, lab tests, and surgeries were needed for the poor patients. Mothers were dying, leaving orphans that needed care. Street boys were admitted to the hospital who had no home to be discharged to. Pregnant young girls were self-aborting, killing themselves along with their babies. Feet crippled by "podoconiosis" were searching for treatment. Women stigmatized by prolapses were deserted by their spouses. And those reaching puberty were feeling the first signs of a goiter, because of their lack of iodized salt.
How could we ignore these needs??????? This blog is to chronicle this journey we are traveling to relieve as much suffering as possible. Along the way, we hope to introduce you to the wonderful culture and people of Gimbie, so you can better understand our fellow brothers and sisters. I am sure you will fall in love with them as quickly as we did!
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