Last Monday I left Hout Bay with toddler smooches on my lips and a ponytail on the side of my head, energized and filled with the love that the kids there shared with me. Working with children, whether in the townships of Hout Bay and Sir Lowry's, rural Limpopo and Transkei, or the urban and suburban midwestern United States, often fills me with a similar feeling. That feeling is such a blessing, but I have to be careful not to let it be the only thing that keeps me going.
When I first came to South Africa in July 2010, I was deeply touched and filled with joy by the children I met, particularly at a care center for children with special needs called Sinethemba in the Transkei. There were the universal things that children all over the world share - the joy, the love so freely received and returned - but there was something else that can be a little dangerous for a person like me. There I was, in Africa, playing with African children. Exciting and exotic. Those are not necessarily bad things in and of themselves, and I don't think that it's wrong that I really enjoy experiencing and learning about different cultures by working with kids in Cape Town, Limpopo, and the Transkei. However, the "It's Africa!" factor becomes risky when it starts to be my main motivation.
I returned from South Africa in 2010 with this "I have to go back!" feeling, but I soon realized that it would be selfish to return just to play with kids in an exciting new environment. It took some tears, but I finally accepted that it might not be God's will for me to return to this beautiful country. My prayer became that I could return if it were His will, and that if it weren't He would help me accept that. And now I am SO grateful that He led me to the opportunity to spend 5 weeks in Cape Town doing an internship through Truman State University and then spend the next 5 months working with Jabulani Africa Ministries!
So what motivates me to be here, half a continent and an ocean away from my comfort zone in the midwestern United States? Part of it is precious moments during kids' ministry with JAM, where I get to love on kids from beautifully diverse cultures and receive immense love and joy in return. And yes, part of it is the fact that it's Africa and I think that Africa is amazing. Another part of it is how deeply I was touched by the love of South Africans in 2010, and I wanted to do all I could to give back to the people of this country. All of those things got me across the ocean, and help energize me when I'm feeling homesick. But those things aren't what sustain me.
I need something more than smooches and side ponytails when I see kids fighting with each other because that's what they see at home; when I see broken glass all over the playgrounds, the muddy streets of the townships, and the dirt roads of rural villages; when I see kids with clothes and shoes that are falling apart; when I hear about corruption in the government that perpetuates so many devastating situations; and when I hear from my fellow intern at Thandokhulu or my fellow JAM team member about the sexual exploitation that haunts so many young girls. And I need more than smooches and side ponytails when I ask myself, "Are we really making an impact on these communities? Are the kids' lives really affected long-term by what we do?"
I believe that the answer to those questions is yes, but not because the kids play with my hair and give me kisses when I leave. I believe that we are making an impact because I believe that the man who inspires what we do at JAM is God's Messiah. I really believe that Jesus of Nazareth said that the greatest commandments are to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind" and to "Love your neighbor as yourself," and that in doing so we can help bring God's kingdom to earth (Matthew 22:37-40 NIV). I really believe that Jesus' message of unconditional love, for your neighbor whether you see them as a friend or an enemy, changes people's lives. And I believe that God is using us to help bring His kingdom to earth when we share love with different groups of children and try to help them connect what the Bible says with their daily life.
When I am overwhelmed with the problems and the heartache around me, whether it's from walking through the townships or reading about the untimely death of an amazing son, husband, and father over facebook (see my last post), this is the only thing that really sustains me, and even then it's challenging. Sometimes I still turn to God in anger that He lets these devastating things happen. But I am also beginning to piece together a picture of hope for the communities I've spent time in. I have the priviledge to work with South Africans who are passionate about letting God use them to make a difference in their own communities - people like Prudence and Phumla who want to point people in Mavhuza and Bambisana to Jesus and his message, and people like Lifter who leads a soccer team in Mavhuza where he teaches young men about integrity (among several other projects to benefit his community). My hope is that more and more people like that will rise up in the townships of Cape Town and across South Africa - people who let God use them to build sustainable change in their communities.
In the meantime, in the midst of broken glass, tight hugs, untimely deaths, smooches, tiny fists fighting, and ponytails, these words from Paul help remind me that God is at work in the beauty and the heartache:
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. (2 Corinthians 1:3-4, NIV)
Monday, August 26, 2013
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Lungs and Kidneys, Globetrotters and Marathon Runners
Death and healing have always been present in my life, but lately several events have made it hard to understand the pattern in which they appear. Does God orchestrate every death and every healing, or does He just let things happen? Is it His will that only some be medically or miraculously healed, or is it a result of the fallen world in which we live? Four situations in particular propel me forward as I search for answers.
A few years ago, God healed the lungs of an amazing girl named Akosua. I don't know how else to describe what happened - she had tuberculosis to the point where her doctor said it was like she did not have lungs. Then she met a pastor who asked if he could pray for her, and after he did she kept forgetting to take her TB medication but started to feel much better. When she went to the doctor again, her lungs were completely healed - even the doctor could hardly believe it. I met Akosua a few weeks ago while we did ministry together in the Transkei. She is full of life and passion for God, and I am so happy that He healed her lungs so that she could continue to live for Him and bless others. But the fact that God can and does heal miraculously has made it harder to deal with the times He chooses not to.
In 2011, my friend Lois Unger's kidneys were failing, among other health issues resulting from an emergency C-section for her daughter Melody Faith in May. Melody was born at 23 weeks, as big as a king-sized bag of M&M's. Miraculously, she made it and is alive, adorable and thriving, today. Lois, however, passed away in October 2011, only a few weeks after she and her husband Kaleb finally took Melody home from the hospital. God has provided for Kaleb and Melody, and I believe that He will continue to do so, but it is heartbreaking that both of them have to spend the rest of their time on earth without Lois. I know that God could have healed Lois - why Akosua's lungs and not Lois' kidneys? Was it really God's will that Lois die? How could He will such a painful thing? And yet if it wasn't His will, why did He let it happen? I still struggle to answer these questions, especially in light of two more recent deaths.
My grandfather Jim Potter was quite the globetrotter. He and my grandma Jo set foot on all seven continents in their travels, and I always loved hearing stories of the different places they'd visited. I also loved to take walks with my grandpa and listen to his insights on history. Sadly his health deteriorated over the past few years, and he passed away in April. I love my grandpa and miss him a lot, but I can honestly say that I feel at peace with his death. When I saw him in March, he mentioned more than once what a blessed life he and my grandma had. He died at the ripe old age of 85, surrounded by his family and grateful for the life God had blessed him with. It is sad to be separated from him for the time being, but the circumstances make it so much easier to let go.
Whether he was running a marathon or an evening of student ministry, Chad Rogers truly ran "in such a way as to get the prize" (1 Corinthians 9:24). I was away at university by the time he moved back to Liberty, Missouri and got involved with my church's youth ministry, but he made a powerful impact on my younger brother and his peers. Two weeks ago, Chad left his house for a run and did not come back. The entire Liberty community mobilized, some going out in search parties, others offering childcare for those searching, several maintaining social media pages to keep everyone updated. After several nerve-wracking days, Chad's body was found. I don't know exactly how he died, but the fact remains that his family, including his wife Sarah and young son Matthew Job, will have to live the rest of their lives on earth without him. Like Melody, Matthew will have to live the majority of his life without one of his parents. How could God let this happen? I prayed desperately that God would protect Chad when we didn't know his whereabouts, but Lois' death was always at the back of my mind - if God did not save Lois, how could I ask him to save Chad?
Shortly before Chad was found, I stood in the Indian Ocean and wrestled with God. While I marveled at the way the water drops look like diamonds, I asked myself, "Why is God good?" The answer I eventually reached was, "Because He loves unconditionally." I still believe that God loves Lois and Kaleb and Melody and Chad and Sarah and Matthew and everyone else who has lost someone dear to them. I still believe that God will provide for Lois' family and Chad's family, and that He will be sufficient for Melody and Matthew. Yet I struggle with how such devastating deaths could be part of God's will, especially when He has the power to stop them. My conversation with God went something like this:
"HOW could Lois' death be Your will, God? How could You will so much pain? But You could have healed Lois and You chose not to, so does that mean it was Your will? Well if it was Your will, Your will sucks!"
"Matthew's middle name is Job. You took everything away from Job! Are you going to take Matthew's father away from him?"
Not a very respectful way to talk to the creator of the universe, and I am trying to humble myself more before Him. But that is honestly how I felt, and sometimes how I still feel. Rationalizations don't really help - "Oh, they're in a better place," "Maybe God was saving them from an even worse death," etc. Nothing eliminates the pain of being separated from those who die, whether it is suddenly or peacefully. Being in Africa has exposed me to so many stories of healing like Akosua's, and that makes it even harder for me to understand why God only postpones death sometimes. But my dad (richardmpotter.wordpress.com) brought up a good point the other day - if God healed everyone who got sick or injured, would that increase our faith? Would it cause us to be more dependent on Him? I think it would cause us to feel entitled.
So maybe I'm closer to understanding why God sometimes chooses to postpone death, but I still don't understand how He chooses in each situation. Maybe I never will. Sometimes I still feel angry at God, but I also still believe that He will provide. And, even in the pain, I have seen God's love shine through those who reach out to comfort and serve the families of Lois and Chad. And that has to be good enough for now.
A few years ago, God healed the lungs of an amazing girl named Akosua. I don't know how else to describe what happened - she had tuberculosis to the point where her doctor said it was like she did not have lungs. Then she met a pastor who asked if he could pray for her, and after he did she kept forgetting to take her TB medication but started to feel much better. When she went to the doctor again, her lungs were completely healed - even the doctor could hardly believe it. I met Akosua a few weeks ago while we did ministry together in the Transkei. She is full of life and passion for God, and I am so happy that He healed her lungs so that she could continue to live for Him and bless others. But the fact that God can and does heal miraculously has made it harder to deal with the times He chooses not to.
In 2011, my friend Lois Unger's kidneys were failing, among other health issues resulting from an emergency C-section for her daughter Melody Faith in May. Melody was born at 23 weeks, as big as a king-sized bag of M&M's. Miraculously, she made it and is alive, adorable and thriving, today. Lois, however, passed away in October 2011, only a few weeks after she and her husband Kaleb finally took Melody home from the hospital. God has provided for Kaleb and Melody, and I believe that He will continue to do so, but it is heartbreaking that both of them have to spend the rest of their time on earth without Lois. I know that God could have healed Lois - why Akosua's lungs and not Lois' kidneys? Was it really God's will that Lois die? How could He will such a painful thing? And yet if it wasn't His will, why did He let it happen? I still struggle to answer these questions, especially in light of two more recent deaths.
My grandfather Jim Potter was quite the globetrotter. He and my grandma Jo set foot on all seven continents in their travels, and I always loved hearing stories of the different places they'd visited. I also loved to take walks with my grandpa and listen to his insights on history. Sadly his health deteriorated over the past few years, and he passed away in April. I love my grandpa and miss him a lot, but I can honestly say that I feel at peace with his death. When I saw him in March, he mentioned more than once what a blessed life he and my grandma had. He died at the ripe old age of 85, surrounded by his family and grateful for the life God had blessed him with. It is sad to be separated from him for the time being, but the circumstances make it so much easier to let go.
Whether he was running a marathon or an evening of student ministry, Chad Rogers truly ran "in such a way as to get the prize" (1 Corinthians 9:24). I was away at university by the time he moved back to Liberty, Missouri and got involved with my church's youth ministry, but he made a powerful impact on my younger brother and his peers. Two weeks ago, Chad left his house for a run and did not come back. The entire Liberty community mobilized, some going out in search parties, others offering childcare for those searching, several maintaining social media pages to keep everyone updated. After several nerve-wracking days, Chad's body was found. I don't know exactly how he died, but the fact remains that his family, including his wife Sarah and young son Matthew Job, will have to live the rest of their lives on earth without him. Like Melody, Matthew will have to live the majority of his life without one of his parents. How could God let this happen? I prayed desperately that God would protect Chad when we didn't know his whereabouts, but Lois' death was always at the back of my mind - if God did not save Lois, how could I ask him to save Chad?
Shortly before Chad was found, I stood in the Indian Ocean and wrestled with God. While I marveled at the way the water drops look like diamonds, I asked myself, "Why is God good?" The answer I eventually reached was, "Because He loves unconditionally." I still believe that God loves Lois and Kaleb and Melody and Chad and Sarah and Matthew and everyone else who has lost someone dear to them. I still believe that God will provide for Lois' family and Chad's family, and that He will be sufficient for Melody and Matthew. Yet I struggle with how such devastating deaths could be part of God's will, especially when He has the power to stop them. My conversation with God went something like this:
"HOW could Lois' death be Your will, God? How could You will so much pain? But You could have healed Lois and You chose not to, so does that mean it was Your will? Well if it was Your will, Your will sucks!"
"Matthew's middle name is Job. You took everything away from Job! Are you going to take Matthew's father away from him?"
Not a very respectful way to talk to the creator of the universe, and I am trying to humble myself more before Him. But that is honestly how I felt, and sometimes how I still feel. Rationalizations don't really help - "Oh, they're in a better place," "Maybe God was saving them from an even worse death," etc. Nothing eliminates the pain of being separated from those who die, whether it is suddenly or peacefully. Being in Africa has exposed me to so many stories of healing like Akosua's, and that makes it even harder for me to understand why God only postpones death sometimes. But my dad (richardmpotter.wordpress.com) brought up a good point the other day - if God healed everyone who got sick or injured, would that increase our faith? Would it cause us to be more dependent on Him? I think it would cause us to feel entitled.
So maybe I'm closer to understanding why God sometimes chooses to postpone death, but I still don't understand how He chooses in each situation. Maybe I never will. Sometimes I still feel angry at God, but I also still believe that He will provide. And, even in the pain, I have seen God's love shine through those who reach out to comfort and serve the families of Lois and Chad. And that has to be good enough for now.
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