Coming Full Circle
During my time here it seems that every day a new story unfolds, which I guess is what is only natural as you share life with a group of people.
Last year around this time I remember going through a difficult time, I called my friend Angie who is and has always been a trusted friend and great support. Getting to her house she made some tea and we sat on her porch overlooking the street and talking about life. Everyone has their own story of life the joys and sorrows all mixed together. It seems we are all wishing for the wounds of the past to mend. Even in the mending it seems difficult to not look upon the scars and not to remember the pain you once felt. Sitting on her porch that day holding the warm mug in hand my eyes filled with tears. I cried for the things lost and the question if the pains of the past will ever go away, as I spoke out things that have laid silent in me for years. There is relief in the breaking of silence as if the sunlight is hitting blind eyes for the first time and I am still straining to see. Freedom is a funny thing it seems that you always remember the details of when it came and the people who walked with you through it. The thing I remember most is that as I spoke of my brokenness and anger I saw Angie’s eyes filled with tears and anger rise at the injustice. Comfort comes with the compassion of a friend sharing these moments with you, my hope is only that I can be this for someone on their road to freedom, a listening ear, open heart and a warm cup of tea as we sit and talk watching the fall come in.
Tonight my heart aches as I return to my room. This evening I went with my friend Karina and Ruthie (two American girls that are staying on the islands) into the village visiting some people. Evening in the village is always full of energy. Families sitting outside their homes preparing their dinners. Music fills the air as children play in the small alleys between houses.
Walking into the village we meet up with Susan who is a girl finishing her last year of primary school. She moved to Lingira to go to school, many of the other islands don’t have schools or function below standards having only one or two teachers to cover the range of seven years. Most of the teachers on the other islands have limited educations themselves making it difficult for them to reach the standards of education that the school should be running at.
Susan was able to come and stay on the island when she was offered housing from a friend of the family. She lives with two other girls in a small house. All of the girls in this house are left to fend for themselves, none of them have parents living on the island so banded together they try to overcome the struggles and care for the needs of one another. Wanting to spend some time with these girls this evening so Susan came with us as we went about on our visits.
I find myself sitting with a man who is sick in his final stages of AIDS. He loves music so we sat in his home singing with him. There is very little you can offer in these times music seems not enough and yet it is all we have to give, unable to fix this disease that is ravaging his body. Malaria is taking over and seems to be winning this fight I watch his mother care for him she states he is only taking liquids now, tomorrow we will go to the hospital.
Next we stop and sit in a small mud hut women who is also sick with AIDS and is too weak to work. We sit and talk over the soft glow of the lamp that offers little light to her room. The house looks like that of an abandon work shop, a storage room for odds and ends that you are sure will come in handy in the future. We sit and talk of her day to day life. She has been sick for some time thinking that death was knocking at her door. Unable to afford food or meds she laid in bed alone praying for God to be near. Provision comes by the care and feeding of those in the village and through the care of those around her she is better. The simplicity of this women’s life, and her gratitude astounds me that one can find gratitude in a bowl of rice and see it as a great provision, its hard not to find conviction in my ungratefulness.
Leaving her home we walk with Susan to her house under the dim lighting of flashlight I follow her. Arriving at Susan’s home we sit with her and Jackie. Jackie sits reading her studying her books though she has been chased from school unable to meet her school fees. Jackie greets us her eyes darting to the floor. Karina says she had wanted to come and visit. The girls had been attacked in her their home the night before. The man had come after Jackie. This was the second time this man had broke into their home and come after Jackie. For the second time she was able to fight him off this time only with the help of a women who had needed a place to stay and was sleeping in the other room. Hearing the commotion she came to Jackie’s aid. The man was taken to jail as Jackie filed a report, after all the forms had been filed then came the demanding of fees. Here it is the victims job to pay for the guards, food for the prisoner, and transportation to the mainland jail. Without these fees being paid the man would be released in the next day or two. Criminals like this seek vengeance for the shame that was brought upon their name, not only is their fear that this man will come and take what has been denied him twice but her life could be the great sacrifice for bringing on such suffering. Jackie sits beside me quietly. There has been no money for this girl to even eat, and now she would have to pay to feed the mouth of her attacker to ensure her safety. Here in her innocence she stood being chased from school, without food and a criminal will receive better treatment than the innocent. This is the injustice of a corrupt government. I cry out for justice.
Trying not cry I sit on beside her I hold it all in swallowing hard so trying to hold my voice steady.
That evening I remember sitting on Angie’s porch. My heart had been so filled with wounds of the past, justice that had never come and truly I had come to terms now that it never will but it was the wound on my soul that demanded vengeance. The next day Angie told me that she had thought of me all that night and as she was driving to work she was hit with this passage and didn’t remember the exact words. As she read it she felt it was for me, this is what it said….
The wilderness and the desert will be glad,
And the Arabah will rejoice and blossom;
Like the crocus it will blossom profusely
And rejoice with the rejoicing and shout of joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it
The majesty of our God.
Encourage the exhausted and strengthen the feeble.
Say to those with anxious heart, take courage, fear not.
Behold, your God will come with vengeance;
The recompense of God will come, But He will save you.
Then the eyes of the blind will be opened and the ears of the deaf will be unstopped.
Then the lame will leap like the deer, and the tongue of the mute will shout for joy.
For waters will break forth in the wilderness and streams in the Arabah.
The scorched land will become a pool and the thirsty ground springs of water;
In the haunt of jackals, its resting place,
Grass becomes reeds and rushes.
Sitting with Jackie that night I was remembered of the comfort this brought me. That my dry heart would rejoice again, that strength would come to my weary body and in that I could have courage. Vengeance may have not come in the form of what we as humans see is justice but God was just in that my heart would not be stolen to. For sure there has been springs of water in this dry land.
I pray not only for healing to come for Jackie but that true justice will prevail.
In talking to a friend from home I told her the story about this girl and how so many things would be relieved if she had a sponsor for school. It seems like Jackie might have found that sponsor. Jackie will be able to return to school in January and she and Susan both will be able to move to the student hostiles which are secure, all students there are provided with three meals a day. It seems that truly the wilderness and desserts will be glad.
This is merely a glimpse of the stories I hear daily. In that I am trying to find hope in that which is bigger than myself. Sometimes I find myself in wonder surely this people is not forgotten. I don’t think I will ever be able to solve the mysteries of life, why bad things happen to good people, why the criminal goes free while the victim suffers, or why with watchful eyes we watch those we love in pain but I don’t know if we were meant to understand such things. My hope is that through all of life’s journey that I will come to see that there is both joy and peace to be found.
During my time here it seems that every day a new story unfolds, which I guess is what is only natural as you share life with a group of people.
Last year around this time I remember going through a difficult time, I called my friend Angie who is and has always been a trusted friend and great support. Getting to her house she made some tea and we sat on her porch overlooking the street and talking about life. Everyone has their own story of life the joys and sorrows all mixed together. It seems we are all wishing for the wounds of the past to mend. Even in the mending it seems difficult to not look upon the scars and not to remember the pain you once felt. Sitting on her porch that day holding the warm mug in hand my eyes filled with tears. I cried for the things lost and the question if the pains of the past will ever go away, as I spoke out things that have laid silent in me for years. There is relief in the breaking of silence as if the sunlight is hitting blind eyes for the first time and I am still straining to see. Freedom is a funny thing it seems that you always remember the details of when it came and the people who walked with you through it. The thing I remember most is that as I spoke of my brokenness and anger I saw Angie’s eyes filled with tears and anger rise at the injustice. Comfort comes with the compassion of a friend sharing these moments with you, my hope is only that I can be this for someone on their road to freedom, a listening ear, open heart and a warm cup of tea as we sit and talk watching the fall come in.
Tonight my heart aches as I return to my room. This evening I went with my friend Karina and Ruthie (two American girls that are staying on the islands) into the village visiting some people. Evening in the village is always full of energy. Families sitting outside their homes preparing their dinners. Music fills the air as children play in the small alleys between houses.
Walking into the village we meet up with Susan who is a girl finishing her last year of primary school. She moved to Lingira to go to school, many of the other islands don’t have schools or function below standards having only one or two teachers to cover the range of seven years. Most of the teachers on the other islands have limited educations themselves making it difficult for them to reach the standards of education that the school should be running at.
Susan was able to come and stay on the island when she was offered housing from a friend of the family. She lives with two other girls in a small house. All of the girls in this house are left to fend for themselves, none of them have parents living on the island so banded together they try to overcome the struggles and care for the needs of one another. Wanting to spend some time with these girls this evening so Susan came with us as we went about on our visits.
I find myself sitting with a man who is sick in his final stages of AIDS. He loves music so we sat in his home singing with him. There is very little you can offer in these times music seems not enough and yet it is all we have to give, unable to fix this disease that is ravaging his body. Malaria is taking over and seems to be winning this fight I watch his mother care for him she states he is only taking liquids now, tomorrow we will go to the hospital.
Next we stop and sit in a small mud hut women who is also sick with AIDS and is too weak to work. We sit and talk over the soft glow of the lamp that offers little light to her room. The house looks like that of an abandon work shop, a storage room for odds and ends that you are sure will come in handy in the future. We sit and talk of her day to day life. She has been sick for some time thinking that death was knocking at her door. Unable to afford food or meds she laid in bed alone praying for God to be near. Provision comes by the care and feeding of those in the village and through the care of those around her she is better. The simplicity of this women’s life, and her gratitude astounds me that one can find gratitude in a bowl of rice and see it as a great provision, its hard not to find conviction in my ungratefulness.
Leaving her home we walk with Susan to her house under the dim lighting of flashlight I follow her. Arriving at Susan’s home we sit with her and Jackie. Jackie sits reading her studying her books though she has been chased from school unable to meet her school fees. Jackie greets us her eyes darting to the floor. Karina says she had wanted to come and visit. The girls had been attacked in her their home the night before. The man had come after Jackie. This was the second time this man had broke into their home and come after Jackie. For the second time she was able to fight him off this time only with the help of a women who had needed a place to stay and was sleeping in the other room. Hearing the commotion she came to Jackie’s aid. The man was taken to jail as Jackie filed a report, after all the forms had been filed then came the demanding of fees. Here it is the victims job to pay for the guards, food for the prisoner, and transportation to the mainland jail. Without these fees being paid the man would be released in the next day or two. Criminals like this seek vengeance for the shame that was brought upon their name, not only is their fear that this man will come and take what has been denied him twice but her life could be the great sacrifice for bringing on such suffering. Jackie sits beside me quietly. There has been no money for this girl to even eat, and now she would have to pay to feed the mouth of her attacker to ensure her safety. Here in her innocence she stood being chased from school, without food and a criminal will receive better treatment than the innocent. This is the injustice of a corrupt government. I cry out for justice.
Trying not cry I sit on beside her I hold it all in swallowing hard so trying to hold my voice steady.
That evening I remember sitting on Angie’s porch. My heart had been so filled with wounds of the past, justice that had never come and truly I had come to terms now that it never will but it was the wound on my soul that demanded vengeance. The next day Angie told me that she had thought of me all that night and as she was driving to work she was hit with this passage and didn’t remember the exact words. As she read it she felt it was for me, this is what it said….
The wilderness and the desert will be glad,
And the Arabah will rejoice and blossom;
Like the crocus it will blossom profusely
And rejoice with the rejoicing and shout of joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it
The majesty of our God.
Encourage the exhausted and strengthen the feeble.
Say to those with anxious heart, take courage, fear not.
Behold, your God will come with vengeance;
The recompense of God will come, But He will save you.
Then the eyes of the blind will be opened and the ears of the deaf will be unstopped.
Then the lame will leap like the deer, and the tongue of the mute will shout for joy.
For waters will break forth in the wilderness and streams in the Arabah.
The scorched land will become a pool and the thirsty ground springs of water;
In the haunt of jackals, its resting place,
Grass becomes reeds and rushes.
Sitting with Jackie that night I was remembered of the comfort this brought me. That my dry heart would rejoice again, that strength would come to my weary body and in that I could have courage. Vengeance may have not come in the form of what we as humans see is justice but God was just in that my heart would not be stolen to. For sure there has been springs of water in this dry land.
I pray not only for healing to come for Jackie but that true justice will prevail.
In talking to a friend from home I told her the story about this girl and how so many things would be relieved if she had a sponsor for school. It seems like Jackie might have found that sponsor. Jackie will be able to return to school in January and she and Susan both will be able to move to the student hostiles which are secure, all students there are provided with three meals a day. It seems that truly the wilderness and desserts will be glad.
This is merely a glimpse of the stories I hear daily. In that I am trying to find hope in that which is bigger than myself. Sometimes I find myself in wonder surely this people is not forgotten. I don’t think I will ever be able to solve the mysteries of life, why bad things happen to good people, why the criminal goes free while the victim suffers, or why with watchful eyes we watch those we love in pain but I don’t know if we were meant to understand such things. My hope is that through all of life’s journey that I will come to see that there is both joy and peace to be found.
posted by Jessica at 9:21 AM
2 Comments:
Jess, you don't even sound like yourself. Sad to say, because we are such a "rich" nation, but we can't fix everybody in the world. We can't even fix ourselves. We have plenty of sick, starving, suffering people, and more injustice than you'd imagine right here in the U.S. You can't go to another culture and clean up their problems. That's what we're seeing big-time in Iraq, and it's been the case in Africa for many, many years. A few good people cannot fix entrenched customs which they perceive to be evil. Only the people who actually live there and will stay there can do this. You and the organization you are part of have good intentions, but are foreigners. You will go home. And, when you leave, the powers-that-be who profit from keeping people oppressed will keep right on doing it. Negative??? Definitely. But, I believe world history bears me out.
I care about you and wish you would come home before something happens to you. (Like with that nut case who is terrorizing a friend of yours.) If you think you dealt with something extreme here at home when you were younger, you probably will melt down if anything happens to you over there where there's absolutely no recourse whatsoever.
One other thing -- money rules the world. Is this a surprise to you? It's never been to me. The adage says "money doesn't buy everything" but it often buys what you desperately need. a.l.a., bribe money, lawyers, food, transportation, whatever.
I know this is tremendously un-PC, but it's not meant to upset you -- just make you think.
Louann
this may be a proverbial story but here goes nothin'... there was an old man that was walking along the shore of a beach and noticed a young boy that was picking up dying starfish and throwing them back into the ocean. however he also saw that there were 1000's of starfish all along the sand. he went over to the boy and told him that there was unfortunately no way that he was not going be able to make much of a difference to all the starfish stranded on the shore. The little boy just looked back at the man and replied with a grin "well i made a difference to that one, and this one, and this one."
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