We Don't Have A Clue...

In preparation for my trip to Haiti, I've been doing some Googling, trying to learn as much as I can about what's going on there and the challenges faced.  Although I've been following a few missionaries' blogs since last year before John Wesley went, I have found a few more that I am learning from recently.  And I'm learning that I respect the Haitian people and their spirit more than I can say.

Take a look at this post.   http://haitirescuecenter.wordpress.com/2010/03/20/new-children-admitted-this-week-3/   Reading this makes me ashamed that I've ever complained that I had to drive the 4 1/2 hours to Cincinnati for my kids' appointments.  At least I get to drive a car on good roads.  If I had to CARRY my child and WALK the whole way, would I bother?  This medical missionary talks about parents, who hear they are going to be holding a clinic, walking and carrying their children for serveral hours, some for up to 2 days over rough terrain and up steep mountain passes in order to reach their clinic.  That is LOVE.  That is hard work.

This same site has a few other posts that detail different cases that they've encountered.  They have a center focused primarily on meeting the needs of children with "kwashiorkor" which is a specific type of malnutrition.  They talk about having treated over 108 children (during a specific time frame) for this disease.  Of those 108 children, there were some who were still being treated at the time of the writing, and they had already been able to treat 71of them and send them home healthy (relatively).  But 21 of the children had died.  DIED...of malnutrition.  We have no clue. 

How do you watch a child die because of a lack of nutrition?  HOW--when you know that just across the ocean, just a short plane ride away, there is plenty to be had?  Plenty thrown away every day.  Plenty that has been thrown away by restaurants because it had set out for 5 minutes longer than it should to satisfy "freshness" standards?  Plenty that has been scraped into the trash cans by those of us who wrinkle our noses at the perfectly good food piled too high on our plates and don't think twice about throwing it away.  Plenty that sits in our cabinets or in our refrigerators.  And we don't even comprehend how really wealthy we are...how blessed we are.

I'm not saying "how do they watch them die" in an accusing manner, as if they are callous--they're not.  I just mean, how do these people--these medical missionaries--wrap their minds around the injustice--indeed, how do WE?  Once we KNOW these things are happening, how do we continue our happy, comfortable little lives and not DO something about it?  Are not those sweet children every bit as precious as the ones I tuck into bed with full bellies every night?   Are they not equally beautiful and unique creations of our Heavenly Father--created in HIS very image?  Are we truly caring about and serving the LEAST OF THESE?  When we look into their faces, are we not seeing the face of Jesus looking back at us?  Or is that it, that we are refusing to really see them at all because it is too painful.  Because seeing means feeling their pain, and that would mean upsetting our comfortable lives. 

I'm talking to myself here, not passing judgment on the rest of the world.  I'm just as guilty of assuming someone else is taking care of business and I don't need to worry about it.  You know, "Oh, poor babies, I'm so glad the missionaries are over there taking care of them."  Well, guess what I'm finding out?  It's not enough.  Yes, missionaries ARE doing wonderful things, making very real differences in the lives of the people they are serving.  But still, there are 21 out of 108 children who died during a SHORT span of time just because they DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH TO EAT!!!!  That is wrong.

Reading these stories has given me a fresh appreciation for the comparative wealth that we live in here in the states.  But it has also given me a burden that I'm not sure how to carry.  I don't know what to do with it.  I don't know how to make a difference except to pray.  It is almost discouraging, as I am realizing how nearly insignificant a single week of my time will be.  Not that I had expected to fix all of Haiti's problems while I was in town, or anything, I am a LITTLE more realistic than that, but you know...you go on a mission trip with hopes of being able to help out at least a little.  And, I know, we will...we WILL accomplish things that need to be done, but my heart aches for those bigger issues that can't be addressed in a week, or even months and possibly not even years.   I long to be able to have more of myself to pour out in service.  No, not more of myself, more of Jesus, because it is only in Him that Haiti's true healing can be found.