“At the end of life we will not be judged by how many diplomas we have
received, how much money we have made, how many great things we have
done. We will be judged by ‘I was hungry and you gave me food to eat, I was
naked and you clothed me, I was homeless and you took me in.’ Hungry not
only for bread — but hungry for love. Naked not only for clothing — but
naked for human dignity and respect. Homeless not only for want of a
room of bricks — but homeless because of rejection.” ~ Mother Teresa
I came across this quote a day or two ago. It wasn't long after a somewhat heart wrenching experience in the Kipsongo slum. It hasn't left my train of thought ever since I read it. There's a lot of truth in those words. Along with that truth comes a hard look at our own motives and desires. After that inward look comes a time of reflection, and after the reflection comes a point of decision. I suppose to get the full picture of what all I mean, I need to go back and give you a little insight into what I experienced this last week.
On Saturday, Jim, myself, Richard, and a team from Rosslyn Academy in Nairobi went into the slum to do some clean up work. We ended up bringing some of the children from the children's home as well to work alongside those kids from Rosslyn. I had been in the slum before and seen the looks of heartache and desperation on the faces of some that live there. I had seen the half naked children running around with no one seeming to notice what they were doing. This time was different. This time, I noticed Seeds Academy uniforms hanging on the clotheslines to dry. I knew that somewhere there was one of my sweet kiddos running around. I noticed the eyes of the children we passed searching for someone to take them away from the dirt and the smell and the chaos and get them somewhere safe. And then suddenly I felt a small hand grab hold of mine. Five tiny fingers wrapped around two of mine holding on as tightly as possible. I looked down and saw huge chocolate brown eyes and a small smile. The group stopped moving and began clearing an area and I totally expected the small kid next to me to run off in the group of others following us around. He didn't leave. He just stood there, completely satisfied to hold my hand and say nothing more. Then I had a chance to look down and study him. Beyond those brown eyes, I saw hair that has turned a sharp metallic color, a protruding stomach, skinny legs, flies swarming, and an ear that was leaking greenish fluid. By all standards, he was a mess, malnourished severely, likely infested with worms, and suffering with a nasty ear infection. Without help, that little guy's life may not be very long. I knew that for sure. I wanted to run back to the school, grab the medications I could to help him, and at least know that in some way I gave him a little bit longer of a life. That's when the reality of it all set in.
Helping one child is great, but what about the others that are in the same or worse situations? What about the adults suffering? How do I pick and choose who to help and who to let fend for themselves? The reality of the situation is this, if I get the medication for one child I am opening Pandora's Box. The needs are endless. The needs are real, but I can't fix it all. I can't save them all. The best I can do for now is to open my eyes to the needs around me and do what I can with what I have got where I am. Sometimes that means dosing out medication to a child at school who is sick. Sometimes it means putting money in with other people to help a community or group in need. Sometimes it means hitting my knees in prayer and letting God sort out the rest.
The toughest dose of reality for this missionary girl was seeing that little guy holding on so tightly and realizing that no matter what I did for him, it would only be temporary. Sure we could give him the medicine that would clear up the ear infection, this time. Sure we could even give him the medication to deworm him, this time. There's no guarantee that his guardian would give him the medicine as he needed it until he was well. The medicine would fix the problem this time, but what about a few weeks from now when the worms returned or there was another infection? It is all too easy to turn a kind deed into a never ending cycle of giving that fails to resolve the true problem.
Doses of reality are toughest in these kinds of situations I think, and then that still small voice creeps in and reminds me of what I am doing. I noticed that sick boy and for the short time I was with him, I showed him all the love I could. It wasn't much, but it was something. God isn't looking for perfect people to do things for Him. All He's looking for is a willing servant to be where He wants them available to do whatever is asked of them. I wonder sometimes if when we are dirty in our sins if we look something like a child in the Kipsongo slum to God. He sees past our dirty exterior into our hearts. Perhaps if we took the time to see others like that, we'd begin to see some changes in the world.
