Pages

Wednesday, February 25

Love Has a Name.


It seems like at least one time each night an SPCA commercial plays during our television time. I know that when the first note of Sarah McLachlan’s song Angel plays, my husband will be reaching for the remote to either mute the television or change the channel. He doesn’t care for the commercial at all, especially by the third or fourth time. Looking into those sad puppy eyes just does in him.

When I was a child,  I remember a similar commercial trying to raise funds for orphaned children. I don’t remember the name of the organization. All I really do remember is that it was filmed near a set a train tracks. I can still see some of the children’s faces in my memory. Orphans.  Starving children. Desperate for help. Longing for hope. Needing a way out. Each of them praying for an answered prayer to come quickly. So sad, and heartbreaking.

It wasn’t until many years later that I held an orphan for the first time. In his book, Radical, David Platt has this to say in regards to orphans and orphan care – “ We learned that orphans are easier to ignore before we know their names. They are easier to ignore before you see their faces. It is easier to pretend that they’re not real before you hold them in your arms. But once you do, everything changes.”  Allow those words to sink in. That statement is SO powerful, and I can promise you it is SO true.

As much as it pains me to say this (and I hope that this comment doesn’t offend any of my readers), I feel as a culture, we have become quite “numb” to seeing these nameless orphans. We have grown used to see shirtless children with distended stomachs. So much so, that I would be willing to bet that it almost doesn’t even register in our minds as heartbreaking. I know that I may sound harsh at this moment, but I am stepping on my own toes as well. We see clips of third world counties on the news and don’t fully feel the “pang” that poverty should bring to our souls. What if we knew the name of each child living in poverty that we were exposed to? Would they seem more real to us? Would the reality of poverty be more real to you if you could snuggle with one of these precious children? The answer to all of those questions is yes. I know that it is the answer, because I have been there. I have heard the names of “the least of these” children and I have snuggled them in my arms, or spun them around in circle as we have danced.

They all have a name. They are NOT the nameless – even though sometimes it may feel that way. They not only have a name, but they have a purpose. Today I was given the opportunity to help be a apart of one of these children’s purpose.

My Haiti-sister, Paige tagged me a post from a young man named Luke who recently returned from a trip to PAP, Haiti. In Luke’s post he told the story of Nixon, who lives a top Cha-Cha Mountain. Luke was working on the building project that Haiti Under God has been working on for a few years on the mountain – and it is looking wonderful! Cha-Cha is such a fun place to be. I remember having a blast with the children the trip that the team I was with travelled up Cha-Cha, and Luke’s experience seemed to be very similar.
While fellowshipping with the children, Luke met a very special boy named Nixon. Nixon lost his mother to a complicated sickness when he was a young boy, and his father in the PAP earthquake in 2010, so he now lives with his elderly grandmother. I doubt that any of us can truly understand the level of poverty that Nixon and his grandmother face each day.  Because of the starvation and malnourishment that he has been subjected to, Nixon’s skin is cracked, and his stomach is bloated. He has also had delayed growth development – looking several years younger than that age he is (12 years old). 

Thankfully, God placed Luke and Nixon’s paths together so that Luke could help tell Nixon’s story. Pastor Maxeau, one of our trusted connections in Haiti, stays in contact with the people of Cha-Cha Mountain, and has offered to take Nixon to PAP (probably a 5 hour trip from Cha-Cha, including time spent walking/riding a donkey down the mountain) to have him medically checked.  It is feared that Nixon may have worms, among other things, that need to be treated ASAP.  Maxeau has also offered to help purchase food and/or livestock for the family so they can become sustainable livers. Nixon was given the opportunity to attend school for the first time this year (he is starting in K-5), and he also attends church on Cha-Cha.
As we all know, getting things like this accomplished takes money. I am asking you to prayerfully consider choosing to be a part of helping Nixon achieve his purpose in life, by helping meet some of the basic needs that he and his grandmother have. If you feel a tug on your heart to help Nixon, donations can be made on Haiti Under God’s website at www.haitiundergod.org (put Nixon in the donation designation area, and 100% of the funds will go towards Nixon’s care). If would like to hear more about Nixon’s story, contact Luke at LukeSteen123@gmail.com .







These are pictures of orphans. Of scenes that we all may have become used to seeing – never wondering these children’s names. But they have names. Nixon has a name. Sema has a name. But most importantly, love has a name, and that name is Jesus. Show love today. Show Him today.

Blessings,
Hannah

Here is a link to Luke's Facebook if you would like to read more about Nixon - https://www.facebook.com/luke.steen.7.

Sunday, February 22

To Choose Blindness or Love?


Tonight (this morning?) my heart is heavy. I don’t know that I have the exact words to tell you why. Honestly, I am not even completely sure why. But it is.

About a month ago, Drew and I watched a movie titled The Good Lie. It told the story of Sudanese children who were orphaned as a result of war, and their journey to find a better life. I wept during this movie. My heart was broken over what these children had to endure. But, the next day, I went back to normal life. My heart still feeling heavy, but the orphaned children of Africa feeling so far away.

A few weeks ago, Drew and I went to see the Watoto Children’s Choir from Uganda perform in Beaufort.  The children put on a great show, and I am glad we went. I am thankful, not only because I enjoyed the show, but because of the conversation it sparked in the car on our way back home. I am so blessed to have a husband who may not completely understand my heart, but supports my desire to show His heart. But, yet again, a few days later, the heaviness that I felt for these children was swept to the side for the busyness of my own daily routine.

A few nights after we saw the children’s choir, a documentary came on ETV about child slavery. The first segment was about Haiti. If you’ve read my blog before, you know that I have a heart for missions, and that God has given me a passion for missions. That passion started in Haiti. I sat on the couch, in our nice brick home and felt a tear hit my cheek for the children of Haiti. For the restaveks – child slaves – of Haiti.  I was feeling yet another familiar urge to find a way to help, but again, the urge faded away as it was lost in the shuffle of life.

Last Friday Pulse Dance Company from Claflin University did a show at CCHS. It was wonderful! The first part of the show was a tribute to African-American dance inspirations, and for the second part of the show, they did a few dance scenes from The Lion King (yes, Drew, I contained myself). The third song they danced to was Glory by John Legend. I hadn’t heard the song before, but many of the students recognized it from a movie, Selma, that was recently released (a few weeks prior they went on a fieldtrip to see the film).

 As the song began to play, I was surprised by the thought that entered my mind. This thought is the reason for this blog, and to be honest, at this moment I am typing this sentence to delay telling you about it. I don’t think I am ashamed of it. I don’t know, maybe I am. What popped into my mind as the dancers began to gracefully move around the stage to the moving lyrics was, “I chose not to go see that. I can’t take it.” I chose to not go see the movie Selma. Not because the life of Dr. Martin Luther King isn’t important to me, because it is in so many ways, but because I chose to be blind to the reality. To the reality of the pain that so many African-Americans had to face.  I couldn’t stand the idea of sitting in a theatre and watching a story about the REAL LIFE hurt of others. I chose to not go see it. I CHOSE TO BE BLIND.

 I hate to see hurting people (I often fast-forward any sad segment of even fictional movies), but what I need to realize is that hurt doesn’t go away if we close our eyes. It may go away to us, it may no longer be a part of our reality, but it does not go away. Each day we all choose to be blind. Out of sight, out of mind – right? The starving children of Africa, the child slaves of Haiti, the hungry children in our own county, and so much more may not be in our daily line of sight but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t there.

Until we CHOOSE to open up our eyes, until we CHOOSE to see, we can never truly make a difference. If my eyes continue to stay shut, even if they open for a moment and then close again, I cannot do what I was put on this earth to do. I can’t show Him before allowing Him to show things to me. I have to choose to see. No matter how much my heart hurts, and no matter how overwhelmed by the brokenness of the world I feel, if I never choose to see I can never show His love.

I don’t know yet how I am going to make a difference, or how I am going to show the love of Jesus to the hurting world around me. But, I have taken the first step in allowing Him to use me. I am choosing love over blindness. I am choosing to see. I encourage you to choose the same.

Blessings,
Hannah

“I’ve been silent instead of speaking out,
Gave my advice instead of speaking love,
I have been unfair, faithless and unkind,
I have shut my eyes, just so I could stay blind,
It’s not what I meant to do,
‘Cause I want to honor You.”
 
- Make Me Over, Natalie Grant