Never Hopeless -- Hope Chronicles 77

Have you ever felt hopeless about a situation or someone else or even yourself? I know that in the face of depression I can feel hopeless. The fall, the coming of the holiday season always tugs me towards depression. I think it is that there are so many hard memories gathered up there. They are what the psychological community would call triggers.

I'm mindful of them at the moment. I am trying to choose hope. I suppose that is what the 40 to 40/Practice Gratitude posts are about.

But while I am mindful, I know there is a sense of desperation, of wanting God to zap whatever issue I am facing -- financial, relationships, health, and depression. I want it all gone. But the question rises up if I believe that God wants to heal those things in my life. I am discovering the heart of mistrust.

I came across this quote from Charles L Allen:

"When you say a situation or a person is hopeless, you are slamming the door in the face of God."

Ouch. I love metaphors, word pictures. The idea of slamming the door in the face of God is visually and almost audibly horrifying to me. It is most horrifying because I know that I do it.

Julie, my counselor, has called me on it at times. No, she hasn't used those words or that quote. However, at times she cautions me on some of the things I say like, "Why keep trying?" or "Things will never get better." Sometimes she cautions that God may take me at my word.

I don't want to slam the door in the face of God any longer. Rather I want to be the woman recorded in Mark 5:21-33 who reached for Jesus' hem, faithfully believing that if she reached out to touch him her twelve years of suffering would end. Jesus felt the power leave him. He stopped and asked in the great press of a crowd who had touched him? She comes trembling, probably sure of a rebuke. But Jesus tells her, "Daughter, you faith has healed you. God in peace and be freed from your suffering."

After 12 years of suffering, I would think that she would have to have felt hopeless. No doctor had been able to relieve her suffering. She must have prayed. She must have asked why.

What is so appealing about her is that even in the midst of the suffering she does not give up. She pushes through the crowd and has the courage to hope enough to reach out and touch Jesus.

I know several people I care about are suffering in one way or another right now. My prayer today is that each of us would not slam and not allow the door to be slammed by others in the face of God. May we keep reaching because God is ever present, ever reaching down to take us by the hand and either heal us or walk through that place of suffering with us. He never leaves us. There is always hope.

40 to 40 (Gratitude 4)

(Click graphic to find
out about 40 to 40)

I am thankful for my church. When I write that, I don't necessarily mean the building. I definitely mean the people. A building is just a place to meet. The real heart of the church is the people.

I started going to Crosswinds about five years ago. I had been having a difficult time and was angry with God. I determined that if I didn't seem to matter to God then I shouldn't bother getting up for church on a Sunday morning. This lasted about 9 months. Finally, in desperation I called my doctor's office. It is a Christian practice. I asked the nurse if there was a church they could recommend. They listed 3 but only 1 had a pastor's name attached. I called there.

I'm so thankful that God brought me there. I was as jumpy as a frog and prickly as a porcupine, but God used the people to really minister to me and bring some measure of healing.

A Child in Rwanda -- Compassion International

Heads up. This is not my typical post. It tells about my other Compassion child in Rwanda, but also deals a bit with the Rwandan Genocide in 1994. I hope you'll still read, but it is just very different from my other posts.

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As I write, the things I sent for Delia and her family are in Ecuador. My friend left yesterday on her trip. I'm praying that everything went well.


But I wanted to introduce you to the other little girl I sponsor. I recently received an updated photo. I think she looks taller in this picture than the last.





Kayirangwa is 9 and she lives in Rwanda. Rwanda is a small country in Africa. How, you might ask, did I get from sponsoring a child in Ecuador to sponsoring one in Rwanda?

Several years ago, I read a book called The Good News About Injustice: A Witness of Courage in a Hurting World by Gary A. Haugen. Gary is the president of International Justice Mission. It is an organization that works with victims of slavery, exploitation, and violent oppression. No, this is not light reading. But it is important reading!

I think I was gripped with the opening paragraph. He talks about making his typical commute one morning in 1994 and having the thought of saying to his fellow travelers, "Excuse me, friends, but did you know that less than forty-eight hours ago I was standing in the middle of several thousand corpses in a muddy mass grave in a tiny African country called Rwanda?"

What? 1994? I remember thinking that those things just didn't happen any more. I had consigned them to the Holocaust and World War II.

But they do happen, like most things of that nature, for little or no reason (or rather exaggerated reason). The Rwandan genocide was between the Tutsi and Hutu people of Rwanda. The Hutu militia and every day civilians killed their neighbors -- anyone of Tutsi descent or anyone perceived as sympathetic to the Tutsi. Most estimates of the death toll are 800,000 to the 1,000,000 mark. Supposedly, it was fueled by the belief that the Tutsi and Hutu are very different and with one being superior. Sigh. In reality, there is very little genetic difference. All of that death took place in 100 days.

Perhaps one of the saddest aspects is that the world looked on and did very little to stop the escalating violence. President Clinton apologized during his term. But it makes me wonder if it wasn't a bit like World War II. There were rumors of concentration camps but we didn't step in until attacked.

I was surprised by the book and my own ignorance of the situation. I do well to keep up on local news. Global news is hard to grasp. Still, I think I should do better.

Delia caught my heart because of language (I cannot speak it but I took Spanish in high school and college) and the relative closeness of Ecuador. Kayirnagwa caught my heart because of reading that book and that sadness that anything like that could happen so recently. It was only 14 years ago. At 9 she wouldn't have been born yet, but I am sure her parents were. What an awful thing to have lived through. What a difficult thing to heal from -- whatever side you were on.

I came across a 2007 newsletter from Compassion about Rwanda. It shares the story of Emmanuel. His mother had survived the devastation but had hardened her heart. How could God care if all of those things had happened? But Emmanuel was enrolled in Compassion and became a Christian. Each morning he knelt to pray. Still, his mother wasn't interested.

In 2006 there was a drought. His mother wanted to flee the country in search of relief. Emmanuel told her not to, that his Compassion center was providing rations to families affected by the famine. At first she didn't believe him, but he convinced her to go and see. The workers loaded her with rice and water. As a result of Emmanuel's witness and Compassion's practical intervention, his mother became a Christian.

That is how I got from the United States and Ecuador to Rwanda. I know that Kayirangwa likes to jump rope and play games and that she has chores. I do not know how she or her family might have been impacted by what happened. But still, I hope, that in some small way my giving to her gives her hope and healing for her family and the tiniest bit of healing for her country. I am thankful that I know a God who can multiply what I give and what Emmanuel's sponsor gave a million times over.

Now, if any of you know of anyone going to Rwanda, I'd love to be able to send Kayirangwa something like I did for Delia!