Living between the extremes!

Now before I go too far, I will make this painful admission now.  We are among the richest in the area in which we live.  Though we have not been to all the homes, I feel pretty safe in saying that.  This is not to brag at all, because I would venture to say that all Americans who have a job and live in a house, rental or owned, are as wealthy if not wealthier than those we live around.  Anyone who has been to a third world country knows this.  I felt like I needed to say that before going into what I really needed to say. 

We live in a town that is very much a mix of statuses.  Where we lived before, in the capital, it was a mix, but there were streets between those who had much and those with not so much.  Here is very different, because you have a hut essentially right next to a very nice house. 

On one side of us is a home built much like ours, with a cement wall around it, since it has the same landlord.  The husband is a doctor who travels a lot and has his own car.  His wife and children are there all the time and have a househelper.  The children go to the private Catholic school, not because they are Catholic but it is seen as a better education, which costs money.  They have a television and refrigerator, thus they have electricity, and they have running water.  They have nice furniture and are very comfortable.

Yesterday I was invited into another compound by a lady who lives there.  All I knew of it was the wood thatch fence and one of the young men that lived there.  As we walked into the compound, she went straight to the cement building in the center.  As I approached the entry way, I saw that there were four doors, each with it's own lock.  She told me she rents her room.  It was dark, because she has no electricity and the sun was going down.  I did not notice the well as we went into the compound, but I know there must have been because there was no running water.  There were no windows to speak of.  She invited me to sit with her on her mattress (not bed), one of two in the room, her only furniture.  She had a sheet hanging up separating her "room" from the "children's room".  She is a widow with several children.  She said she had no food for her family and asked me for work.  I found myself very uncomfortable and almost speechless as I sat in the most humble of surroundings.  She said her knees hurt, likely arthritis.  I prayed for her body to be well and that she would have peace, especially as a widow.  I tried to go a short time later to take her some food but she was not there.  Despite her situation, she was not embarrassed to invite me in to her home, but she did so warmly.

Even as I write this, I contemplate the humble entrance of our Lord into this world.  There was no mattress and no curtains.  Nothing but the hay for the animals.   "Away in a manger...."

More opportunities for prayer!

Well since I went into the details of trying to make visits to new homes and still make visits to the ones we have met in the last post, I will not revisit that here.  However, I will let you know, that often the person you first make contact with in a home seems to be your strongest contact and you get nailed down as a friend to that person.  Early on, like the first week, as we walked as a family, we found a home where there were men and women and children out in the street with whom we could talk.  It seemed the perfect place to stop.  It actually wound up being a combination of two households.  The one most interested in holding a conversation with me was an older teenage girl.  It was ok, since I needed the language help and she was willing to without wanting me to make her a paid teacher.  She helped me interpret from our other language, and I helped her with her English a bit.  But when it comes to making an impact on a household, we really want to focus on the older generations.  Plus, I would rather have a friend my age or same station of life.  But once again, a contact is a contact, no matter the age. 

Well on subsequent visits, the young girl was unavailable, out studying for school or something.  So I began talking to whomever was there.  Once it was the grandmother in one of the homes, who was so helpful by telling the names of everything that was around us, from things on the ground to the animals going by us.  Sometimes it was only one lady who did not talk much, but at least I was able to hear them talk some to the other neighbors as they passed and we talked about the children playing.

On Friday, it started out like that but did not end there.  The lady who was out front invited me in to greet the matriarch of her home and a lady they had visiting.  I greeted the matriarch, who I had met once before. (It made me feel better, because she did not remember my name.  I often forget theirs when I meet so many but get so embarrassed about it.)  I also greeted the lady they had visiting.  She proceeded to bless me and our family, though it was the first time we had met.  Then after a time I went back out side, so I could watch the children, ie make sure Mariama was playing nice.

After a while one of the other ladies from the house across the way came out just to greet me, before going back to what she was doing.  A short time later, someone from behind the fence was trying to get my attention.  I went over to greet whoever it was, and it was the grandmother from the previous visit.  We chatted about things for a while.  Then she shared with me how she had broken her hip 9 months ago and that it still hurts so much.  It hurts when she lies down and she has to use a cane to walk.  She had never shared any of this with me before, and I had just figured it was normal old age.  I took the opportunity to pray with her, for which she was very grateful.  Open doors with a woman of influence, praise Him!  Ask the Father to provide more open doors and the opportunity to share more with these homes.  Ask the Father to give her relief from her pain, so that she can rest better, and may she know it is Him.