Saturday, January 10, 2015
Finding hope through heartbreak.
This morning I asked Ian what I should write today’s blog about and without missing a beat he said, “HOPE. Write about the hope that we saw as we walked around the farm this morning. It’s all so exciting, you need to help people see what we see even though they are reading it on a computer.”
Like many of you, in 2015 we are trying to eat better and exercise more. Exercise to us means walking around the farm. The “loop” as we call it takes about two hours and it is up and down rolling hills on gravel. (I HATE exercise), but we are trying to do it regularly and the bonus of the walk is seeing Project Canaan slowly and up close. It is truly the best two hours we spend together. Today I will share a bit of what we saw on today’s walk.
I will start with a story about a baby whom we HOPE will make Project Canaan his home in the weeks ahead.
This little guy was born on December 13, 2013. His mother died, his father ran away and then he was being cared for by his very old Grandmother, who is also very sick. The baby was found starving to death and was admitted to the hospital for severe malnutrition. We guess that his weight (at 1-year old) is around 6KG (13.2 lbs). As you can see from this photo, his skin is bursting and peeling off from the malnutrition (not to mention his diaper was a plastic grocery bag). He is severely developmentally delayed and can’t even sit yet. What does hope look like? It looks like this little one getting the treatment he needs to reverse his malnutrition at the hospital, then for him to come to the El Roi Baby Home and start his new life. El Roi sees him. Please pray for this baby and all involved.
On the lighter side of “hope”, I present you with a photo of the vegetables that were harvested this morning on Project Canaan. The fields are producing again and we are harvesting zucchini, patty-pans, baby eggplant (aren’t they cute!) and soon we will have green beans. Another wonderful thing about our “loop” walk is that we get to stop in to the ISO building, which is REFRIDGERATED!!!! :)
This next photo is one of my favorites. It is a view from the inside of The Oasis, which will be the new kitchen/dining/meeting hall for the “big kids” – with capacity to feed 200 children at time. The view is from the pass through window of the kitchen, looking in to the dining room, with the large window/door walk-out to an outside patio. We will have a stage inside for children’s performances and it will be home for movies, homework, crafts and family meetings. I CAN NOT wait to see this finished!! But even at this stage of construction it brings me joy and hope for their future.
The next photo is a view from the Kindergarten looking back to the toddler home on the left and Emseni East and The Oasis up to the right. It’s a beautiful sight and we plan to move 20 children to their permanent home at the beginning of March.
Last but not least, I give you the real Face of Hope – baby Seth. This little guy is HIV positive and has been very sickly since we received him after his mother dropped him in a pit latrine and left him for dead. He spent most of this past week in hospital trying to get several blood transfusions because he was severely anemic (due to a change in his Anti-retroviral medication). Yesterday he was discharged and he is home, sweet home.
Last Sunday our Pastor, Andy Stanley, preached a message called “Re:Solution” (http://northpoint.org/messages/resolution/the-better-question/) , which asked the question “What breaks your heart?”. Suffering children break my heart and I am driven to action when I see them. But I have learned is that it is through their suffering and through my own heartbreak, that I find HOPE… I find Jesus, and He is my only hope. Without Him we could not do what we do. Without Him, there would be no Saturday blog because there would be nothing to blog about. I can’t imagine a world without hope.
2015 is a year of HOPE and I am looking forward to being overwhelmed by His plan.
Live from Swaziland … hopeful in a land filled with hopelessness.