Top: This young man is the uncle of the two children. Their mother is dead and their father has left. Their grandparents care for them, but are struggling to provide food. Middle: This grandmother is caring for two granddaughters. She fell and broke her arm and will be unable to work for the next 6 weeks. Bottom: Nine people live in this grandmother's household. The mother of the two girls killed herself, overcome with grief when her husband died.
Hello, all--
What a day! Tony and I visited the Dai Loc orphanage today, plus four families in Tien Phuc--an area about 3 hours from Danang. We were hosting a group from CBN, here to gather information about orphans and talk with us about possibilites of sharing our work with their audience and contacts. We had to be ready to leave the house at 6:30 this morning, and returned home about 7:30 tonight. (Duc's wife, Linh, and Bee were here at home with the girls.) On the way home, I couldn't help but think of the day in terms of extremes.
First, it was extremely wet. Central Vietnam put on one of its best "rainy season" demonstrations with rain all day, mostly heavy, non-stop. Tony provided some heavy-duty rain ponchos, since the van could take us only a portion of the way to the houses we visited and we had to walk a good distance, probably as much as 3/4 mile at one location.
Which brings me to the second extreme: adventure! The walking was not your average stroll on a rainy day. We sogged and slopped up and down steep muddy inclines, waded through ankle-deep water that rushed over a small bridges and covered walkways. Tony and one other team member had to remove leeches that tried to hitch a ride to their feet and ankles. For one portion of the trip, we took motorbike taxis--too far to walk, but inaccessible by van. I felt like the ride was a cross between dirt-biking and demolition derby. We slid in the mud more than once and the drivers had some difficulty making the steep inclines while maintaining a safe speed. I might have been alarmed, except I really couldn't see much because the rain was hitting my face.
We visited families that have known extreme sadness, hardship and tragedy. Missing parents and spouses who have died or abandoned their families, survivors left struggling to feed too many mouths with too little food. Hunger. Houses with plastic walls, or open wooden slats covered with newspaper. One room for a family of nine that serves as living room, bedroom and dining room. Families torn apart by suicide, fatal accidents, or poverty that forces a young mother to seek work in Saigon, about 500 miles from her rural home.I would say we had an extreme sense of fellowship among the team. Different members of the Body, with specific callings and gifts, united in focus and purpose on this day. There was laughter and compassion and sharing and learning and caring together. We soaked and shivered together. All for one and one for all.
Moments were extremely touching. The smile of a child who sees their picture on a digital camera for the first time. The serious stare of a three-your-old, clinging to a small bowl of rice with one hand, and to grandmother's leg with the other. The universal pride of young parents in showing off their 5-month-old baby. The sigh of relief and gratitude as each family received a bag of rice, two large loaves of bread and some candy for the children--food for a few days. (Duc told us that some of these children have never had bread, so that in itself was a special treat for them.)
And now tonight, extreme thankfulness. Thankful for dry clothes and a hot cup of tea. Thankful for the little ones here to hold close and shower with kisses and words of love. Thankful for opportunities to see some of the needs around me and have a part in bringing help. Perhaps I can write more about the day some other time. Right now, I am...extremely tired.
May our Father of abundant, extravagant, lavish and inexhaustible grace show Himself to you in an extremely personal way.
