Wednesday, March 6, 2013

The Cross

I'm overwhelmed by the number of children in our program that our sick. Yesterday when we had our hotdog cookout I had kids pulling on the back of my shirt saying, "Ms Carrie, mwen malad. Mwen malad" (I'm sick, I'm sick) They have fevers and skin rashes and stomach aches. One little girl living beside me has a deformity that makes her walk on the sides of her feet. It looks painful. I don't even know how a doctor can correct that but they must be able to because I never see children like that in America. I look around me and see a hundred little tired faces with yellow hair because malnutrition robs you of even your hair color.
I get emails and Facebook messages from people everyday telling me what a good job I'm doing and how much I'm changing lives. Thats hard to believe, though. When I hold a baby thats covered head to toe in a rash and the mother tells me he can't sleep at night because the itching is so intense I'm helpless.  I pray the well will be dug quickly. I pray that we can start a consistent feeding program soon. Mostly, I pray that something so simple as clean water and food will heal my children.

I hate focusing on the problem. When I write my blog I always try to talk about the joys of living in the mission field. There are so many wonderful things about this country, but some days I wake up with a heavy heart that I just can't seem to shake.

When I am forced to walk away from a sick child without being able to provide the appropriate medicines I close my eyes and think of the cross. How can he forgive us for what we've done to each other? We live in a world where children die from lack of food and others die from obesity. Where scientist have created medicines to cure anything from cancer to depression but these people are still dying from diarrhea. Seeing the world this way makes the cross that much more beautiful. He died for us. All of us, as a whole. We have messed this world up to the point that it maybe beyond repair and he knew that was going to happen. But, still he went.......

How could I ever give up when I know that he didn't.

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