Need

How does one quantify need? There are many somewhat moral or difficult questions I face from day to day as I work in areas where war, disease and poverty have been, and still are, the norm. Among the questions I have faced lately has been the question of need. This past week I was tasked with finding around five thousand beneficiaries for hygiene kits (towel, toothbrush, soap, etc) we are hoping to distribute to families who have lost everything in this past years’ fighting. I traveled to an area north of here which has seen some of the heaviest fighting in the past few years and as we traveled through various villages and displaced placed peoples’ camps I began to wonder, “how will we know who best to give these kits to?” In the end it was decided we would distribute the kits to families who had just returned to their village for two reasons: 1) They were returning to empty houses or no houses at all and thus had very little physical capital to start living with. 2) It would encourage those still living in the camps to return home. But still, as we registered families and gave out ration cards, I couldn’t help but wonder about the need of those living in the nearby camps – was their need not just as great?
The question of need is one that is far greater than simply what I faced this past week. Is the person whose house just flooded in the American mid-west needy, or is it the starving girl in the Horn of Africa with flies on her face and buzzards overhead? The answer, of course, is that both are needy and facing the harsh realities this life sometimes brings with it. The difficulty is in knowing how to help both in their varying degrees of need and helplessness.
Jesus taught us to love our neighbors, and what a world it would be if we actually did just that. There is, and will be until the King returns, plenty of need around us each day; it is for us to see, and answer as we have been enabled. Some of us have the chance to listen to the broken heart of our neighbor, while others of us find our neighbors in the refugee camps of the world. All are needy, and most especially in desperate need of the King. We have the glorious chance to be his hands and heart to our neighbors.
The other day I was sitting in our vehicle waiting for some work to finish up when a small child came to the door of the vehicle and just stood their looking at me with his long face, sad eyes and puffy lips. He just stood there looking at me unblinking for around fifteen minutes; he didn’t even say a word (which is quite uncommon, since the children seem to find particular pleasure in running after me yelling Muzungu! Muzungu! – which means “white person”). I happened to be finishing up a small bottle of water so I handed to him and his face lit up and a giant smile crossed his face as he took it in both hands and walked away. An empty plastic bottle had made his day. Was the giving of that plastic bottle loving my neighbor? I think in some small way it was, in the same way I hope the hygiene kits we distribute will be filled with the love of Christ as people take them into their homes.

One final thought I have had today is this: While doing these acts of love to our neighbors is important, I have been reminded that more important than that is our devotion and love for Jesus himself. Far too often I get caught up in the act of doing and forget the one for whom I am doing it, the King himself. I read this great quote from Watchman Nee today and would like to end with it. “We could labour and be used to the full; but the Lord is not so concerned about our ceaseless occupation in work for Him. That is not His first object. The service of the Lord is not to be measured by tangible results. No, my friends, the Lord’s first concern is with our position at His feet and our anointing of His head.”

In the Volcano's Shadow

After spending a few days at home in Uganda enjoying the peacefulness of Entebbe I have now arrived in the DR Congo. My travel here went surprisingly without any difficulties and I am already quite busy with my new tasks. We are putting together ten thousand "hygiene kits" for distribution to internally displaced people(IDPs) in the surrounding areas
Goma is a beautiful town situated on the shores of Lake Kivu and bordering Rwanda. It has seen some of the most intense fighting in Congo's ongoing conflicts and in 1994 received a large portion of the Rwandan refugees caught up in the genocide. It is also a city rebuilding itself on the lava that flowed through the town from the nearby volcano in 2002. As we drive along we bump along over the porous rock and dodge the occasional puddle. It is refreshing to be somewhere where it is raining and green, especially after five months without any rain in Sudan.
I am continuing to adjust to the languages as my mind is inundated with Swahili and French; it can be exhausting spending the whole day speaking a language other than my own. Thank you to all who have been praying for my transition.

I will try to get some pictures up in the near future but I no longer have my camera and will rely on my teammates for their pictures.

Final Sudan Photos

Sudan Sunset


The View Above our Compound


I have been sleeping outside my tukol on this bed because of the heat


Innovative Loudspeaker


Crowd Celebration



Football Match


Our Compound


Decorated Bicycle



Ali our tractor driver.

Chronicles

Chronicles – the telling of life’s stories. I imagine if we ever bothered to collect and catalog our individual, unique stories we would have no need for fiction; we would have endless entertainment at the expense of ourselves.
I wonder at times what my life story would look like if written down to this point in the adventure. One theme, that I am sure would emerge is displacement. My life has been filled with displacement, sometimes of my own choosing and other times out of necessity. Displacement has shaped who I am in so many ways. I view the world through the lens of collided continents, tangled traditions and forgotten identity; through poverty, war, educational elitism, affluential idealism, and simplistic faith. My most feared question is, “where are you from”, and I am particularly fond of international airports such as Heathrow, Amsterdam and Dubai because there, more than anywhere else, I can see the worlds I know smashing into each other with paradoxal ease.
Displacement has also led me to place little value on material objects. There are those items I possess which hold sentimental value mostly for their association with one time of displacement or another but generally speaking I don’t take great stock in the things I own. I would be far more upset if someone stole my journal than if someone stole my camera or computer.
I am once again on the verge of yet another displacement and it is, as always, a time of reflection on what I have learned from my time here and on the uncertainties that lie ahead. I sometimes struggle to know what my role is supposed to be in places like this and in Congo, where I am headed. What I have been reminded of lately is that wherever I am, I am called to Act Justly, Love Mercy and Walk Humbly with my God. This is not always easy, but it is certainly a benchmark by which to gauge the work that I do. I pray that what I do reflects Jesus.

I leave Sudan tomorrow and will spend several days in Kenya before flying home to Entebbe for several days. Next week I will then head off to the Democratic Republic of Congo for a new set of challenges and adventures. Please keep me in your prayers.