This #%@$ Just Got Real

Three weeks ago, our family was together at the Ice Cream Shoppe scoping out the flavors.  All looked familiar except one; its title so in-your-face, not to try it was an act of cowardice.  Stepping up to the attendant I put my money on the counter and ordered a dish of, “This #%*@$ Just Got Real.”  Hands down, best ice cream I’ve ever eaten. 

It’s day three in Haiti, and our mission team has learned the drill.  We’re welcomed by staff, get a quick orientation, then we go to work.  Something most mid-westerners do well.

                  

Today it was a smaller population of 20-25 orphaned children, most with some kind of disability.  There’s always a pause when entering a room like this.  We each take inventory of the children, noting carefully which ones are:

·      bandaged and will need a gentler touch,

·      sleeping, and may require us to be quieter,

·      sporting full diapers, and need a change,

·      runny noses, open sores, rashes, growths or other health-related concerns.

In less than a minute our team of 12 had paired up with a child and were busy changing, feeding, playing, cuddling…in short, doing whatever needed doing to make some kind of meaningful impact in our all-too-short time.

Showing us around the large compound her order had received as a gift from, “Food for the Poor,” Sister Matthias shared their simple, ‘if-then’ vision.  If they cared for the very least, then God promised to provide for their needs.  It was that passion & promise that sent them each day into places like the local dump and nearby slum to load up and bring back to Kkottongnae
those upon whom society had given up. From the gruesome pictures we saw, we couldn’t disagree:  they truly were, ‘the least’. 

At the close of our time and tour, she ushered us into the ICU;  a small, narrow space that was home to the most critical patients.  After offering what comfort we could, Sister Matthias then motioned us to a bed in the corner.“This man is dying,” she said. “His name is John.  Would you please pray for him.” 

The day had already been a full-on tug-of-war between heartache and hope.  Most of us doing our best at holding it together after absorbing multiple stories of tragedy and triumph.  This request though, took us to a whole new level.  Circling his bed, we held hands and thanked God for the special blessing of this brother in Christ; a precious and much-loved son of the Father who would soon be held in the tender and loving arms of Jesus.  We marked John with the sign of the cross, kissed him on the forehead, then whispered in his ear, “God in peace. Go with God.” 

Thanks to God’s promise of unconditional love, we know that is exactly what John did.  And in Christ, today, so did we. 

Pastor Ned Lenhart