Thursday, February 24, 2011
Hearing the Voice Of God (Poverty)
I hate waiting so long to write on my blog, because my experiences pile up, and I don’t have time to write about every one of them. I’m just going to have to pick one. Well, I have honestly been lonely… not lonely for people, but lonely for people who speak English. It has, although, been an amazing opportunity (surprising one) knowing that I can communicate more than I thought in French. I have these random moments where I am just overwhelmed with the blessings that God has bestowed upon me since I have been here… the gift of tongues!!! I mean, that’s something to praise Him for right? Its absolutely sweet!
I was at my house the other week. I don’t know what it was about this day, but I just did not feel like being with anyone or talking to anyone. I forgot that it was Thursday. I’m supposed to teach a student of mine English every Thursday. I got up the courage to come out of my room to talk to him. As soon as we were finished, I saw a man at my gate. He was a feeble old man who had a young boy holding him up so he could stand. It looked like he was blind as well. This man was not in the best condition whatsoever. I went over to see what he wanted. He didn’t speak any English or French, but thankfully my student helped translate for me. He started saying something in Fulfulde with his weak voice, and Josias (my student) translated it in French. He was hungry and wanted me to spare some food for him. Since I was not in the greatest mood, the first thought that came to my mind was “great… if I feed him then I have to feed the whole village of Koza! I can’t do that!” I quickly replied that I didn’t have food, which I did but was not willing to give up. As soon as I turned around to walk away I was stopped in my tracks by the voice of God:
“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” (Matt 25:35,36)
I couldn’t imagine that verse popping into my head by any other chance but to mentally “slap me in the face”, reminding me that I am not here to be served but to serve. Before taking another step toward the house, I turned around and told the man to wait. I went into my house and rummaged through my fridge to find a bag of bread. When I brought it out to him, I was not prepared to receive the thankfulness he showed me. Since I knew that it was only the Lord who allowed my hard heart to be softened in this occasion, I took the opportunity to tell this man that it was not me he needed to thank but the Almighty God who showed blessings and mercy upon him by allowing him to eat. I couldn’t give glory to myself because it was only the Lord who stopped me in my tracks and changed my heart before I would have made a stupid decision. Praise God for the opportunities of humbleness in which shape and mold our characters into the character of Him.
There are so many poor people here. I am convinced that that is why they take care of each other so much… they are obligated. They can’t survive on their own. I have talked to many nurses in the hospital about the problem of poverty and sickness because of the loss of food. I am shocked to find out that every nurse I have talked to has had an experience one time or another in their lives in which they have had a fear of starvation or didn’t know when the next time they were going to eat was… Nurses who have a fairly good with decent pay. They had to go through suffering before they could have a better life. It is not America for sure. May the Lord support and provide the means for people to live here… it is such a poor place. I am confident that when the Lord comes to take us home, he will reward these people… especially in Koza. My life will never be like this… they did not choose where they were going to live, but they survive their circumstances. I am thinking of the poverty of Koza today…
Posted by Elissa
Letter from student missionary in Koza #17