Not So Brave......

My friend's daughter and I went to go visit our little Pendo yesterday.  Pendo had not been doing well for several months, and over the past few days she had declined pretty rapidly.  As we were walking to the hospital, I mentioned to my friend's daughter, Morrie, how the walk to the hospital to find out if a patient has died is one of the worst walks I'll ever take.  It's never a pleasurable thing to see if you will be walking into a room to find a suffering patient, or an empty bed.  We found Pendo's bed empty.  I didn't even need to ask the nurses; I knew she was dead.  Although I am grieving the absence of this beautiful and spirited child, I am so grateful that God answered our prayers and that sweet baby isn't suffering anymore.  The progression of her illness and death was by far the worst I have ever seen; even worse than my father's death.  I remember the day Pendo and I met.  She was fighting to get out of the cancer ward, and eventually she was fighting me as I held her and prayed for God to give her peace.  At that moment, I saw all of her fear and anger leave her, and it never returned.
During the last few months of her life, she was in a tremendous amount of pain.  I couldn't touch her anywhere on her body that didn't make her wince in agony, and eventually it was difficult for her to even lie in bed.  The only place I could touch her that didn't cause her pain was the top of her head.  I swear, I must have rubbed a bald patch on the child's head!
The thing I'm most grateful for is that she died feeling and knowing she was loved.  I didn't see her the day she died.  I was thinking about going that day, but I was so emotionally and spiritually tired that I had to stay home and rest.  I did manage to see her the day before she died.  She was in and out of consciousness, and wasn't aware of her surroundings.  She was also hallucinating, much in the same way my father was shortly before he died.  Shortly before I left her, God blessed Pendo with a very brief moment of clarity.  She emerged quite suddenly from wherever she had been.  She was conscious and aware of her surroundings, and was able to ask for water and juice.  I used those moments to tell her over and over that God loved her, her friends and family loved her, and I loved her.  I'm so grateful the last thing I said to her was that I loved her.
It's funny.  Despite the fact that my heart is sad today, I am able to rejoice in all the blessings God provided wrapped up in my experiences with the little girl.  And even though I am sad, I can still fell God's love all around me.  His love is a warm and comfortable blanket for me today.  I can be sad; I don't have to be happy all the time.  I can feel my feelings and be comforted by God's grace and mercy.
So many people tell me I'm an angel and I have a lot of strength to minister and assist children who are sick and dying in making their transitions from this earthly world into the waiting arms of the Father.  But oh, if you could just know these kids.  If you could just understand their courage.  They are the strong ones.  At the end of the day, I get to come home to a comfortable house, a full, hot meal a warm, soft bed, security.  The kids have to live day in and day out not knowing if the friends they are playing with today are going to be there to play with them tomorrow.  They are the ones who have to endure painful and frightening medical procedures all alone, with no comfort or support.  They are the ones who have to listen to the screams and cries of their friends as they go through the same.  They are the ones who have to see their friends lying dead in their hospital beds, and they are the ones who have to watch their friends being wheeled away, covered in a sheet.  They are the ones who have to worry and wonder every single day if they are going to be the next ones on that stretcher.
I'm not brave for working with these children; it is God's calling for me so my love for them and desire to support them comes easily and naturally.  I am the one who is so incredibly, incredibly blessed for knowing them.  I learn so much from them.  They readily give the purest and most unconditional form of love.  If I had one tenth of the guts that these kids have to endure what they go through on a daily basis and still have the ability to laugh, smile and find the joy in living, I most certainly would have accomplished so much more with my life than what I have accomplished up to this point.  My life changed forever when these kids came into my lives.  It continues to change my life for the better, every moment I know them.  I love these kids with all my heart, and I want to thank you for loving them, too.

Crying's for Girls!!!!!

Crying is for babies.  Crying is for people who are weak.  You don't want to let anyone see you cry because people don't like to be burdened with other people's problems.  Buck up.  Be strong.  These and other anomalies have been reiterated to children time and time again.  When I was a kid, one of my favorite things was the record, Free to Be...You and Me.  I remember one song in particular.  It was sung by Rosey Grier, who, along with being an ordained Christian minister, just happened to be a very talented football player.  The guy was huge, outside as well as the heart he carried for children.  The song was called, It's Alright to Cry, basically portraying that message.  It's alright to cry.  It's alright to let go and just let God.  How did we as a society stray so far from this concept in less than thirty years?  How did we convince ourselves, and then our children, that we must allow emotions to stay and fester inside of us causing so much damage, rather than spend an hour or so having a really good cry, thereby take a huge step in the healing process?  I'm not ashamed to admit this: I cry at least once per week.  Not because I'm depressed, or a cry baby, or a sad sack, or any other name that you might want to throw at me.  I cry because, plain and simple, my field of ministry is emotionally taxing.  And let's be honest, living in a foreign country can be emotionally taxing, too.  So my way of coping with the stress is to cry.  I don't need to be comforted.  I don't need to be told everything is going to be alright.  I am already comforted by the act of crying, and I know that everything will be alright because I have given it to God.  Don't ever be afraid to cry.  God counts and collects each and every one of our tears and gladly takes our burdens as our own, so that we may show His love, mercy and grace to those who need it.

Facing Your Fears (Even in the cold!!!)

It can be a huge misconception that the weather in Africa is unbearably hot most of the time.  We only have  have two seasons here: the rainy season and the dry season.  It does get hot, yes, but when you wake up in the morning, inevitably you are almost always faced with a cold day.  I'm not talking about a little chilly....I mean it's so cold you can see your breath.  I try to leave the house around eight o clock in the morning, right in the thick of the coldness.  Although the coldness can be more than I can bear at times, especially living in the hills, during the dry season I never bring any sort of jacket with me.  I rely on the fact that, within an hour or two, the sun will brighten and warm everything around me, and I won't need it. And 99.9% of the time, I am right.  The sun comes out, everything is warm, and I don't have the extra load of carrying around something I don't need.

How many of us are carrying around things we don't need?  Things we are afraid to give up because of what "might" happen?  There is a lesson I seem to be in constant need of reminding.  First and foremost, my mind has the uncanny ability of immediately jumping to the worst case scenario, the magnifying it times twenty.  And things are never as bad as they seem.  Secondly, the things I'm carrying around that need to be laid at the feet of God are not the things I need.  I may think I need them but, when I am finally ready to lay my burden down, God shows me that the things I thought I needed were things I never needed at all.  In fact, these things were hurting me instead of helping me.

There is a major part of my life that has left an important piece of me broken. It has prevented me from fully sharing His love, mercy and grace He has been so desperately trying to give to me all these years because it has prevented me from fully receiving it. I have clung onto this part of my life for so long, it's become like a security blanket.  I almost don't know who I am without it.  Through my journey of healing, change and growth, God has, in His ever kind, loving and gentle manner, shown me the things I need to give to Him.  This part of my life has festered in my soul for years, preventing me from changing and growing in my faith.  Over time, I have used people, places and things to balm the wound, but it has never truly healed because I never wanted to give it up.  That is the only true way for the soul to heal: you must give all of your wounds over to the Lord.  All of your pain, all of your hurt, all of your anger, all of your resentment must be given over to Him, fully and completely without reservation or hesitation.  That is why Jesus died on the cross for us.  He gave us the incredibly selfless gift of not only dying to pardon our sins, but also to take all of our hurt and pain upon Himself.  He gladly takes anything we want to give to Him; but therein lies the key, we want to have to give it to Him. He won't take anything that isn't offered to Him. Even though it is incredibly scary, I'm finally ready to give all of my hurt and anger to Him.  I'm ready to lay it down at His feet and be done with it.  I know what harboring resentment and anger and hurt can do.  I've seen lives destroyed because of it, and I refuse to allow satan to destroy my life.  Whatever happens to me from letting go of the anger and resentment cannot be any worse than harboring it inside.  

Now, here's the thing; just because I don't bring a jacket with me, I always bring an umbrella.  Even if there isn't a cloud in the sky, an umbrella is always by my side because you never know when it might rain.  The same can be said for laying down your burdens.  When you finally let go, you need to take with you the shield of the Lord to protect you.  The desire of the enemy is to destroy anything that is a pathway to God's love, mercy and grace, including God's children.  Plain and simple: we just can't completely and fully give ourselves to others and be clear pathways of God's love, mercy and grace if we are harboring things inside of us that are preventing us from receiving God's love in the first place.  I tried that for years, and I know others who have as well.  Please trust me when I tell you, it simply can't be done.  We can have all of the best intentions in the world; but if any one thing inside ourselves is preventing us from receiving the complete splendor of God's love, mercy and grace, how can we expect to be able to fully extend it to others?  It's like giving someone an expensive present with the part missing that needs to be there to make it work,  and expecting the person to fix it himself before he can use it.  There is a woman in my life who has walked closely with me on this journey of healing this part of me.  On Monday, we are going to light a fire and put all of my hurts, angers, and resentments into it and finally put this part of my life to rest, once and for all.  It's funny;  I thought I'd be too scared and stubborn to want any part of it.  But even though I've clung to this part of my life like a security blanket, I honestly and truly couldn't be happier to throw it away, once and for all.

"The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer, my shield and the horn of my salvation,". Psalm 18:2  That's all any of us really need to know.