-You are awake.
-I am awake.
-I want to see you.
-Here I am.
-The mice ate my feet at night.
-The mice ate your feet?
-Yes, the mice ate my feet, and it hurts badly.
-You didn’t wake up when the mice were eating your feet?
-I woke up, but they had already eaten my feet.
This is a conversation I had with my neighbor, Sanda, yesterday morning while I was tending the garden. The mice have been a continual problem in his little house. We’ve talked about solutions, including getting a cat, rat poison and traps, but none of these solutions has panned out. Lendo, Sanda’s wife, wakes up when she feels mice on her and throws them to the side. Sanda sleeps much heaver. Unfortunately, Sanda’s feet are currently paying the price. The mice have managed to chew off most of the callous and have reached the thick pad of the sole of his right foot. Though difficult to believe, the bite pattern is certainly consistent with the chewing of a mouse. The thing I don’t understand is why he doesn’t wake up.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
The End of a Long Fight
While I was spending some unplanned time in the capital city, I received word that Yeye died. I’m not surprised, but it is hard to accept all the same. We’ve been caring for Yeye for the last three months. At her older brother’s request, we went to pick her up from her father’s encampment, and brought her to her brother’s encampment, just a short walk from my home. From the reports of her failing health, I expected to find a very ill child, bedbound and breathing her last breath. What I found when we showed up was a skeleton of a child, still able to walk, in spite of her severely compromised state. A quick physical exam confirmed our suspicions of tuberculosis. We expected that she would die within the week. She survived the week, though her condition was still very fragile. Each time we walked down the dirt road to see her, my ears were tuned, wondering if I would hear the sounds of the death wail as the family mourned the loss of her life. We started her on TB medications, which she could not tolerate at first, and I wondered again if she had any chance of living at all. After a short break for the sake of her weak stomach, we started the TB medications again, in addition to multiple other drugs to lessen her symptoms and improve her breathing.
A month went by, and I was amazed that her lungs, full of fluid, worked well enough to keep her alive. I was even more amazed that her greatly compromised heart continued to beat, though it was doing more than double the work it was meant to do. Her family, though they have very limited resources, cared for her the best they could.
Another month went by, and though we had seen slight improvement, Yeye declined once more as she fought the cold virus that was making its rounds in the encampment. We thought that this must surely be the end. Yet she survived even this setback.
Two weeks ago, Yeye’s brother came to tell me that she was hurting. I went to see her and found that her little heart had finally had enough. She had developed congestive heart failure. I gave her a shot of lasix to make her more comfortable and prayed that God would do his will in her life and in the lives of her loved ones. The next morning she looked much more comfortable, but she required a shot again that evening.
That night I was robbed and the decision was made to go stay with some other missionaries. On the way out, we stopped to check on Yeye. I told her where I was going and that I would be back soon. Though I didn’t expect that she would still be living when I got back, I wondered if God would choose to continue to extend her life, against the odds. He chose, instead, to allow her to die. I don’t quite understand His timing. He preserved her life for 3 months, but she didn’t live to fully understand the Gospel and its saving message. I know that God loves Yeye much more than I ever could and that He desired that she would become His child. I know that He knows best and that He does what is best for us. And I know that He is sovereign over every situation, even life and death. I don’t have to understand. I just have to trust Him and keep doing what He called me to do.
Please pray for Yeye’s family. Pray that they would see how God miraculously preserved her life during those 3 months. Pray that they would begin to truly understand God’s saving grace through the blood of His son Jesus.
A month went by, and I was amazed that her lungs, full of fluid, worked well enough to keep her alive. I was even more amazed that her greatly compromised heart continued to beat, though it was doing more than double the work it was meant to do. Her family, though they have very limited resources, cared for her the best they could.
Another month went by, and though we had seen slight improvement, Yeye declined once more as she fought the cold virus that was making its rounds in the encampment. We thought that this must surely be the end. Yet she survived even this setback.
Two weeks ago, Yeye’s brother came to tell me that she was hurting. I went to see her and found that her little heart had finally had enough. She had developed congestive heart failure. I gave her a shot of lasix to make her more comfortable and prayed that God would do his will in her life and in the lives of her loved ones. The next morning she looked much more comfortable, but she required a shot again that evening.
That night I was robbed and the decision was made to go stay with some other missionaries. On the way out, we stopped to check on Yeye. I told her where I was going and that I would be back soon. Though I didn’t expect that she would still be living when I got back, I wondered if God would choose to continue to extend her life, against the odds. He chose, instead, to allow her to die. I don’t quite understand His timing. He preserved her life for 3 months, but she didn’t live to fully understand the Gospel and its saving message. I know that God loves Yeye much more than I ever could and that He desired that she would become His child. I know that He knows best and that He does what is best for us. And I know that He is sovereign over every situation, even life and death. I don’t have to understand. I just have to trust Him and keep doing what He called me to do.
Please pray for Yeye’s family. Pray that they would see how God miraculously preserved her life during those 3 months. Pray that they would begin to truly understand God’s saving grace through the blood of His son Jesus.
Robbed in the Night
On Sunday night, the 16th of August, I had a new experience, something that is far too common among missionaries. I was robbed. Two men came to my bedroom window on that very dark night and demanded money. They claimed to be armed and threatened to harm or kill me if I did not comply. My first instinct was to pray. I prayed quite simply for help, for protection, and that I would say and do the right things. God responded by giving me all those things and by adding to it a profound peace. I complied with the thieves demand and gave them the requested amount of money, and to my relief, they left. I never saw their faces that night.
The next morning some missionary friends came to pick me up, take me home with them, and offered their hospitality for a week and a half while I debriefed and put some additional security measures in place.
On my birthday, the 26th of August, I returned with my teammate, Reda, this time with a borrowed vehicle and a night guard and supported by lots of prayers. I was surprised to find that even though I had filed a police report and the names of three suspects were known by the local community, no arrests had been made.
The very next day our friend and temporary night guard, Agustin, apprehended one of the thieves, Taya, a boy of about 16 years old. In this country justice is often served by the victim, so I was forced to take the responsibility of transporting Taya to the police station. While in town, we were also able to apprehend another of the thieves, Elese. After three days of detainment, Taya was released. Though he was involved in the robbery, he was not one of the two that were at my house that night. Another robber, and supposed mastermind of the crime, Mole, is still at large. All three of these men live only a couple kilometers from us, in a small community that we know well. They know that we are missionaries, here to help them, to bring them God’s Word, but they saw the opportunity to benefit from us by dishonest means and they took it.
Since the arrest, I have discovered that this robbery had been planned in advance, that the thieves were under the influence of both drugs and alcohol, and that I was a target because I am a single woman. I’ve also discovered that the justice system here is much different than that of North America. Much of the responsibility of justice and of physical protection is left to the victim. In fact, the victim is often charged court fees at the end of a trial, since the criminal will have surely spent all the money stolen before he is caught and will have no money to offer the court.
I’ve also discovered that all of my actions in response to this crime have consequences. If I were to simply let the thieves go, this would certainly have happened again. But since I took them in to the police, I now face unhappy family members who have threatened to practice sorcery against my immediate neighbors and who don’t understand why I cannot just forgive this violent crime instead of pressing charges.
Even through the repercussions of this crime, I continue to ask God for guidance and wisdom. I want to respond correctly to these people, who so desperately need to know Christ. I want to reflect God’s justice and grace, not human anger or vengeance. I pray that each one of these thieves would recognize their own sin and need for a savior, and I pray that their testimony would bring many others to Christ.
The next morning some missionary friends came to pick me up, take me home with them, and offered their hospitality for a week and a half while I debriefed and put some additional security measures in place.
On my birthday, the 26th of August, I returned with my teammate, Reda, this time with a borrowed vehicle and a night guard and supported by lots of prayers. I was surprised to find that even though I had filed a police report and the names of three suspects were known by the local community, no arrests had been made.
The very next day our friend and temporary night guard, Agustin, apprehended one of the thieves, Taya, a boy of about 16 years old. In this country justice is often served by the victim, so I was forced to take the responsibility of transporting Taya to the police station. While in town, we were also able to apprehend another of the thieves, Elese. After three days of detainment, Taya was released. Though he was involved in the robbery, he was not one of the two that were at my house that night. Another robber, and supposed mastermind of the crime, Mole, is still at large. All three of these men live only a couple kilometers from us, in a small community that we know well. They know that we are missionaries, here to help them, to bring them God’s Word, but they saw the opportunity to benefit from us by dishonest means and they took it.
Since the arrest, I have discovered that this robbery had been planned in advance, that the thieves were under the influence of both drugs and alcohol, and that I was a target because I am a single woman. I’ve also discovered that the justice system here is much different than that of North America. Much of the responsibility of justice and of physical protection is left to the victim. In fact, the victim is often charged court fees at the end of a trial, since the criminal will have surely spent all the money stolen before he is caught and will have no money to offer the court.
I’ve also discovered that all of my actions in response to this crime have consequences. If I were to simply let the thieves go, this would certainly have happened again. But since I took them in to the police, I now face unhappy family members who have threatened to practice sorcery against my immediate neighbors and who don’t understand why I cannot just forgive this violent crime instead of pressing charges.
Even through the repercussions of this crime, I continue to ask God for guidance and wisdom. I want to respond correctly to these people, who so desperately need to know Christ. I want to reflect God’s justice and grace, not human anger or vengeance. I pray that each one of these thieves would recognize their own sin and need for a savior, and I pray that their testimony would bring many others to Christ.
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