Joy
May 7th, 2009. Published under thoughts and questions. 1 Comment.
The other day I experienced two raw and opposite emotions back to back.
As I was going around downtown trying to set up meetings for Bob’s upcoming trip, I realized I was near a salon where one of my “daughters” (I can’t really call her a daughter though considering she’s 3 years younger than me) has been doing vocational training. I always try to stop and say hi to friends or people I know whenever I can, because it really means a lot to them. One of the aunties told me once that when you don’t have visitors, you don’t feel loved, but when people come to see you, you know you are loved! So I always try my best to make time to see people when I’m in their area.
Anyways, I walked into the small salon and Sarah (not her real name) saw me and ran over to greet me and we sat and talked for a while. The home she stays at is a home myself and others have befriended and supported in any way we can. The ladies in the home decided it was time to resettle some of the girls, the ones best capable of making it either on their own or with their families. The resettlement day when they are leaving is today. As we talked I knew Sarah was depressed and not excited about leaving. At one point she leaned in and just started crying into my shoulder. I did my best to hug and comfort her, but I didn’t know what to say. Here was a girl who came from the streets, was brought into the home and had her life completely turned around. Now she has to go back out on her own. Her life will be difficult, she’ll no longer have the support of her sisters or “mommy” in the home, and she’s realizing it. She has to support herself now. Obviously the organization is going to help her get started, but her life will never be the same as it has been for the last 3 years.
I say all this in full support of the resettlement, without it people like Sarah will be dependent on an organization for the rest of their lives. Sarah is at a point where she is mature enough to not be in the home anymore… its just sad for her to leave and sad to see her go. After doing my best to cheer her up, I talked about what she had to look forward to and how happy she should be to have been blessed with living in the home. I left sad to know I wouldn’t be seeing her much anymore, sad for her, knowing life would be much more difficult in the weeks to come, but trusting that God was watching over her and knowing things would work out.
After leaving there I went to the remand home to meet with the wardens. They had been telling me they had more kids who needed help so I wanted to find out more information. The main problem was the only girl they had waiting for the High Court. She had been in the home for 5 months and never brought before the court because her district was really far away and they lacked money to buy fuel to take her. I asked them to draw up a budget and said I’d get back to them. Before I left the girl came into the room and I was able to meet her. She knelt next to us (as is custom) and looked at the ground solemnly. The warden introduced me and told her we were going to see if we could help get her before a judge and she immediately looked up, bright-eyed and smiling. She covered her face with her hands to hide her smile as the warden laughed at her reaction and assured her we would do what we could.
I wiped the corner of my eyes as she left the room with a bit of hop in her step. I silently prayed that the injustice that had kept her in remand would soon end, and vowed to do my best to help. I too left with a hop in my step, knowing that that girl was going to sleep tonight a bit more hopeful than the night before.
That night as I thought about my day, I saw how connected the pain and joy I experienced was. I realized that the deeper the level of sadness or pain, the greater the joy will be. If I had been sad over a papercut or stubbed toe, then happy over its healing, my joy would not have been as great, I don’t know if I would have praised God about it. But seeing and feeling their deep sadness and pain makes the optimistic outcome all the more joyful and reason to rejoice. For Sarah its come full circle, her past circumstances were painful and sad for any human being. Then she entered the home and has been full of joy, having been transformed… and now sad and painful to leave the new life she has known. For the young girl in the home, she’s spent the last 5 months with no hope, no real reason to believe she’d ever get out and before a judge… but now she has reason to believe that day is approaching and she has a new hope and joy for her life. I don’t know why I write all this, I guess it really struck me the other day how connected the valleys and mountains in our life are.
kurt libby on May 8th, 2009
hey man,
exciting stuff. just hearing about sarah’s recognition of dependence on others, that’s huge. and i can’t even imagine what it would have been like to see that girl’s face. at jesus
time at nine on easter we looked at what it would have been like if we were one of three characters on that weekend: barrabas, pilate, and peter. i got the barrabas one off of a pastor’s blog (mark batterson: http://www.evotional.com) and i wrote the other 2. imagine what it would have been like for barrabas, stuck in his death sentence. the week leading up to it, the mental preparation for that night, and then he hears the crowds yelling ‘crucify him’ and he knows it’s coming. and then Jesus steps in and takes his cross and he goes home to his family. could you imagine what that would feel like? could you imagine how we would live if we actually believed we were doomed before Jesus took our place? i don’t think the word ‘devotion’ could contain the passion that would occur in following Jesus, owing him your life. i think that girl knows more about freedom than i ever will, and she hasn’t even seen the outside yet. your work is awesome out there. be encouraged.
here are those stories that we looked at. then we wrote out responses to what it would be like to say “i am barrabas, i am pilate, or i am peter”
I am Barabbas.
Imagine what that Friday must have been like for him. He was sitting in a jail cell awaiting his execution. He knew it was the last day of his life. It was the end. There was no hope. Then he hears the crowd chanting his name and the next thing he knows he’s a free man. The charges are dropped. His life that was almost over starts over. And a sinless man named Jesus literally takes his place. He expected to die. He deserved to die. But his execution, in the sovereign plan of God, was scheduled on the same day Jesus was arrested.
I am Pilate.
So he is faced with this decision. He can’t find anything wrong with the prisoner, but he has too much pride tied up in public opinion of himself to do the right thing. What Jesus says makes sense to him. But he still asks, “What is truth?” Pilate stares Jesus (who has already said he is the Truth) in the eye and asks what when he should have been asking who. Truth isn’t a thing to behold, it is a person, and his name is Jesus. Pilate was so close to Truth he could touch it. He definitely heard it and saw it, but he couldn’t reconcile prior commitments and responsibilities. He couldn’t lay down his career or his life for that matter. He turned Jesus over for others to deal with him. It was too risky for him.
I am Peter.
Despite his best efforts, he denied Jesus. He couldn’t own up to being a disciple. He wanted to. He kept telling himself, and kept telling himself, and kept telling himself that he was strong enough. After the rooster crowed, there was no denying what he had done. Peter had to come face to face with the fact that he wasn’t strong enough to do it on his own. No amount of his will power could undo what Jesus had said. Jesus also told him that he would build his Church on Peter. He destroyed the evidence against Peter when he put the ear of the roman soldier back on. Jesus had faith in Peter. And no amount of Peter’s will power could undo what Jesus had said.