Out of Africa
from We Are That Family
by Kristen

I don’t know who I am.

It’s a startling realization to not recognize yourself: My own voice sounds hollow. My eyes hold a distant stare, remembering all I’ve seen in Africa this past week. My thoughts keep me awake at night.

Just days after I returned, I found my husband carefully watching me. "I don’t feel like I know you," he said softly, beckoning.

"I don’t feel like I know me either," I said.

And I cried.

I feel more than guilt for such an easy life, accessible food, clean water and abundance. I feel aware. The blinders are gone. I can’t pretend I don’t know how the poorest of the poor live. I can’t act like there aren’t children who go to bed hungry. I can’t ignore that 30,000 children die each day from preventable causes.

I can’t stop thinking about Vincent, living as an orphan and father, in squalor. When I close my eyes at night, his face is what I see. I see him in his "home" that’s not fit for an animal.

I see the joy of the Lord in his eyes. Peace. I see Jesus.

I think that is what is so hard. I cannot reconcile his lack of every basic need and such fullness in his heart and life. The two don’t mix.

In America, in my town, in my home and heart, I complain about a dirty house, yard work, needing a "break" from cooking or my children. Every basic need is met, PLUS more luxuries than I can count.

With so much, how can my joy be incomplete?

How is it that I can see true peace in one of the largest slums in the world, where the smell of death is prominent and it’s rare in the most blessed nation?

I’m not sure how to mix these worlds together; how to show my spouse all that I’ve seen and all that my heart holds, or parent my kids without guilt.

I don’t know how to find myself again. I don’t know how to return to my everyday life when children still need to be sponsored. But I’m trying.

I am so thankful for this place, although foreign and uncomfortable, I’m not alone. God is right here with me, leading me into new places.

I may be out of Africa, but it will never be out of me.

Read the entire post, with pictures & comments:

http://www.wearethatfamily.com/2010/03/out-of-africa.html

"I have to confess to you that I, too, struggle to mourn over these kids as if they were my own. Becoming the president of World Vision didn’t turn me into Teresa of Calcutta. It is altogether possible for me to do my job at World Vision with a sense of emotional detachment. I can sit in meetings all day, review financial statements, attend chapel at eleven o’clock on Wednesdays, and even write a book about the poor, without my heart burning every moment with sadness., Like most Americans, I can get easily distracted by the details of my own life and family.”

“We have a nice home, live in a pleasant neighborhood, and go to a beautiful church. We make trips to the mall, go out to the movies, and take family vacations – often with little thought for the tragic lives of children thousands of miles away. But then I get on a plane, and twenty-four hours later I find myself in the home of a grieving mother dying of AIDS and leaving her five children orphans. Or I see a baby slowly starving to death, a child with one leg because of a landmine accident, or a little girl who was rescued from prostitution. And all of a sudden it becomes very personal again. Somebody else’s kids just became very important to me because now I know their names, I have looked into their eyes, and I have cried with their parents. I come back home angry at myself, incensed by my own apathy, with a fresh resolve and a renewed passion to crusade on behalf of these kids, to fight for them with every breath in my body. The meetings are no longer routine, and the balance sheets are no longer just numbers; they are now life-and-death issues. They’re urgent. We’ve got to do something! We’ve got to help! But then, a few weeks later, the fire dies down again, the images in my head fade, I drift back inside my safe and protected world, and they’re somebody else’s kids again – not mine."

"I mentioned earlier the prayer of World Vision’s founder, bob Pierce: “Let my heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God.” As I have tried to walk in some of his footsteps these past ten years, I have gained new insight into his prayer. While it was a prayer he hoped everyone would pray, it was even more personal for him. You see, I believe that even Bob Pierce struggled to sustain the level of brokenheartedness and caring required to press ahead year after year in this work of loving the poor. His prayer was a crying out to God, that God would break his heart yet again and again, because if He didn’t, Bob knew that he could not love somebody else’s kids the way God did. No man or woman can unless God breaks that individual’s heart. Only then can he or she – or we – care as God cares and love as He loves. That’s why we must pray constantly that God will soften our hearts so we see the world the way He sees it."

- The Hole in Our Gospel by Richard Stearns, pg 109

"Christ has no body now on earth but yours,
no hands but yours,
no feet but yours,
yours are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion
is to look out to the earth,
yours are the feet by which He is to go about doing good
and yours are the hands by which He is to bless us now."
- St Teresa of Avila

Hey my name is Matt and I was asked to come down and tell you a piece of my story today.  For some reason my story always seems to have a good experience and a bad experience when ever I learn something in my life.  Today I will share with you the latest thing that the lord has taught me.  The lord recently choose to work with me on my pride.  My pride in that I can fix just about anything, from cars to houses.  Over the years I have been a little bit of every thing.  I have been a mechanic,  a carpenter, an electrician, and a plumber.   So there is not too much in the realm of necessities that I can’t fix. 
Recently on a trip to Honduras I got to see just how far my pride would take me.   There was a small group of us that went.  We all had our reasons for going.  Mine was kind of selfish maybe even a little high and mighty.  I had hoped that some how I was going to be able to fix all of Honduras problems in the short week I was there.  Kinda lofty I know, but hey dream big right?  I was going to show those Honduras how people in the states work and where they went wrong.  I would be the one to shed light to the Hondurans.  This mind set lasted about 2 hrs after we arrived in Honduras. 

As we pulled in Choluteca I could feel my heart begin to sink low into my chest.  I looked up and down the streets and everything I saw just made me sad.  The first thing I noticed was the trash and litter that was everywhere.  The second thing was all of the run down looking houses and cars.  Came to find out this was the typical middle class there.  So my spirit had been crushed without ever getting out of the van. That was kind of depressing for me, for there was no amount of work that I could do that was going to bring this community around in a week. 

That was my Saturday.  Sunday was pretty mundane I was left mostly to my thoughts.  On Monday I was in good spirits.  We were at the  Day Care playing with kids and having a great time.  We served them lunch.  They sing us a couple of songs.  One kid even recited us all of the books of the bible.  I was just amazed by the joy I saw on these kid’s faces. 

Then we took a short drive across town.  We went to visit a woman named Carla.  The first thing we saw when we arrived was her kids they were sorta happy to see us, but it was not like the sheer joy that the kids over at the day care had just shown us.  We made our way past the kids and went to say hi to Carla.  Carla was a 30 year old woman with 2 kids.  She had contracted HIV some time ago and now was in the final stages.   1 of her kids is 10 the other is  6.  The 10 year old also has HIV.  The 6 year old is clean.  The 6 year old is extremely lucky to be HIV free, but Carla is 8 months pregnant.  With her body in the shape its in….well this c section is going to be risky and nobody is sure weather she will make it or not. So the only thing we can do is pray. 

These sorts of scenes just kill me in side. I enjoy fixing things but, at this time, there is not a thing in the world I can do to help her in this situation.  God does have a plan though.  For me it was he had to break me of my pride.  This pride that I can fix anything.  He wanted to show me how to love and care for people.  Breaking of my pride accomplished in 2 days.  Job well done.  Now for the fun part.  He gets to fix me. 

Well since my arrival in Honduras I had been in a sort of depressed state, but a little bit of hope was living with me in the house that I stayed.  This little bit of hope was named Samuel.  Samuel is pastor Giovanni’s youngest and he does not speak a lick of English and my Spanish was no where near good enough to attempt to carry on a conversation.  Even with the language barrier he still taught me something.  Every night we would retire to our houses and Samuel would want to play cards.  The only game we could play with out words was War.  So every night we would play war, I don’t think I won a game.  Over the course of the week we became friends, and in some ways I  consider him a little brother.  Now I see some of you asking what are you getting at. 

Well,  here is the link.  A 6 year old taught me that all I had to do was be there.  I didn’t have to talk .  I just had to sit, listen, and pray.  The same applied to all of the people I had seen and shared the gospel with all week.  Yes the work was fun, (for me at least) but all of that will be wiped away the next time a disaster like hurricane Mitch hits.  But if I cared about the people and tried to help them find Christ.  No disaster is ever going to remove that.  At the end of that week that is what god had taught me.  I cant fix everything that is wrong in this world, but if I quit worrying about the material things and focus on the people and their spiritual needs. That is where I can make a difference and no matter how bad it gets. They can and will always have that. 

So that got me thinking, if I am so comfortable help people in another country couldn’t I do the same here. One great way I have found to reach out is through TQG, but TQG only meets on Monday.  What about the other six days of  the week.  I would bet I could find a lot more people that are in need of God’s love.  I could start by looking to people who are close to me, and other people that I interact with on a daily basis.  I probably won’t start pounding scripture down peoples throats, but if I just listen and care that just might make a huge difference in somebody’s day. 

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