Disappointment.

So I have $130 worth of water filter here, but I haven't had the need to use it until now.  The days are getting hotter, and the nights are starting to be unbearable, so water is always needed.  I finally got buckets to connect the filter to, and I'm super excited because I'm told this filter takes out giardia and amoebas, finally an endless water supply is going to be at my finger tips.  I can taste the sweetness of clean, cold water entering my parched mouth...I'm super excited!  So I had to cut some holes, and connect some stuff, but no leaks...this will be a success, I can feel it in my stomach!  So you know how in the states when people say that they have well water, everyone knows their water is good and probably super cold and, well, just nice.  Here, when someone says well water I know it's not even close.  All of the water I draw up from wells has a nice brownish tint to it, pieces of sticks floating in it, chunks of dirt in it, and once in a while I will get this nice  metal taste in the water.  Basically after I drink some of this stuff I wonder how fast I will be able to run to the hole if I get massive, explosive diarrhea during the night.  So anyways, this filter, the answer to life's problems...how beautiful.  Well, I hooked it up, poured water in, and waited.  Disappointment.  That word means different things for different people, and for some people it runs deeper than for others.  Right now, that word means I won't get an unlimited  water supply like I thought.  The water that came out the other end was yellow.  Sure it took out most of the things that I could see, at least it wasn't as brown as the water that I put in it, but still, it was dirty.  There were still little parasites swimming in there, I could tell.  Don't worry, I won't die from dehydration, there are other ways to find clean water, but still, disappointment entered into my once excited stomach.   But have you ever thought of the impurities in our own lives?  Maybe it's the things we say, what we watch, what we listen to, or what we spend our time doing.  Our impurities are natural, we're sinners, but we have a filter.  We have someone who takes away ALL our impurities, and He never leaves dirty water behind.  He wants to give us clean water, an endless supply, a supply that will never run dry, and will never give us diarrhea.  The best thing of all, is that it's free.  Want a drink?

How Heavy Is Your Load?

Each morning the women will walk to their fields to gather wood to sell
or cook with. These women will walk miles with 30-40 lbs of wood on
their heads, and then they'll walk two miles or more to the market where
they attempt to sell if for less than a dollar. Life is so hard here.
When I look at them I can't help but think of how heavy their load is.
Today I saw three little girls, probably only 8 of 9 years old, and they
were walking the two miles to the market to sell their bundles of wood.
These bundles were bigger than the little girls; how heavy the load is
for them.
I saw Pierre on the road trying to carry this branch that was probably
only 20 lbs. He's around 50 years old, but has the look of an 80 year
old. The load was a little too much for him. There are families with
young people all along the road, and not one person was about to offer
him assistance. I stopped him and offered to take this branch from him,
and with a big smile he handed it to me. I didn't realize that his
house was as far as it was, and at the speed he was walking it took even
longer, but we finally made it. The walk was a bit far, and a bit hard,
I even had to change shoulders a few time, and my body is still young.
Without help he would have struggled for a good half an hour trying to
take this branch home. The loads that these people carry...that we all
carry are too heavy. I see it everyday when women are bent over from
work, when children are carrying as much as the parents, or when mothers
hold their dying children because there's not money to take them to the
hospital. I see it when friends struggle with depression, when couples
get divorced, and when Satan attacks us and wants to separate us from God.

Today, I went to another funeral. The family built a platform about 5ft
high and placed this young man's body on it. I saw women coming and
wailing around him, grabbing his arms, crying out as if they had just
lost their own son. Sometimes I don't think that they are just crying
because someone died, although that is part of the reason. I think they
cry from all the work, all the death, all the births, all the beatings,
all the corruption, all the starvation, all the neglect, all the pain.
The only place where it is normal and excepted to cry is at a funeral,
and that's where all their suppressed emotions are able to come out, and
they are able to feel all that there is to cry about here.
After I dropped off the stick at Pierre's house, he was so grateful for
what I did. I have never seen someone so happy and thankful for
something...and I only carried his heavy load. I really didn't do very
much, but he still wished that he had something to give me. As I walked
away, I remembered that I had an old cabbage and some noodles in my bag;
they weren't the best, but I went back to his house and gave them to
him. Again he was so grateful, telling me that he wouldn't go hungry
tonight now, and again said he wished he had something to give me.
He'll never understand that his gratitude was enough. My heart was
filled with excitement and happiness, and all I did was offer to help
lighten his load. We are too weak to carry these burdens on our own, we
need help.
God does the same thing for us. No matter how heavy, or how long we've
been carrying our loads, God's arms are open to carry it for us. There
are too many people who don't know this yet, who are walking around
Tchad, who are walking around the United States of America, who don't
know that God will carry their burdens. They don't know that there is
help in the Lord, peace in His love, and water and food for the soul
that will never run dry. It's our privilege to tell them.

God is Good, and God is here.

Last night I went out visiting some of my neighbors, just to say hello and get to know the people that I've been living around for the past six months.  The first stop was Esther's house, where she stays in one hut with 3 out of the 7 children.  Her husband died some years ago, and now she works hard trying to put food in the mouths of her children.  I talked with her, but with the language barrier, I had to have my little sister translate from French into Nanjere, and throwing in the little Nanjere that I know, that's how we got to be friends.  I looked around their hut, and didn't see very much.  We were sitting on the grass mat where they sleep, the only nice thing they had was the chair that the oldest daughter sat on, but who knows, the father could have bought that when he was still alive.  it was nice getting out and visiting this family.  They didn't have anything to offer me, but they had opens hearts, and a space on the mat for me to sit...that's all I needed.   Next I went to Florin's house.  As I walked up they were all excited that I came, and they brought out their broken grass mats for us to sit on.  We sat down and talked about their health, the heat, the cold nights,  and the work.  I asked where her husband was, and she said that he's around, but switches between the houses of his wives.  He's drinks and smokes a lot, and doesn't provide the family with money.  The nice clothes that the children own are from missionaries, and they had to work for each piece of clothing.  The family asked me to come inside their wall to eat some food, which I wanted to say no, please, I'm really not hungry, but it was too late, they had a bowl out for me and we were already walking over.  It was a sauce made with mangoes, which I thought couldn't be too bad, mangoes are amazing!  I was expecting a yellow sauce type thing, since mangoes are yellow, but instead of a yellow sauce, it was gray.  Don't ask me what was in it,because I can't tell you, but I didn't enjoy it at all. But this was all they had, this was all they could give me.  I realized that this is what they eat everyday during mango season, and many days without rice because there is no money to buy it.  But what happens when the mangoes are finished, what will they eat then?  A few months back, Matthew gave a toothbrush to Florin, but since there was no toothpaste to give with it,  he told her to brush anyways.  I found out this week that she faithfully brushes everyday...with soap.  I realized how hard their lives are, how far God must seem for them.  Do they ever feel forgotten by God?  They don't have blankets to keep them warm, they don't have running water, or even clean water.  They are sick a lot, don't have money for the things they need, much less the things they want.  They have to eat nasty food everyday of their lives, do they ever feel forgotten?  I kept thinking this while we talked, but the longer we talked I realized it wasn't like that at all.  Every time we would talk about something hard, something that they struggle with, hunger, or the pain they go through, she would always say that God is good, and God is here.  God is good, and God is here.  What faith.  What trust.  I sit here and complain about the food, but the food I eat is pasta, and rice, and goodish sauce, I have so much!  I realized last night that they have everything that they need.  They have faith in a God who provides for their needs, and never leaves them.  God is good, and God is here.

I'm So Tired of This Life

I'm so tired of this life.  I'm tired of the pain, the hunger, the work, the struggle, I can't wait till it all ends and we can go home.  Ela went into the hospital again after a week of being home.  She is a 14 month old little girl, who used to have chubby cheeks, who laughed, and brought joy to her parents, and now she lays in the hospital close to death.  She is the youngest child in the family that Matthew lives with.  She was in the hospital for a week, where she was treated for malaria, giardia, and some other stuff, but after a week of being home, and suffering from constant fever, diarrhea, and throwing up, she was taken back to the hospital.  Clarise, the mom was tested for HIV, which, praise the Lord came back negative, and Ela was tested for lots of different problems as well.  We went to find out what Ela's tests said, but the lab workers said that the tests wouldn't be finished till the morning.  The only problem is that the lab workers get upset if they have to work past 12pm, and so they won't rush for tests for anyone, even if it means their death.  What else could we do but walk away and pray that whatever is wrong with her won't kill her before the morning. 

Throughout her time in the hospital she has had multiple IVs, many medications, and has suffered from a seizure.  She's so little, and has been through so much, but because of where we are, I'm not sure there's more than faith that can save her.  Every day the family asks when they can take her home, because she has enough energy to drink breast milk now, so she's better and can go home right?  I wish the family could understand why they're at the hospital, and why they need to stay.

Last Friday I was holding Ela while Clarise took a 5 minute nap, and in those 5 minutes I fell in love with her.  This little 14 month girl who seemed to be dying in my arms, her somewhat chubby cheeks that now sag because of malnutrition is the only thing left that shows that she used to be a healthy little girl.  The rest of her body, overcome by malnutrition, vomiting, and diarrhea, I couldn't help but hurt for her.  She breathes heavy, working hard for every breath.  She would open her eyes for a second, and then they would roll to the back of her head and she'd sleep some more.  Her mother Clarise hadn't eaten in 5 days, and it's not because she's not hungry, but because she has been holding her dying baby for months, and she's overwhelmed with depression, that she can't eat what's in front of her.  I finally understood a small portion of the pain that the people go through here on a day to day basis.  After holding Ela for 5 minutes and praying for her, I started to cry thinking that she is probably going to die, and I can't do anything about it.  But her mother who has loved Ela her whole life, has to sit and watch her daughter die, and can't do anything about it. How much pain she is going through.  As I sat there with her in my arms, I saw three other mothers who were there with their babies, and I saw how tired they looked, and how broken they were, and this is probably the 2nd or 3rd time they've gone through this with one of their children.  They have to be so tired of this life.

As I worked in Pediatrics this week, I would sit with them for hours, giving her liquids, watching her sleep, and praying for her life.  "Why can't I have the faith the same of the disciples?  Why can't my prayer heal her when medicine can't?  I've seen Jesus, right?  I've been with Jesus right?  Why can't my prayer save her?"  I couldn't get these thoughts out of my head, when after every prayer I would sit there and watch her struggle for every breath, when she would cough all day, and when her eyes would roll to the back of her head...God just save her!!  Yesterday she seemed to be getting better; at least she was eating, and she would look around, concentrating for minutes on different things.  Finally, a glimmer of hope.  Maybe these new medications that she got are helping.  But a while later Matthew went over and said that her head would go back and forth like she was struggling for something...struggling for life.  After prayers again last night we left for home, praying that she would make it through the night, and she did, maybe the medications really are helping! 

Today Dr. Olen did say that this was the last thing we could try, and sure she's not looking better, but just maybe.  As I watched her today, she would pull away from drinking milk, and just look at her Clarise with a somewhat pained look in her face, almost as if she was scared.  She is in so much pain.  My Great Physician, please take away her pain, heal her in Your time, and show Yourself to this family.  After Olen did rounds he told the family which medications to give when, and since she wasn't on IV fluids anymore it was okay for them to go home.  They finally got their wish to take her home, so that everyone could get some good rest.  We prayed again, knowing that if the new medications don't work, only prayer will save her.  After Matthew found a motorcycle I drove them home.

Each day brings new emotions, new surprises, and new faith.  I returned to work after taking Clarise and Ela home, and continued with work, while malaria filled Matthew slept in the SM hut.  At 11:30 am he said he wanted to go home to be with the family, and to be there for Ela, but since he wasn't feeling good, and since he's dizzy from the quinine, he asked me to drive him home.  We arrived to a mat filled with women crying.  We arrived to a little, cold body that is finally resting in peace.  God's time to heal her wasn't today, and He will come home again to take her home, but that doesn't take the hurt away... it doesn't stop the tears.  As I sat there and cried with them, I saw all the sisters wailing over her, and Clarise singing and crying by her little body.  God, come comfort this family.  God, come comfort us.  As I sat, the singing continued, and the uncle to Ela came from the market with a little white cloth, something that signifies that she's really gone.  It finally hit, this little girl that I've seen struggle for the past few months, this girl who used to smile at me, who used to hide her face from me, who just this week would stare at me while holding my hand, will never be able to do any of this again on this earth.  But God is good, He is here, and He will never leave.