Too Much Loss

In the last two weeks, we have had two acquaintances lose their babies. One, a six-month old boy, did not even have a name yet. He died when his lungs filled with blood. His parents do not have enough money to bury him in a coffin, and so he will be buried, wrapped in one of their blankets. The father spoke with his eyes on the ground, his face tight with unimaginable pain. We gave him some money to help with burial fees, and then I promised to pray for them; the dad looked at me with pleading eyes. "Please do. Please pray," he whispered.

It was during these weeks that the attempted break-in occurred; the six-year old boy who had already lost his parents, who came to our house every day for an apple. It turns out that Chifundo had stolen from two of our neighbors, as well. It is terrifying to look at this child and think about his future. If he steals from the wrong house, he could end up getting very hurt. While traveling outside Lusaka, Joel witnessed an old man stealing from a grocery store. The man was caught and severely beaten in front of all the customers, including Joel. Last week, a man was beaten to death in the compound where we go to church. He had been trying to steal a car stereo when he was caught and killed. What can we do to help Chifundo stop making these awful choices, choices that could end with him being terribly injured?

What poverty does is horrible; it is awful; it is unimaginable for most of us. It forces mothers and fathers to bury their babies in a blanket, children to say good-bye to loving parents, elders to steal and face brutal beatings. What do we do about these things? How in the world can we stand by? We love people through their pain, but if we are not loving people in a sacrificial way, are we truly loving them at all? Shouldn't we give until it hurts, so that other people can hurt just a little less?

My language partner, a remarkable and loving woman, works at a clinic in one of the compounds. She is a nurse and a mother; gracious and wise and patient. And she cares deeply for Chifundo. Two days ago, she told me that the clinic has a Zambian therapist, who is there to help traumatized children. She was hesitant to suggest it, but she is going to talk to Chifundo's aunt. Perhaps he could go to this therapist? Perhaps he could get counseling and help? Perhaps he could slowly heal, and make healthier, safer choices as he grows... Chifundo has a loving aunt and uncle, and a community of love surrounding him. There is hope for him; I am excited about this possibility for healing and care.

I have had a stomach ache for the last little while; I just don't know how to process all the pain I see. But I do know that I need to do more; Jesus did not ask us to be comfortable. Jesus asked us to follow him, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to love the prisoner, to comfort the mourning, to work for justice. So we cannot sit in our sadness. We cannot give into hopelessness. And we cannot delude ourselves into thinking that this is not our problem. We have work to do. Together, all of us, we have work to do.

Without faith in a God who is much bigger than I am, I would be paralyzed. But I do believe in God. I do believe in God's power to do something; to do something in and through you and me. And so there is hope, there is power, there is healing. And it is time to wipe away our tears and step forward in faith, giving until it hurts, so that others will hurt less.

Please pray for Chifundo and his family, for the two families that just lost their babies, for the man who was beaten, for the man who was killed, and for our family, as we stumble along this path...Thanks for walking with us.