Every time I think I am nearing the end of my Stories from Uganda I find that I have more to say. Imagine that! Then I begin to wonder whatever will I write about ever again?!? Now there's a real quandary. Something tells me I'll figure that out....
I still need to write about the day we went back to the prison and pulled teeth for half a day. I mean, how many people can stand up in a room and say " I once worked with a team that spent a day at a Ugandan prison pulling teeth"? There's a real conversation starter.....
But the thing that keeps circling around in my mind is the meaning of poverty. I mean this seems self explanatory, right? We all know what poverty is, what it looks like. However, the thought that I can't escape is that our definition is so very one dimensional. When we think of poverty we think of the lack of material things. And this is certainly one kind of poverty. But there is another kind of poverty as well. There is poverty of the spirit. In Africa we were confronted with both types of poverty. One was the absolute reality day in and day out of our Ugandan friends. The other type of poverty is primarily the domain of those of us from this country and the rest of what we call the western, modern, affluent world. And that is spiritual poverty.
The problem of material poverty is certainly devastating. It is inescapable in Uganda outside of a few affluent neighborhoods in Kampala where the president and some other high placed government officials live. Everywhere you turn there is want and lack. Lack of decent roads. Lack of sewage and waste disposal. Lack of running water. Lack of reliable electricity. Lack of food. Lack of clothing, shelter, medical accessibility. Everything is dirty, broken down, crowded, inadequate by our western standards. And this is the way 95% of the world lives. Think about that for a minute. Only 5% of the world lives as we do. The rest lives like the people of Uganda. Unfathomable.....
Yet, in spite of this, the people we met were spiritually wealthy. Uganda is a majority Christian nation, just as the US is (for the moment anyway). And those we lived among in Uganda were all Christians. But they differed from us in that they were overflowing with the Fruits of The Spirit. Galatians 5:22 describes these fruits or gifts of The Spirit as being "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, and self control". This is by and large what we experienced from being around our African friends. They possessed all of these gifts in abundance. I read this quote recently which explains it really well. "In a place where people have absolutely nothing, God becomes everything.". This is largely born out by statistics and world wide religious trends as well. In the developing world, Christianity is exploding, while here and in affluent western Europe it is atrophying and losing its relevance and influence within society. I would say that in reference to the quote above that the reverse is also true. In a place where people have everything, God becomes essentially nothing. This is a generalization of course, and there are always exceptions, but by and large, overall, what I see in America is people of anemic faith. We are the " lukewarm" that Jesus refers to in Revelation. We are the consumers of Bonhoffer's " cheap grace". We want all of The Grace of God without any of The Cross of His Son. We are this way about everything. Not only our faith, but everything else in life here in the land of the free and the home of the brave. We want all the benefits of.....( fill in the blank), but nobody wants to pay for it, or sacrifice for it. We are largely spiritually bankrupt in so many ways. Materially rich, spiritually impoverished. If this sounds negative, well that's just the way I see it. To quote my favorite Jane Austen character, Elizabeth Bennett- "I must speak as I find". Lizzy was often busted for her "pert opinions" and I suspect I will be as well. And like Lizzy, I probably won't back down either.....
The good news is that it's not hopeless. Confronting a difficult and painful reality enables you to begin taking steps to alter it. What I have come to realize is the poverty has devastating effects on the spirit. Whether its the material kind or the spiritual kind. And the solution is to become awakened in Christ. This is what solves both of these problems. Because once we are alive in Him we won't settle for the status quo. We will refuse to live in a world where 95% of our brothers and sisters want for the most basic necessities of life. This will no longer be okay with us. We will begin to look at the world thru the eyes of God instead of our own- and His vision is always 20/20. As He begins to occupy more and more of our hearts, the Fruits of the Spirit will begin to spill over into every aspect of our lives, which is surely a good thing for each of us and the greater world around us. It really is true that what the world needs now is love sweet love. I would add this caveat- what the world needs now is Divine Love sweet love, for this is the only thing that enables us to truly love our neighbors as ourselves. This is the remedy for both kinds of poverty...... Shalom!
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Comprehending the Incomprehensible
One of the interesting things about having the Kenyans and Ugandans encamped with us was the many opportunities for fellowship and getting to know each other. We pretty much ate, slept, worked with, worshipped with, these young people and their leaders for the entire week. And we talked. A lot. Mostly about our lives in our respective countries. We learned about their lives in Kenya and Uganda. They learned about our lives in the US. For both groups, a sense of the surreal was certainly apparent in conversation after conversation.
For example, I remember talking to a couple of the men from Kenya about how Americans feel about animals. Dogs and cats specifically. In Africa cats are only for eating rodents and dogs are kept just for protection. And neither are ever allowed in the house. Which strikes me as kind of funny since they can't track dirt into a house that already has a dirt floor.....? I thought of my completely pampered, spoiled 4 legged children at home. My golden retriever who wouldn't be caught dead outside unless someone was throwing a tennis ball for her and my cats who lounge the day away nestled in down comforters on our beds. They are certainly a far cry from the scrawny, starving canines and felines I saw over there. The conversation took a really bizarre turn as I tried, one evening, to describe a Pets'mart store to them:
"A store - just for dogs and cats?"
"Well, yes, primarily".
"And what do they sell?"
"Oh- lots of stuff. Special food. Clothing. Beds. Toys. Health aides. Fancy cat condos and dog houses. Special treats, and that's just a few of the things..."
"Dogs need clothing?".
"Uh, yes, apparently in our overly affluent, consumer driven society, a dog 'needs' clothes. Or at least Madison Avenue has managed to convince us that they do!"
"What is Madison Avenue?"
"Well, that would be people who make obscene amounts of money in advertising which is what drives consumers in the US to buy ridiculous things that they don't need. Like sweaters and rain boots for dogs, and miracle creams for wrinkles"
It sounded amazingly stupid even as I heard myself say it. But no more stupid than the fact that I wasn't making this stuff up, which if you could have seen John's and Simon's faces you would have been able to tell they thought I was pulling their legs! I assured them that Pets'marts are in virtually every city of any size in the US. All they could do was shake their heads and cluck their tongues.....
Another one of our campfire discussions centered around the question " What do you dream of?". One of the leaders of the Kenyan youths, a young married man named Reuben with a family volunteered that his dream is that one day he would not have to wake up and have his first thought be "How am I going to feed my family today?". To him, the best thing imaginable would be not to worry that his children would go to bed hungry that night. Seriously- when is the last time you heard anyone, ANYONE in your circle of friends and acquaintances express a similar dream for their life? What do we typically hear people in this country say they dream of? Winning the lottery maybe? Losing 30 pounds? Taking a long vacation to Europe? Owning a beach house? Being able to be rid of a spouse they can't stand? These are a few I have heard expressed by various people I know. I think about this a lot now. About how simple the dreams are for those living in poverty. A house with a floor that doesn't turn to mud during the rainy season. Enough food to feed the family. To be able to send the children to school. To be able to see a doctor or dentist when needed. Such simple, basic, reasonable things. It doesn't seem like too much to ask does it?
Or how about this one? Simon walks with a peg leg limp on one side. He can't bend one of his knees properly to allow him to walk with a normal gait. I noticed a very large scar across his knee. I knew that he had been in a pretty serious work related accident. Judging from the scar, I thought he had probably had open knee surgery for a blown out ACL ligament. As we were walking down a dusty road one day on our way to the work site I asked him about his surgery. He said he had surgery for a torn meniscus. Really? I asked again. Not a ruptured ACL? No- he reiterated again- it was a torn meniscus. This is a surgery we do in my work center hundreds of times each year. It is an outpatient procedure. 2 tiny little incisions, done in less than an hour, recovered and home about an hour later. Simon spent a long time in the hospital. He had to learn how to walk again. He was in his 40's when he had the accident. I just can't imagine this. Permanent disability from a minor knee injury. In this country this would never have happened, and if it had, he would have had treatment to fix the damage or been awarded a lot of money in a malpractice suit if that wasn't possible. TIA, however, and Simon just painstakingly limps his way wherever he goes. Without complaining, I might add. Just happy he can walk at all......
One more story of the incomprehensible. This one was told to me by one of the SLAM girls. One of the families I have previously written about, George and Margaret, once had 5 children. Their 2 oldest now live and work in Kampala. There are two boys still at home, Moses and Enoch. Moses is 15 yrs old, and Enoch is 11 or 12. There was one younger child- a 9 yr old boy named Joseph- until he died last summer. Joseph got sick with a cold virus and was taken to a clinic. It was determined that he was anemic (probably a suppressed immune response to the "cold"). He was given a blood transfusion. It was the wrong blood type and he died. Imagine. Your child develops a cold. You take him to a clinic. You are released with his body. This is Africa........
So yes- there is a great cultural divide. On one side there are people who dream of feeding their families, and medical treatments that don't kill their children or permanently damage their bodies, and just being able to struggle a wee bit less. And on the other, there are people from a country with unimaginable wealth who spend more money on their pets in a year than it would take to send a half dozen Ugandan kids to school. Who own enormous houses but desire a second one in a vacation area. Who complain bitterly every time the cost of gas goes up a few pennies, or the unemployment rate nudges up a fraction. It is very difficult to comprehend the concerns and desires of both of these groups, is it not? Hang in there with me. Try comprehending the incomprehensible. Think about it. That's all I ask. More importantly, I think it is what God asks of us......Shalom!
For example, I remember talking to a couple of the men from Kenya about how Americans feel about animals. Dogs and cats specifically. In Africa cats are only for eating rodents and dogs are kept just for protection. And neither are ever allowed in the house. Which strikes me as kind of funny since they can't track dirt into a house that already has a dirt floor.....? I thought of my completely pampered, spoiled 4 legged children at home. My golden retriever who wouldn't be caught dead outside unless someone was throwing a tennis ball for her and my cats who lounge the day away nestled in down comforters on our beds. They are certainly a far cry from the scrawny, starving canines and felines I saw over there. The conversation took a really bizarre turn as I tried, one evening, to describe a Pets'mart store to them:
"A store - just for dogs and cats?"
"Well, yes, primarily".
"And what do they sell?"
"Oh- lots of stuff. Special food. Clothing. Beds. Toys. Health aides. Fancy cat condos and dog houses. Special treats, and that's just a few of the things..."
"Dogs need clothing?".
"Uh, yes, apparently in our overly affluent, consumer driven society, a dog 'needs' clothes. Or at least Madison Avenue has managed to convince us that they do!"
"What is Madison Avenue?"
"Well, that would be people who make obscene amounts of money in advertising which is what drives consumers in the US to buy ridiculous things that they don't need. Like sweaters and rain boots for dogs, and miracle creams for wrinkles"
It sounded amazingly stupid even as I heard myself say it. But no more stupid than the fact that I wasn't making this stuff up, which if you could have seen John's and Simon's faces you would have been able to tell they thought I was pulling their legs! I assured them that Pets'marts are in virtually every city of any size in the US. All they could do was shake their heads and cluck their tongues.....
Another one of our campfire discussions centered around the question " What do you dream of?". One of the leaders of the Kenyan youths, a young married man named Reuben with a family volunteered that his dream is that one day he would not have to wake up and have his first thought be "How am I going to feed my family today?". To him, the best thing imaginable would be not to worry that his children would go to bed hungry that night. Seriously- when is the last time you heard anyone, ANYONE in your circle of friends and acquaintances express a similar dream for their life? What do we typically hear people in this country say they dream of? Winning the lottery maybe? Losing 30 pounds? Taking a long vacation to Europe? Owning a beach house? Being able to be rid of a spouse they can't stand? These are a few I have heard expressed by various people I know. I think about this a lot now. About how simple the dreams are for those living in poverty. A house with a floor that doesn't turn to mud during the rainy season. Enough food to feed the family. To be able to send the children to school. To be able to see a doctor or dentist when needed. Such simple, basic, reasonable things. It doesn't seem like too much to ask does it?
Or how about this one? Simon walks with a peg leg limp on one side. He can't bend one of his knees properly to allow him to walk with a normal gait. I noticed a very large scar across his knee. I knew that he had been in a pretty serious work related accident. Judging from the scar, I thought he had probably had open knee surgery for a blown out ACL ligament. As we were walking down a dusty road one day on our way to the work site I asked him about his surgery. He said he had surgery for a torn meniscus. Really? I asked again. Not a ruptured ACL? No- he reiterated again- it was a torn meniscus. This is a surgery we do in my work center hundreds of times each year. It is an outpatient procedure. 2 tiny little incisions, done in less than an hour, recovered and home about an hour later. Simon spent a long time in the hospital. He had to learn how to walk again. He was in his 40's when he had the accident. I just can't imagine this. Permanent disability from a minor knee injury. In this country this would never have happened, and if it had, he would have had treatment to fix the damage or been awarded a lot of money in a malpractice suit if that wasn't possible. TIA, however, and Simon just painstakingly limps his way wherever he goes. Without complaining, I might add. Just happy he can walk at all......
One more story of the incomprehensible. This one was told to me by one of the SLAM girls. One of the families I have previously written about, George and Margaret, once had 5 children. Their 2 oldest now live and work in Kampala. There are two boys still at home, Moses and Enoch. Moses is 15 yrs old, and Enoch is 11 or 12. There was one younger child- a 9 yr old boy named Joseph- until he died last summer. Joseph got sick with a cold virus and was taken to a clinic. It was determined that he was anemic (probably a suppressed immune response to the "cold"). He was given a blood transfusion. It was the wrong blood type and he died. Imagine. Your child develops a cold. You take him to a clinic. You are released with his body. This is Africa........
So yes- there is a great cultural divide. On one side there are people who dream of feeding their families, and medical treatments that don't kill their children or permanently damage their bodies, and just being able to struggle a wee bit less. And on the other, there are people from a country with unimaginable wealth who spend more money on their pets in a year than it would take to send a half dozen Ugandan kids to school. Who own enormous houses but desire a second one in a vacation area. Who complain bitterly every time the cost of gas goes up a few pennies, or the unemployment rate nudges up a fraction. It is very difficult to comprehend the concerns and desires of both of these groups, is it not? Hang in there with me. Try comprehending the incomprehensible. Think about it. That's all I ask. More importantly, I think it is what God asks of us......Shalom!
Sunday, August 7, 2011
At Play in the Kingdom
I have a thousand other things to do. I really do. Stuff is piling up. Deadlines have passed (I have missed a few!) I should be working on the CEU's I need to earn to complete my nursing licence renewal by the end of this month. Instead all I do is write. And write. And write. I can't seem to stop writing about Africa and all the lessons I learned there. All the soul changing, life altering, conclusion bending, paradigm shifting lessons I learned as a result of less than 2 weeks spent living among "the least of these".
Near the end of our stay in Bombo, we hosted a carnival of sorts out in an open field between several elementary schools. By this time, the kids were used to us showing up around 4:30 pm to play games with them every day. Literally hundreds of kids would come after school to play with us. In a place where there is little entertainment and daily life involves a constant struggle just to survive, any diversion is a welcome one. 23 "Mzungus" wandering around your village qualifies! So the children came. With huge smiles. With shy expressions. With their hands extended to take ours. Some, to run away if we got too close to them. But mostly they came with the curiosity of children. Often when we would walk thru the village as we did every day, the children would run to the edge of the road and stand there staring at us. Some were eager, bright, smiling and waving. Others were tentative and uncertain. But what I found was that when I made eye contact with them and smiled and greeted them in Luganda, "Oli otya?" (how are you?), they immediately broke into huge smiles and would yell back "Gendi!" Which means "I'm fine!". All apprehension seemed to vanish with a smile and a greeting. These children were eager to engage with us.
So we had packed many, many bags with things for this carnival. We had bubbles and face paint. Nail polish and soccer balls. Frisbees and jump ropes. Silly bracelets and craft projects. One thing we hadn't banked on was that all the kids would have shaved heads. Even the girls. So all the hair bows and clips and ornaments weren't gonna work. We didn't see that one coming! As we tried to set up areas where we could begin each activity it was clear that we were out of our league here. This was the only time I saw kids really behaving like kids the whole time we were there. They were always so orderly. But imagine what would happened in your neighborhood if a team of folks showed up and stood in the streets giving away Ipads to every kid who walked by. Bingo! Now you understand what the carnival was like! This is a place where toys don't exist. I never saw a child playing with anything but another child or some sticks or rocks the whole time we were there. And the kids are out and about en mass. They are everywhere. Its not like at home where you drive thru a neighborhood and never see a soul. In Bombo the streets were teeming with people all the time. And most of those people were children! So to show up with actual toys and be able to distribute them produced ...well.....chaos!
I decided that I would paint fingernails. What I figured was some of the little girls would want to do this. I had a couple of helpers. Soon I was surrounded by hundreds of little black hands thrust forward into my lap as I patiently painted one at a time. As many boys came forward to have their nails painted as girls, which threw me! And the other thing that they just could not comprehend was that you had to let the polish dry. So I had lots of repeat customers. Some kids had so many "do overs" that their fingernails were multiple colors and in various stages of wiped off or nearly wiped off. Note to self: painting nails is not something that translates easily across cultures!
But more than the actual nail painting or the toys or the games what I realized is that the thing these kids needed and wanted the most was just some contact, some attention, some notice from us. Families are large in Africa. Life is impossibly hard. It is a daily struggle to feed your children and pay their school fees. Parents work from sun up to well past sun down. Every task requires enormous effort. Hauling water. Setting a fire to cook over. Picking the food or finding a way to purchase it at the market. Preparing the food. Washing the dishes. Washing laundry by hand. Hanging it out to dry. Cleaning the house. Working in the garden. Walking everywhere. Nursing the babies. The sheer weight of the tasks that must be done daily to survive doesn't leave a parent much time to devote to just being with their children. They are deeply loved. They just don't receive the kind of attention kids get here because the entire fabric of family life collectively is devoted to survival. I sensed this need to be noticed and recognized from the children. Sometimes a child would just walk into the street and take my hand. They would just walk with us for a time. Some of the older children wanted to practice their English. The younger ones seemed to just want to have some contact with us. Sometimes they would follow us all the way to our encampment hoping for food. The saddest thing of all for some of the teens on our team was the realization that these children go hungry every day while we throw away enough food to feed their entire family. That is a fairly sobering reality for a 15 yr old to face......
So when it is all said and done, one of my fondest memories of Africa will be the beauty of the people there- especially the children. Their curiosity. Their eager smiles. Their bright little faces. The hopeful expressions they wore. These were materially very poor children. But their spirits were vibrant. Alive. They all have hopes and dreams. To look into the face of such a child is to see Christ. There is such truth to what He said "As you do unto the least of these, you do unto me". These beautiful children stole my heart. I hope they now have stolen a piece of yours as well.....Shalom!
Near the end of our stay in Bombo, we hosted a carnival of sorts out in an open field between several elementary schools. By this time, the kids were used to us showing up around 4:30 pm to play games with them every day. Literally hundreds of kids would come after school to play with us. In a place where there is little entertainment and daily life involves a constant struggle just to survive, any diversion is a welcome one. 23 "Mzungus" wandering around your village qualifies! So the children came. With huge smiles. With shy expressions. With their hands extended to take ours. Some, to run away if we got too close to them. But mostly they came with the curiosity of children. Often when we would walk thru the village as we did every day, the children would run to the edge of the road and stand there staring at us. Some were eager, bright, smiling and waving. Others were tentative and uncertain. But what I found was that when I made eye contact with them and smiled and greeted them in Luganda, "Oli otya?" (how are you?), they immediately broke into huge smiles and would yell back "Gendi!" Which means "I'm fine!". All apprehension seemed to vanish with a smile and a greeting. These children were eager to engage with us.
So we had packed many, many bags with things for this carnival. We had bubbles and face paint. Nail polish and soccer balls. Frisbees and jump ropes. Silly bracelets and craft projects. One thing we hadn't banked on was that all the kids would have shaved heads. Even the girls. So all the hair bows and clips and ornaments weren't gonna work. We didn't see that one coming! As we tried to set up areas where we could begin each activity it was clear that we were out of our league here. This was the only time I saw kids really behaving like kids the whole time we were there. They were always so orderly. But imagine what would happened in your neighborhood if a team of folks showed up and stood in the streets giving away Ipads to every kid who walked by. Bingo! Now you understand what the carnival was like! This is a place where toys don't exist. I never saw a child playing with anything but another child or some sticks or rocks the whole time we were there. And the kids are out and about en mass. They are everywhere. Its not like at home where you drive thru a neighborhood and never see a soul. In Bombo the streets were teeming with people all the time. And most of those people were children! So to show up with actual toys and be able to distribute them produced ...well.....chaos!
I decided that I would paint fingernails. What I figured was some of the little girls would want to do this. I had a couple of helpers. Soon I was surrounded by hundreds of little black hands thrust forward into my lap as I patiently painted one at a time. As many boys came forward to have their nails painted as girls, which threw me! And the other thing that they just could not comprehend was that you had to let the polish dry. So I had lots of repeat customers. Some kids had so many "do overs" that their fingernails were multiple colors and in various stages of wiped off or nearly wiped off. Note to self: painting nails is not something that translates easily across cultures!
But more than the actual nail painting or the toys or the games what I realized is that the thing these kids needed and wanted the most was just some contact, some attention, some notice from us. Families are large in Africa. Life is impossibly hard. It is a daily struggle to feed your children and pay their school fees. Parents work from sun up to well past sun down. Every task requires enormous effort. Hauling water. Setting a fire to cook over. Picking the food or finding a way to purchase it at the market. Preparing the food. Washing the dishes. Washing laundry by hand. Hanging it out to dry. Cleaning the house. Working in the garden. Walking everywhere. Nursing the babies. The sheer weight of the tasks that must be done daily to survive doesn't leave a parent much time to devote to just being with their children. They are deeply loved. They just don't receive the kind of attention kids get here because the entire fabric of family life collectively is devoted to survival. I sensed this need to be noticed and recognized from the children. Sometimes a child would just walk into the street and take my hand. They would just walk with us for a time. Some of the older children wanted to practice their English. The younger ones seemed to just want to have some contact with us. Sometimes they would follow us all the way to our encampment hoping for food. The saddest thing of all for some of the teens on our team was the realization that these children go hungry every day while we throw away enough food to feed their entire family. That is a fairly sobering reality for a 15 yr old to face......
So when it is all said and done, one of my fondest memories of Africa will be the beauty of the people there- especially the children. Their curiosity. Their eager smiles. Their bright little faces. The hopeful expressions they wore. These were materially very poor children. But their spirits were vibrant. Alive. They all have hopes and dreams. To look into the face of such a child is to see Christ. There is such truth to what He said "As you do unto the least of these, you do unto me". These beautiful children stole my heart. I hope they now have stolen a piece of yours as well.....Shalom!
Saturday, August 6, 2011
And the First Shall Be Last......
I was telling one of my friends recently that one of the things that happened to me during my time in Uganda was that certain passages of scripture suddenly became so real, so utterly clear to me. It's like you can hear the same things over and over again to the point that they lose meaning for you. At my church recently, The Lord's Prayer was removed from our order of worship. Instead, week by week, our pastors have been deconstructing the prayer line by line and preaching about the meaning of each one. Soon, the prayer will be added back into our worship services and I hope that it will have new meaning for each of us as we recite it together.
This same effect in essence occurred within me on this trip. I understood- REALLY understood for the first time, certain key passages of scripture and what they mean as a result of being immersed in a different sort of world. I now have a much deeper understanding of wealth. Also, what it means to be poor. Why Jesus had so much to say about the haves and the have nots. And I have a new found sense of conviction of just how very difficult it is to possess material wealth and not be a slave to two masters.
I was reading a book last year about this time by one of my favorite Christian writers, Francis Chan. If you read my blog often, you have seen this name before. Chan is a young, charismatic pastor from the west coast who has written several best sellers. People have labeled him an evangelical, which I don't like because that has lots of negative connotations in our society. What I do like about Chan is his gentle spirit. The fact that he shares openly his own struggles of faith. The way that he has so much difficulty with " the Church" and organized religion as a whole. Yep- he's my kind of guy. One of the things Chan writes about is how drawn he feels to the Third World. But not because he feels the need to go " fix" everything that is wrong there- rather, he is drawn to this world because of the vibrant faith of the people. He writes about the difference between how people feel and act toward God in places like Uganda versus here in this country. When you read his description of this, you can sense how heavy his heart is with how pale and anemic he finds the love of his fellow Americans to be for the God that they profess faith in. I thought about this when I read it and remembered back to my previous trips to Mexico. The simple, heartfelt expressions of worship I had seen there. The complete dependency on God which marked their daily existence. I could relate to what Chan was writing about.
Even with this previous experience to draw upon, I was still unprepared for how hard some lessons would hit home as a result of my time in Africa. The story of The Rich Young Ruler (Matthew Ch 19) became so alive, so meaningful to me on so many levels. We have all heard this story over and over. It contains the famous "camel fitting through the eye of the needle" passage. We had studied this passage in my Bible Study class not long before my trip. What I knew about this story was that it was the rich young ruler's attachment to his wealth that Jesus was able to see. He was able to see that this attachment was a barrier within him to a more meaningful relationship with the Father, which is why in love, Jesus asks him to forsake his wealth in this world for greater riches in the next by giving it all away and following Him. And we know the outcome- the rich young ruler walks away sad. As I lived and worked in Uganda and was surrounded by the difficulties of just daily existence in such a place I began to question myself "what if Jesus called me to give up my home, my family, my clean prosperous life (complete with actual plumbing!) and pack it all up and move here to serve Him. Could I do that?". I thought about the SLAM people who were doing that very thing. I admire them deeply for their commitment to their faith, the way they will live that out as they plant themselves in this community and live side by side with the Ugandan people sharing in their poverty. Could I do such a thing? In all honesty, I think that like the rich young ruler I would walk away sad too. For the first time ever, I felt sympathy for him and his dilemma. And the sobering look I had to take at myself has lead me to understand that I am not nearly as good a person, nor disciple of Christ as I thought myself to be. So there's that to chew on. Still struggling with that one......
The other thing that I came to understand so very clearly is what Jesus said at the close of Matthew Ch 19: " But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first". This became crystal clear to me and explains so much that we don't seem to be able to comprehend about poverty. Yes - if you just view poverty from the perspective of this lifetime it seems horribly unfair that this is the condition into which many are born. But Jesus said "the poor shall be with you always". And God has a special love and consideration for these among His children. His word speaks over and over of our responsibility to them. It is, in many ways, our care of them by which God transforms us and conforms us more into the image of his Son, which is His ultimate goal. Jesus, at the close of Matthew Ch 19, is speaking of how everything will be different in the eternal kingdom. This is where I will lose my non believing friends. Sorry! This won't make any sense to you if you do not believe in eternal life. But to those of you out there reading who profess to believe in Christ, this is critical for you to understand. In this age, we are the first. Us. The wealthy, powerful, influential, materially rich, the well fed, the health insured, the people with jobs, a bank account, cars in the driveway, roofs over our heads, plumbing, electricity and trash pick up. Yes you. And me. We are the rich- just like the rich young ruler. We are the first. At least for now.....
As I lived among our African friends I saw those who are the last, the least among us in this world. I saw their great faith. I witnessed how they woke up in the morning singing African songs of praise, rousing us out of our tents, exhorting us to get up and begin worshipping the Lord. I saw their devotion to The Word. I heard them express over and over the goodness, the greatness of God. I heard them thanking Him repeatedly for His many blessings. I heard them express their steadfast hope in Him. Their prayers for a better tomorrow. Their absolute faith and trust in His provision. I saw them end the day as they had begun it - worshipping our God. And I understood that these would be the first in the eternal kingdom. And rightly so.....
My teacher always says that this life makes little sense unless you view it in the light of eternity. What he means by this is that as Christians, we profess that we believe that this life is but a moment. In the words of one of my favorite bands, Casting Crowns, "I am a flower quickly fading/ here today and gone tomorrow/ a vapor in the wind". If we believe that this life is but a moment, and the next one lasts for.....well......all eternity, then why would we not be willing to do that which Jesus calls us to do in this life for His sake? Considering the retirement plan He is offering, is it not worth some sacrifice in this life?
My final thought here is this. In the middle of Matthew Ch 19, one of the disciples looks as Jesus in astonishment and asks "Who then can be saved?". To which Jesus responds "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible". It's not that the wealthy are refused entrance into the eternal kingdom. But what Jesus understood is that the barriers which are created as a result of great wealth make it much harder for us to place our trust in Him. We are insulated in a sense. We can rely on our jobs. On our 401k plans. On our excellent health insurance plans. On our paid up mortgages. These things are not bad in and of themselves. Only in so far as we feel that they are more important than trust and reliance on Him. And this was a huge difference that I saw, that Chan sees, among our brethren living in the developing world. Without these things to rely upon, they truly do live each day by faith. They are absolutely reliant upon God for each and every blessing that they receive. There are far fewer barriers for them to overcome to reach the nearness of God. It is so much harder for those of us living in affluence. Not impossible. Just much harder. Jesus speaks eloquently to this fact of life. He wants us to see it, hear it, understand it. It is critically important that we do....
It sort of makes you wonder who the blessed really are....those who live in affluence or those living in poverty? Sorry to blow holes in your "Prosperity Theology" Mr. Robertson (of the 700 Club fame). I guess it all boils down to your perspective- the earthly one or the eternal one? Food for thought......... Shalom!
This same effect in essence occurred within me on this trip. I understood- REALLY understood for the first time, certain key passages of scripture and what they mean as a result of being immersed in a different sort of world. I now have a much deeper understanding of wealth. Also, what it means to be poor. Why Jesus had so much to say about the haves and the have nots. And I have a new found sense of conviction of just how very difficult it is to possess material wealth and not be a slave to two masters.
I was reading a book last year about this time by one of my favorite Christian writers, Francis Chan. If you read my blog often, you have seen this name before. Chan is a young, charismatic pastor from the west coast who has written several best sellers. People have labeled him an evangelical, which I don't like because that has lots of negative connotations in our society. What I do like about Chan is his gentle spirit. The fact that he shares openly his own struggles of faith. The way that he has so much difficulty with " the Church" and organized religion as a whole. Yep- he's my kind of guy. One of the things Chan writes about is how drawn he feels to the Third World. But not because he feels the need to go " fix" everything that is wrong there- rather, he is drawn to this world because of the vibrant faith of the people. He writes about the difference between how people feel and act toward God in places like Uganda versus here in this country. When you read his description of this, you can sense how heavy his heart is with how pale and anemic he finds the love of his fellow Americans to be for the God that they profess faith in. I thought about this when I read it and remembered back to my previous trips to Mexico. The simple, heartfelt expressions of worship I had seen there. The complete dependency on God which marked their daily existence. I could relate to what Chan was writing about.
Even with this previous experience to draw upon, I was still unprepared for how hard some lessons would hit home as a result of my time in Africa. The story of The Rich Young Ruler (Matthew Ch 19) became so alive, so meaningful to me on so many levels. We have all heard this story over and over. It contains the famous "camel fitting through the eye of the needle" passage. We had studied this passage in my Bible Study class not long before my trip. What I knew about this story was that it was the rich young ruler's attachment to his wealth that Jesus was able to see. He was able to see that this attachment was a barrier within him to a more meaningful relationship with the Father, which is why in love, Jesus asks him to forsake his wealth in this world for greater riches in the next by giving it all away and following Him. And we know the outcome- the rich young ruler walks away sad. As I lived and worked in Uganda and was surrounded by the difficulties of just daily existence in such a place I began to question myself "what if Jesus called me to give up my home, my family, my clean prosperous life (complete with actual plumbing!) and pack it all up and move here to serve Him. Could I do that?". I thought about the SLAM people who were doing that very thing. I admire them deeply for their commitment to their faith, the way they will live that out as they plant themselves in this community and live side by side with the Ugandan people sharing in their poverty. Could I do such a thing? In all honesty, I think that like the rich young ruler I would walk away sad too. For the first time ever, I felt sympathy for him and his dilemma. And the sobering look I had to take at myself has lead me to understand that I am not nearly as good a person, nor disciple of Christ as I thought myself to be. So there's that to chew on. Still struggling with that one......
The other thing that I came to understand so very clearly is what Jesus said at the close of Matthew Ch 19: " But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first". This became crystal clear to me and explains so much that we don't seem to be able to comprehend about poverty. Yes - if you just view poverty from the perspective of this lifetime it seems horribly unfair that this is the condition into which many are born. But Jesus said "the poor shall be with you always". And God has a special love and consideration for these among His children. His word speaks over and over of our responsibility to them. It is, in many ways, our care of them by which God transforms us and conforms us more into the image of his Son, which is His ultimate goal. Jesus, at the close of Matthew Ch 19, is speaking of how everything will be different in the eternal kingdom. This is where I will lose my non believing friends. Sorry! This won't make any sense to you if you do not believe in eternal life. But to those of you out there reading who profess to believe in Christ, this is critical for you to understand. In this age, we are the first. Us. The wealthy, powerful, influential, materially rich, the well fed, the health insured, the people with jobs, a bank account, cars in the driveway, roofs over our heads, plumbing, electricity and trash pick up. Yes you. And me. We are the rich- just like the rich young ruler. We are the first. At least for now.....
As I lived among our African friends I saw those who are the last, the least among us in this world. I saw their great faith. I witnessed how they woke up in the morning singing African songs of praise, rousing us out of our tents, exhorting us to get up and begin worshipping the Lord. I saw their devotion to The Word. I heard them express over and over the goodness, the greatness of God. I heard them thanking Him repeatedly for His many blessings. I heard them express their steadfast hope in Him. Their prayers for a better tomorrow. Their absolute faith and trust in His provision. I saw them end the day as they had begun it - worshipping our God. And I understood that these would be the first in the eternal kingdom. And rightly so.....
My teacher always says that this life makes little sense unless you view it in the light of eternity. What he means by this is that as Christians, we profess that we believe that this life is but a moment. In the words of one of my favorite bands, Casting Crowns, "I am a flower quickly fading/ here today and gone tomorrow/ a vapor in the wind". If we believe that this life is but a moment, and the next one lasts for.....well......all eternity, then why would we not be willing to do that which Jesus calls us to do in this life for His sake? Considering the retirement plan He is offering, is it not worth some sacrifice in this life?
My final thought here is this. In the middle of Matthew Ch 19, one of the disciples looks as Jesus in astonishment and asks "Who then can be saved?". To which Jesus responds "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible". It's not that the wealthy are refused entrance into the eternal kingdom. But what Jesus understood is that the barriers which are created as a result of great wealth make it much harder for us to place our trust in Him. We are insulated in a sense. We can rely on our jobs. On our 401k plans. On our excellent health insurance plans. On our paid up mortgages. These things are not bad in and of themselves. Only in so far as we feel that they are more important than trust and reliance on Him. And this was a huge difference that I saw, that Chan sees, among our brethren living in the developing world. Without these things to rely upon, they truly do live each day by faith. They are absolutely reliant upon God for each and every blessing that they receive. There are far fewer barriers for them to overcome to reach the nearness of God. It is so much harder for those of us living in affluence. Not impossible. Just much harder. Jesus speaks eloquently to this fact of life. He wants us to see it, hear it, understand it. It is critically important that we do....
It sort of makes you wonder who the blessed really are....those who live in affluence or those living in poverty? Sorry to blow holes in your "Prosperity Theology" Mr. Robertson (of the 700 Club fame). I guess it all boils down to your perspective- the earthly one or the eternal one? Food for thought......... Shalom!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
A God Appointed Conversation
Have you ever had the experience of walking away from a conversation knowing that THAT was no accident? Have you ever been on the receiving end of a conversation, a phone call, a message of some sort, and you just knew that what was just said was from " God's lips to your ears" ? I love it when that happens. I have a friend who says there is no such thing as as "coincidences" but only "godincidences". I believe this to be true......I believe that God speaks to us in a myriad of ways. He speaks to us through His word. He speaks us to through music. He speaks to us through His creation. He speaks to us in prayer. And he speaks to us through our fellow human beings. Late one night around a dying camp fire in Uganda, I am certain I experienced a God appointed conversation with a young man from Kenya.
The fact is, I should never have been there. As I have said, chronic exhaustion was pretty much the norm for this trip. The SLAM people seemed to have a philosophy that life is too short to waste any of it sleeping! They pretty much kept us on the go from 0600 till after 11pm every night. And to top it off, I had lots of trouble sleeping. I think I'm probably too old for sleeping on the ground anymore. I just never could get comfortable in that sleeping bag on the hard packed earth. I tossed and turned a whole lot. So, generally speaking, I tried to turn in as early as I could- knowing that the odds were long that I'd get any rest at all. This particuar evening, I decided a different approach was in order. I thought maybe I would just stay up until I was falling down exhausted and then turn in, hoping that the exhaustion would work for me instead of against me. I decided to sit up by the camp fire and write in my journal.
As always, the Africans were up late, sitting around the fire, and talking. They too were from the school of philosophy that humans need little sleep! As I was writing, the young man sitting next to me struck up a conversation. As I indicated, he was from Kenya. His name was Naman.
Naman began sharing some of his life story with me. He is the last from his family. In January of this year, his only remaining sibling, the eldest brother named David, died tragically, suddenly, unexpectedly. David was 53 years old. He simply fell ill and died. Naman does not know why.
David was the classic case of the eldest child from a family made good. He lived and worked in South Africa as a director and trainer for legal services. An educated man, David held a PhD. He had been planning his retirement and his move back to Kenya for many years. At age 55, he would have been able to do this and then work full time for his foundation, which was his passion.
David, was a man of God. He worked tirelessly for the people of his village. He used to tell Naman that too many Africans were concerned about improving their houses. Until one has built a house for God, he said, there is no need to worry about your own! David built God a house in his village. Naman has promised to send me pictures of the church his brother established in Kenya.
David wanted to help his younger brother. He had seen to his education. Naman wants to go to seminary. David had promised to send him. He was to start this September. In the meantime, he was back and forth to Kenya from South Africa tending to his foundation which looks after the welfare of over 180 widows and orphans in their village. Then suddenly, his life ended. An unfinished life from our perspective, perhaps. But David's work and his dream go on.
For Naman, life has changed. His plans for seminary are shelved. He is now responsible for his brother's widow, really his only remaining relative now- and the responsibility for all those widows and orphans? Now resting on his 26 yr old shoulders.....
He said to me "I don't know how, but I know that God will provide. This much I know. I want to tell the stories of the children. I want to see if I can arrange sponsorships for them so that they can go to school.". I told him of the child in Uganda that I sponsor. He was very attentive and interested. He gave me his brother's business card and asked if he might contact me thru email after the trip. I said of course. We exchanged contact information. I told him that my church was a big place and that I have many friends in the US with whom I would share his story. I told him that God does indeed provide, and that help would surely come to him because of his obedience in taking over his brother's work. Because care of the widow and the orphan is God's highest calling, God will bless the work of his hands. He is already doing so.....
I believe that God nudged me in my exhaustion to sit up late that night. I stayed up past 1 am talking with Naman. It is the only night I didn't turn in shortly after our final evening meeting. As he was speaking of his work with the widows and orphans I had the thought "this is why God put me around the campfire this evening. He wants me to hear this story. He wants me to be moved by it. He is arranging help for Naman". This is the way God works. He has every piece of the puzzle and He knows exactly how they fit together and are interrelated. He brings them together in ways we cannot begin to imagine. It is my hope that I will hear from Naman soon. God arranged for a woman from a distant land to be sitting in a field in Uganda next to a dying campfire to hear a story from a young man from Kenya. Two people who had not a snowball's chance in hell of ever meeting, but for the grace of God. I recognize the hand of God in this. I am anxious to see what the next step will be..... PS: that night was the first decent night's sleep I had had in 6 days! Shalom!
The fact is, I should never have been there. As I have said, chronic exhaustion was pretty much the norm for this trip. The SLAM people seemed to have a philosophy that life is too short to waste any of it sleeping! They pretty much kept us on the go from 0600 till after 11pm every night. And to top it off, I had lots of trouble sleeping. I think I'm probably too old for sleeping on the ground anymore. I just never could get comfortable in that sleeping bag on the hard packed earth. I tossed and turned a whole lot. So, generally speaking, I tried to turn in as early as I could- knowing that the odds were long that I'd get any rest at all. This particuar evening, I decided a different approach was in order. I thought maybe I would just stay up until I was falling down exhausted and then turn in, hoping that the exhaustion would work for me instead of against me. I decided to sit up by the camp fire and write in my journal.
As always, the Africans were up late, sitting around the fire, and talking. They too were from the school of philosophy that humans need little sleep! As I was writing, the young man sitting next to me struck up a conversation. As I indicated, he was from Kenya. His name was Naman.
Naman began sharing some of his life story with me. He is the last from his family. In January of this year, his only remaining sibling, the eldest brother named David, died tragically, suddenly, unexpectedly. David was 53 years old. He simply fell ill and died. Naman does not know why.
David was the classic case of the eldest child from a family made good. He lived and worked in South Africa as a director and trainer for legal services. An educated man, David held a PhD. He had been planning his retirement and his move back to Kenya for many years. At age 55, he would have been able to do this and then work full time for his foundation, which was his passion.
David, was a man of God. He worked tirelessly for the people of his village. He used to tell Naman that too many Africans were concerned about improving their houses. Until one has built a house for God, he said, there is no need to worry about your own! David built God a house in his village. Naman has promised to send me pictures of the church his brother established in Kenya.
David wanted to help his younger brother. He had seen to his education. Naman wants to go to seminary. David had promised to send him. He was to start this September. In the meantime, he was back and forth to Kenya from South Africa tending to his foundation which looks after the welfare of over 180 widows and orphans in their village. Then suddenly, his life ended. An unfinished life from our perspective, perhaps. But David's work and his dream go on.
For Naman, life has changed. His plans for seminary are shelved. He is now responsible for his brother's widow, really his only remaining relative now- and the responsibility for all those widows and orphans? Now resting on his 26 yr old shoulders.....
He said to me "I don't know how, but I know that God will provide. This much I know. I want to tell the stories of the children. I want to see if I can arrange sponsorships for them so that they can go to school.". I told him of the child in Uganda that I sponsor. He was very attentive and interested. He gave me his brother's business card and asked if he might contact me thru email after the trip. I said of course. We exchanged contact information. I told him that my church was a big place and that I have many friends in the US with whom I would share his story. I told him that God does indeed provide, and that help would surely come to him because of his obedience in taking over his brother's work. Because care of the widow and the orphan is God's highest calling, God will bless the work of his hands. He is already doing so.....
I believe that God nudged me in my exhaustion to sit up late that night. I stayed up past 1 am talking with Naman. It is the only night I didn't turn in shortly after our final evening meeting. As he was speaking of his work with the widows and orphans I had the thought "this is why God put me around the campfire this evening. He wants me to hear this story. He wants me to be moved by it. He is arranging help for Naman". This is the way God works. He has every piece of the puzzle and He knows exactly how they fit together and are interrelated. He brings them together in ways we cannot begin to imagine. It is my hope that I will hear from Naman soon. God arranged for a woman from a distant land to be sitting in a field in Uganda next to a dying campfire to hear a story from a young man from Kenya. Two people who had not a snowball's chance in hell of ever meeting, but for the grace of God. I recognize the hand of God in this. I am anxious to see what the next step will be..... PS: that night was the first decent night's sleep I had had in 6 days! Shalom!
Monday, August 1, 2011
An Education
As promised, I said I would be writing about the education system in Uganda and here it is! Visiting schools is something we did a good bit of. We visited some public schools and a private one, St Mary's. I bet we saw close to a thousand school kids during the week we were there. There are SO many children in Uganda. It is really something that strikes you almost immediately. The population there is quite young. 50% of the population is under 14 years of age. The average life expectancy is 51 years. Retirement is at age 55. Uganda is full of mostly people who are a lot younger than we are in the US. Here at home only 27% of our population is under the age of 20. And we have nearly 13% over the age of 65. So the demographics of our two countries are quite strikingly different. As is most everything else, in case you haven't noticed that already......
The fact that there are so many children perhaps in some way explains the conditions in the schools. They are just not equipped in any way to handle the number of kids who need to be educated. Consider the teacher to student ratio in the US. Once the numbers get much above 25 per classroom at the elementary level, big red flags begin to go up. Parents become very concerned. Class ratios and concern over them lead many parents to choose private schools or to home school. In Uganda the ratio of students to teacher is around 70 -80 per teacher. No- that is not a typo. You read that correctly. 70-80 students per teacher. How do they do that you are wondering? Well, there are a couple of things that they have going for them that teachers at home do not.....
First of all, African children are taught to fear and respect adults. There is a very definite belief in the proverb "spare the rod, spoil the child". Teachers have the authority to beat students with a stick if need be. They do it regularly. No one bats an eye lash. Consequently, the kids are well mannered and well behaved. They fear the rod. So they think twice about acting up. We saw children being beaten in the streets by adults. There is no social services to come around and threaten parents. They have full authority over their children and no one questions it. You might think this is terrible. But if you could see the difference between how these children behave compared with children here at home, you might begin to think differently about it. I may not like the idea of children being beaten, but I can tell you I certainly can see the positive effects of it. There is absolutely no denying that children there are more polite, better behaved, more respectful than children in this country. Of course there is more than one reason for this, but a healthy fear and respect for authority is certainly a part of the equation.
This for example. We walked into a class room of 3 and 4 yr old children. 70 or so of them. They were all seated on long narrow benches. Maybe 8-10 per bench. The room was very small and dark. There is no electricity in the schools. There were no books. No computers. No pens, pencils, crayons. No educational toys. All they had was a blackboard and some chalk. These children sat quietly. No one said a word. There was no touching. No bothering each other. No one fidgeting. No one getting up to run around. In short- no evidence of ADHD anywhere to be seen! If someone wanted to speak a hand was raised. The teacher had absolute control over all these children. Is there a preschool anywhere in the US that would look anything like this? Oh, I think NOT! I remember drop off days at preschool. It was like Bedlam!
As I spoke to in my previous post, school attendance is a big deal. Being able to go, that is. Every child wants to go to school but many can't because their parents can't find the fees for various things. Public school is free in Uganda. Sort of.....kids are allowed to attend to a point. But then parents are contacted for the fees they owe, and if they can't pay, the kids can't come back. This results in many breaks in the child's education process. And this is why they are much older when they finish up the equivalent of high school here in the US. It is not unusual for a 20 yr old to just be graduating from what we would call high school.
My family sponsors a 14 yr old girl in a village in Uganda somewhere. Her name is Deborah. We support her with a monthly stipend which pays for her school fees, uniforms, supplies, and any extras that she needs. She writes to me often in English. She never fails to thank us for paying for her school fees. Just this simple thing takes so much pressure off of her family. Kids in Bombo where we were staying know about these type of sponsorship arrangements. If they approached us and asked for anything at all, they asked us to sponsor them to go to school. Such a small thing to desire. And something so easy for us to do. For less than the cost of a dinner out each month, we can make a huge difference in the life of a child in the developing world. There are several good organizations thru which you can do this. One of the things I want to do at the end of my journal sharing is to offer suggestions for ways in which people can get involved in helping to make things easier in the lives of our brothers and sisters in the third world who have so much less in the way of material things than we do.
The time that we spent visiting schools in Bombo is one of my fondest memories of the trip. At one elementary school we gathered outside under a large mahogany tree with at least 200 children. We sang worship songs, shared some inspirational messages, visited their class rooms, and played games. At another we gathered in a large auditorium with about 400 high school aged students. We were teaching the teens a Third Day Song entitled " Sweet, Sweet Song". It's a simple song to sing. The chorus is "You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song. You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song. You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song. And I will sing again...". At first they just listened. Then Rachel invited them to sing with us, and 400 beautiful African faces smiled broadly and broke into song. It was one of those total "God present with us" moments. In that room was the presence of the Holy Spirit. It was amazing. Powerful. Holy. I will never hear that song again and not go right back to that moment in Uganda. I will carry that memory in my heart till the day I die. As I will the beauty of all the children we met during our brief time their country. Children with dreams. Children who long for a better life. Children loved by a Holy God who wonders how long before His people answer His call to care for the orphan, the widow, those less fortunate? I have heard skeptics say that God should get off His butt and take care of these people if He loves them so much. To which I say- that is the job He has left to us until He comes again and all things are restored. How long will that be? Until The Gospel has reached the ends of the earth. Help spread it. Love a child who is not your own. Care for one. Provide for one. We can't fix all the ills of this world. But we can be like the Star Fish Thrower. We can make a difference to one. Shalom!
The fact that there are so many children perhaps in some way explains the conditions in the schools. They are just not equipped in any way to handle the number of kids who need to be educated. Consider the teacher to student ratio in the US. Once the numbers get much above 25 per classroom at the elementary level, big red flags begin to go up. Parents become very concerned. Class ratios and concern over them lead many parents to choose private schools or to home school. In Uganda the ratio of students to teacher is around 70 -80 per teacher. No- that is not a typo. You read that correctly. 70-80 students per teacher. How do they do that you are wondering? Well, there are a couple of things that they have going for them that teachers at home do not.....
First of all, African children are taught to fear and respect adults. There is a very definite belief in the proverb "spare the rod, spoil the child". Teachers have the authority to beat students with a stick if need be. They do it regularly. No one bats an eye lash. Consequently, the kids are well mannered and well behaved. They fear the rod. So they think twice about acting up. We saw children being beaten in the streets by adults. There is no social services to come around and threaten parents. They have full authority over their children and no one questions it. You might think this is terrible. But if you could see the difference between how these children behave compared with children here at home, you might begin to think differently about it. I may not like the idea of children being beaten, but I can tell you I certainly can see the positive effects of it. There is absolutely no denying that children there are more polite, better behaved, more respectful than children in this country. Of course there is more than one reason for this, but a healthy fear and respect for authority is certainly a part of the equation.
This for example. We walked into a class room of 3 and 4 yr old children. 70 or so of them. They were all seated on long narrow benches. Maybe 8-10 per bench. The room was very small and dark. There is no electricity in the schools. There were no books. No computers. No pens, pencils, crayons. No educational toys. All they had was a blackboard and some chalk. These children sat quietly. No one said a word. There was no touching. No bothering each other. No one fidgeting. No one getting up to run around. In short- no evidence of ADHD anywhere to be seen! If someone wanted to speak a hand was raised. The teacher had absolute control over all these children. Is there a preschool anywhere in the US that would look anything like this? Oh, I think NOT! I remember drop off days at preschool. It was like Bedlam!
As I spoke to in my previous post, school attendance is a big deal. Being able to go, that is. Every child wants to go to school but many can't because their parents can't find the fees for various things. Public school is free in Uganda. Sort of.....kids are allowed to attend to a point. But then parents are contacted for the fees they owe, and if they can't pay, the kids can't come back. This results in many breaks in the child's education process. And this is why they are much older when they finish up the equivalent of high school here in the US. It is not unusual for a 20 yr old to just be graduating from what we would call high school.
My family sponsors a 14 yr old girl in a village in Uganda somewhere. Her name is Deborah. We support her with a monthly stipend which pays for her school fees, uniforms, supplies, and any extras that she needs. She writes to me often in English. She never fails to thank us for paying for her school fees. Just this simple thing takes so much pressure off of her family. Kids in Bombo where we were staying know about these type of sponsorship arrangements. If they approached us and asked for anything at all, they asked us to sponsor them to go to school. Such a small thing to desire. And something so easy for us to do. For less than the cost of a dinner out each month, we can make a huge difference in the life of a child in the developing world. There are several good organizations thru which you can do this. One of the things I want to do at the end of my journal sharing is to offer suggestions for ways in which people can get involved in helping to make things easier in the lives of our brothers and sisters in the third world who have so much less in the way of material things than we do.
The time that we spent visiting schools in Bombo is one of my fondest memories of the trip. At one elementary school we gathered outside under a large mahogany tree with at least 200 children. We sang worship songs, shared some inspirational messages, visited their class rooms, and played games. At another we gathered in a large auditorium with about 400 high school aged students. We were teaching the teens a Third Day Song entitled " Sweet, Sweet Song". It's a simple song to sing. The chorus is "You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song. You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song. You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song. And I will sing again...". At first they just listened. Then Rachel invited them to sing with us, and 400 beautiful African faces smiled broadly and broke into song. It was one of those total "God present with us" moments. In that room was the presence of the Holy Spirit. It was amazing. Powerful. Holy. I will never hear that song again and not go right back to that moment in Uganda. I will carry that memory in my heart till the day I die. As I will the beauty of all the children we met during our brief time their country. Children with dreams. Children who long for a better life. Children loved by a Holy God who wonders how long before His people answer His call to care for the orphan, the widow, those less fortunate? I have heard skeptics say that God should get off His butt and take care of these people if He loves them so much. To which I say- that is the job He has left to us until He comes again and all things are restored. How long will that be? Until The Gospel has reached the ends of the earth. Help spread it. Love a child who is not your own. Care for one. Provide for one. We can't fix all the ills of this world. But we can be like the Star Fish Thrower. We can make a difference to one. Shalom!
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