hard lessons learned by a friend part 2
I've decided to post Sophie's last email, not because it's uplifting (although ultimately I believe it is), not because it's long (though it's at least a good 10 minute read), and not because it's easy (this stuff is hard for me to wrestle through). I'm posting it because I'm still chewing on it, and learning from it, and dwelling on it, and my hope is you can too. No spelling changes, no punctuation improvements...you're getting it raw. Here it comes...
Date: Tue, 4 Mar 2008 09:36:49 -0500
Things here in sudan have been a little crazy. surprise surprise right? the past few weeks have flown by like a flash of light. It all kind of started when the staff here asked me if i would be interested in going to school with Mori Luka ( the epileptic boy i told you about in the first email). Apparently the staff had been praying for years that God would send someone who could give Mori the attention he needs to succeed in school; and little did they know that my original major was special education. Excitedly i agreed, and began attending school with Mori as his personal tutor. Seeing Mori learn and grow has been amazing and its been priceless to see how God had been working silently in the details of Mori's and my life, to bring us together.
Unfortunately though, this wonderful opportunity to work with Mori, turned into quite the eye opener to what is really going on in some of these classes. Last year, any teaching our service team did in the schools here, simply had us visiting classes for a short period of time, giving our seminar and then waving goodbye. And it wasn't until this year, when i was placed in the middle of a class, as a sort of "student", that i was able to discover what is really going on in these schools.
So much of the problem with the war (especially in this region; with it being a main headquarter for the army) is that most of the children here are exposed to unbelievable amounts of violence day in and day out. Contrary to how soldiers in America are often some of the nicest and most respectable people you know, the soldiers here are typically crude, rough and almost always drunk. just the structure of this place is so different that being a soldier in this city-is like wearing a big sign on your head that screams- "i can literally do anything i want---to you". And with that silent but dangerous connotation of authority and domination, the solders here naturally become rather aggressive. And so- as i began to see in the schools, the young children being parented by these soldiers, are growing up with violence and aggression immediately engrained in them.
Quite honestly, the state of mind that i found so many children in, has been one of the most terrifying realities i have ever come upon in my life. i wish so badly that you all could just see with your own eyes, the looks of these children because its honestly indescribable.
After about 3 or 4 days of the students mistaking me for a teacher, or some foreign creature from outer space, they finally stopped giggling any time i sneezed or moved, they stopped staring so closely at my skin that i could feel them breathing, and i was finally able to just sit and observe; almost--- like a fly on the wall. Something that has been really hard to get used to has been the structure of the educational system here. Nothing is ever done on time, and very little is ever done effectively. School which was supposed to start on Feb 4th, started on the 18th. and classes which are supposed to start at 830 am, start at about 10. Enrollment is open ended, and so for example, my primary one class ( which Mori is in), which is probably on a plot of ground about 10x15ft, has about 100-130 students depending on the day. And when i say "class" i mean huge walking sticks propped up to hold a grass roof. the children all sit on rocks or tin cans and such. P1 class only lasts for half the day, and yet in the 4.5 hours that these 4-8 year olds are sitting in their class, their teachers only manage to pop in once or twice, for a 10-30 minute teaching session. After that, these untrained and under qualified teachers go back and sit in a teachers lounge and waste life, leaving 100+ hellions to themselves. but no one ever sees the chaos that breaks out when no teacher is around. and im almost convinced they would rather it be that way. The only discipline these kids know is from the class monitor, which is the biggest kid in the class whom the teachers give a switch to, so that he can whip and beat any child whom he thinks is "acting out".
And this is where the violence began. a tall young boy of maybe 8 years old, strolls aound the class hut with his switch ready in hand. the anger in his eyes doesnt even make sense. if any student so much as statnds up, he whips them with a force you didnt know kid could have. this bigger, orlder boy, squeezing his face, and cocking back his arm to gain enough power to hit little girls as young as 4. But unfortunately, he wasn't the only violent kid in the class. Over time, he was joined by them all.
Over the past two weeks, i sat, hopelessly, and increasingly depressed, in the midst of a chaos and violence i have never known before. these are children of course, but the only thing small about them is their size. the strength of these children is utterly shocking. and the anger and poigniency with which they attack and fight eachother, is like that of an adult street fighter. And these kids are fearless. Regardless of the size or age, the kids stand ready in the face of their opponents, refusing to even flinch at a swing, as to show their strength. Helpless and shocked, i sat in the middle of boys punching eachother violently in the back of eachothers heads; girls slapping eachother dead across the face with a passionate heavy hand. Kids thrashing rocks across the class, slamming another in the head. Even boys bashing rocks into kids heads, as if it didnt scare them or even occurr to them that pain, brain damage or death was possible. i dont know where these kids learned this stuff, but i know that it has been a really rough and scary time for me as im wondering...is it possible that to some degree, violence is innate?
One day a small boy was getting beaten by an older boy in class. the older boy was clearly winning. the older boy took the younger boys head in his hand and pushed it to the ground so that the boy was bent over completely. and with a terrifying calm in his body, the older boy held his head down with one hand, and slowly cocked the other back to knock him to the ground. it was almost like a really violent video game where the fighter takes a last moment to look at his victim and bask in his violent glory, before he finishes him off. only this was real life; with 6 year olds. ive watched children bash rocks into eachothers heads, boys kick girls in the throat, and kids beating kids for no apparent reason. i have never heard the sound of flesh beating flesh like i have in this place. the sounds of their hits have completely shattered the blissful illusion i lived in that told me that small children only carried small fight; if kids are fighting, its nothing serious- its not like they can hurt eachother right? wrong. that first week, even though i did try to stop as many fights as i could, i will admit, i took somewhat of a back seat. i was there as a tutor to Mori, and class discipline wasn't my job. whether or not i was there, it was their teachers responsibility to keep them under control. but by week two, i saw that this wasn't happening. And on my second Wednesday, i took the drivers seat- and set out for opperation calm down and control; or so i thought. i took over the job of class monitor and DIDNT carry a stick. tried preventing fights rather than breaking them up. and finally after 2 or so hours of waiting for their teacher to show up, i said what the heck, and i took some chalk in my hand, and started teaching. The kids loved it. We made up songs, clapped our hands, used jestures, and smiles were everywhere. their excitement for something new was jumping from their faces. The teachers they have now, walk in, whip a few kids, turn their back to the class, draw a leg and a foot on the board,draw arrows and write "leg", "foot", "toes", and walk out. without any interaction or explanation, the kids then attempt to copy down what is on the board.--- all the while, the children have never even been taugh what the symbols "l", "e", "g" even are!!! and thats school for the day. the teachers are horrible and lazy. And for those few moments, with the kids eyes watching me closely , with excitement and longing in their bones, i felt chills run through me. After a little while, i sat down so that their actual teacher would feel free to come and teach; and the waiting began again. as we sat and waited, another fight broke out- only this fight, would be the worse id seen yet, and for me it was the final straw.
A brother and a sister were beating a young girl. the sister tackled the girl to the ground and began punching her in the face while sitting on top of her. And as i rean to the fight, the brother joined in and lifted his leg to his chest and then slammed it repeatedly into the girl legs, crushing them into the ground. The little girl was being beaten into the rocks, and her fight grew weaker. i pushed the brother away and reached to try to break the two girls apart. but from behind me the brother kept kicking at the girls body. in utter disgust and frustration, i turned from the girls and pushed the brother back, but he fought against me and came back at the girl. so i grabbed his arms and pushed him harder. And in that very instant it was like even though everything was moving so fast, God froze that one moment for me, as the boy flew to the ground, and i felt God face on my heart, like--- "what have you done....?" Half a second hadnt even passed before i knew, i had pushed him to hard. the boy flew to the ground and stared at me in shock. that moment was quite possibly the most shameful and disgusting moment of my life. of all of the crap, and inpurity, lust, and sin ive been a part of, this moment, cut me deeper than them all. my insides froze and my mind went blank. i have never been so emberrassed to be me. by no means did i hurt the kid even half as much as they hurt eachother in all their little fights, but nonetheless, nothing about that moment felt right or good to me. still though the sister was beating the girl to the ground and so i turned to the girls and pulled them apart.
A teacher had heard the noises the kids made when i threw the boy, and he came to calm the class down. As he calmed the class, i stood frozen. on the outside i wathced carefully to keep the siblings away from the girl, but on the inside i was a broken mess. i felt completely disoriented. i had lost self control maybe only for one moment, but that one moment was enough to make me just as ugly and hurtful as the evil i was fighting against. Suddenly this idea of "me" and all that i am, was shattered and i realized how messed up I was too, and how badly I needed a higher power to give me a truly divine patience. i shook myself out of it and set my eyes upon the young girl; battered and bruised and scratched all over, she stood in a broken silence. the pain on her face ran deep into her body. not like the fight had hurt her skin or her bones, but that with every hit, a message was being beaten into her heart. that "this is the way of life. this is what you deserve, this is your value. this is the roughness you have to adopt into your own heart". watching this thought process spin in the minds of kids here has been absolutely heartbreaking. its like you can see thier minds slowly coming to accept that they too, must be this rough; its the only way to survive. and eventually, with enough fights, and enough beatings, they learn--- and the tears stop flowing. her chest pounded and her eyes spoke words of sorrow and pain ive never even known, and yet- not a single tear flowed. i spoke broken arabic to her, and hugged her tenderly..... i dont know whom i was hugging in that moment. this broken girl; the boy i pushed to the ground; ALL of the youth in this broken place who are attacked each day by lies of violence and hatred?; or myself? the person id most recently discovered, was allowing herself to take those same lies into her heart-even if just for a moment. i dont know who that girl was to me as i hugged her; but i hugged her tightly and closed my eyes, just wishing so badly that nothing was the way it was.
So many people here have just accepted this daily chaos and disorganization , as a part of life. they have lived through so much and now the life that has been beaten out of them has left them with a lack of ambition to change anything for themselves. they watch their children fighting and hating eachother, and yet, they too are too tired and discouraged to do a thing about it. everyday i struggle with the negativity and somber vibes that cloud the air in this place and am continually challenged to look to God for my joy.
My main prayer request for you at this point is for the situation of violence amongst the children here. I didn’t share the story of me pushing the boy because I was proud, or because its fun for me to admit how much of a piece of crap I was in that moment- but I shared it for two reasons. 1) is that I want to become yoked to the spirit of God. I want to take his spirit as my bounded partner in life, and just as it says in Matthew 11:29, I want to learn to truly be exactly what it says; gentle and humble. Two of the most beautiful characteristics. And my soul yearns to be that. And since I have to start somewhere, here I am- humbled by my need for God’s Higher Power to come and clothe me with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience (Colossians 3:12). My other reason for sharing the story- is in hopes that it would illustrate the extreme depth and seriousness of this problem here. I don’t know how else to make you see how devastating the violence was, without being able to show you for yourself. Sitting in the midst of that for just two weeks, was enough to burden and depress my spirit enough that iwas pushed to the point that I acted out of frustration. And so my request is not just that you pray for me and my patience but that you, and everyone you know, would take this need seriously, and literally get down on your knees and pray with earnest and steadfast prayer, until this places is actually rocked and turned upside-down so that a blanket of peace and compassion would cover this place; and that the youth would not be raised to hate, and fight eachother. Nothing in this place will change- and I truly believe this- until this whole world, gets on its knees and prays aboutthe violence in these children. That’s how deep this problem is here. Please, please, please believe me.
Realizing what is a reality in a lot of schools within post-war countries, made me sit down and really reevaluate what it is that I hold to be most important in life. I started wondering- why am I working so hard towards a mission that’s centered on education? Why am I preaching that if only we can put these kids in school- their lives will be fixed, and we can feel good? Why am I pretending that I believe that education will leave these kids feeling fulfilled at the end of the day- when I know that education was never what did it for me….
Why am I not centering my entire missionary service on the one thing that I know has given me true life?
ive always known and believed that ministry can be anything. You can own a bakery, and through the work of God, that can be your ministry. you can be mother and that can be your purpose and ministry. You can be a teacher and that can be your ministry. and i believe with all of my heart that each of us were designed to have different fields of ministry that are all equally needed. but for me, im feeling like, there is a stirring in my heart for a reason. there is a reason that something in ME doesnt feel right to put all of my attention towards education as my ministry; and i have to pay attention to the stirring in my heart to make a change in my overall focus of ministry. whether that will be more of a pastoral focus, or something else i dont know. but im listening to the spirit.
Fortunately the schools which our scholarship aid went to, are all much better quality and far more serious in all areas (teaching, subjects, and class time devoted to interactive lessons) than the one im telling you about today. But regardless, my eyes had been opened and if I could put it into words, id say it was like God sat down right in front of my heart, and asked me, “sophie, is this really what your heart beats for?”… and I cant say yes..
At the end of the day I know that education is good and beneficial regardless of whether or not it should be the center of life. And so im not doubting that what we did was a good mission. I just want to be honest with myself and keep sight of what really matters at the end of a day; at the end of a life. And for me----- that’s nothing other than growing closer to God. So I guess now the question is- how do I make that the be-all and end-all of my ministry.
Thanks for reading- until next time- eat losts of ice cream and fruit for me :)
sophie b.
Date: Tue, 4 Mar 2008 09:36:49 -0500
Things here in sudan have been a little crazy. surprise surprise right? the past few weeks have flown by like a flash of light. It all kind of started when the staff here asked me if i would be interested in going to school with Mori Luka ( the epileptic boy i told you about in the first email). Apparently the staff had been praying for years that God would send someone who could give Mori the attention he needs to succeed in school; and little did they know that my original major was special education. Excitedly i agreed, and began attending school with Mori as his personal tutor. Seeing Mori learn and grow has been amazing and its been priceless to see how God had been working silently in the details of Mori's and my life, to bring us together.
Unfortunately though, this wonderful opportunity to work with Mori, turned into quite the eye opener to what is really going on in some of these classes. Last year, any teaching our service team did in the schools here, simply had us visiting classes for a short period of time, giving our seminar and then waving goodbye. And it wasn't until this year, when i was placed in the middle of a class, as a sort of "student", that i was able to discover what is really going on in these schools.
So much of the problem with the war (especially in this region; with it being a main headquarter for the army) is that most of the children here are exposed to unbelievable amounts of violence day in and day out. Contrary to how soldiers in America are often some of the nicest and most respectable people you know, the soldiers here are typically crude, rough and almost always drunk. just the structure of this place is so different that being a soldier in this city-is like wearing a big sign on your head that screams- "i can literally do anything i want---to you". And with that silent but dangerous connotation of authority and domination, the solders here naturally become rather aggressive. And so- as i began to see in the schools, the young children being parented by these soldiers, are growing up with violence and aggression immediately engrained in them.
Quite honestly, the state of mind that i found so many children in, has been one of the most terrifying realities i have ever come upon in my life. i wish so badly that you all could just see with your own eyes, the looks of these children because its honestly indescribable.
After about 3 or 4 days of the students mistaking me for a teacher, or some foreign creature from outer space, they finally stopped giggling any time i sneezed or moved, they stopped staring so closely at my skin that i could feel them breathing, and i was finally able to just sit and observe; almost--- like a fly on the wall. Something that has been really hard to get used to has been the structure of the educational system here. Nothing is ever done on time, and very little is ever done effectively. School which was supposed to start on Feb 4th, started on the 18th. and classes which are supposed to start at 830 am, start at about 10. Enrollment is open ended, and so for example, my primary one class ( which Mori is in), which is probably on a plot of ground about 10x15ft, has about 100-130 students depending on the day. And when i say "class" i mean huge walking sticks propped up to hold a grass roof. the children all sit on rocks or tin cans and such. P1 class only lasts for half the day, and yet in the 4.5 hours that these 4-8 year olds are sitting in their class, their teachers only manage to pop in once or twice, for a 10-30 minute teaching session. After that, these untrained and under qualified teachers go back and sit in a teachers lounge and waste life, leaving 100+ hellions to themselves. but no one ever sees the chaos that breaks out when no teacher is around. and im almost convinced they would rather it be that way. The only discipline these kids know is from the class monitor, which is the biggest kid in the class whom the teachers give a switch to, so that he can whip and beat any child whom he thinks is "acting out".
And this is where the violence began. a tall young boy of maybe 8 years old, strolls aound the class hut with his switch ready in hand. the anger in his eyes doesnt even make sense. if any student so much as statnds up, he whips them with a force you didnt know kid could have. this bigger, orlder boy, squeezing his face, and cocking back his arm to gain enough power to hit little girls as young as 4. But unfortunately, he wasn't the only violent kid in the class. Over time, he was joined by them all.
Over the past two weeks, i sat, hopelessly, and increasingly depressed, in the midst of a chaos and violence i have never known before. these are children of course, but the only thing small about them is their size. the strength of these children is utterly shocking. and the anger and poigniency with which they attack and fight eachother, is like that of an adult street fighter. And these kids are fearless. Regardless of the size or age, the kids stand ready in the face of their opponents, refusing to even flinch at a swing, as to show their strength. Helpless and shocked, i sat in the middle of boys punching eachother violently in the back of eachothers heads; girls slapping eachother dead across the face with a passionate heavy hand. Kids thrashing rocks across the class, slamming another in the head. Even boys bashing rocks into kids heads, as if it didnt scare them or even occurr to them that pain, brain damage or death was possible. i dont know where these kids learned this stuff, but i know that it has been a really rough and scary time for me as im wondering...is it possible that to some degree, violence is innate?
One day a small boy was getting beaten by an older boy in class. the older boy was clearly winning. the older boy took the younger boys head in his hand and pushed it to the ground so that the boy was bent over completely. and with a terrifying calm in his body, the older boy held his head down with one hand, and slowly cocked the other back to knock him to the ground. it was almost like a really violent video game where the fighter takes a last moment to look at his victim and bask in his violent glory, before he finishes him off. only this was real life; with 6 year olds. ive watched children bash rocks into eachothers heads, boys kick girls in the throat, and kids beating kids for no apparent reason. i have never heard the sound of flesh beating flesh like i have in this place. the sounds of their hits have completely shattered the blissful illusion i lived in that told me that small children only carried small fight; if kids are fighting, its nothing serious- its not like they can hurt eachother right? wrong. that first week, even though i did try to stop as many fights as i could, i will admit, i took somewhat of a back seat. i was there as a tutor to Mori, and class discipline wasn't my job. whether or not i was there, it was their teachers responsibility to keep them under control. but by week two, i saw that this wasn't happening. And on my second Wednesday, i took the drivers seat- and set out for opperation calm down and control; or so i thought. i took over the job of class monitor and DIDNT carry a stick. tried preventing fights rather than breaking them up. and finally after 2 or so hours of waiting for their teacher to show up, i said what the heck, and i took some chalk in my hand, and started teaching. The kids loved it. We made up songs, clapped our hands, used jestures, and smiles were everywhere. their excitement for something new was jumping from their faces. The teachers they have now, walk in, whip a few kids, turn their back to the class, draw a leg and a foot on the board,draw arrows and write "leg", "foot", "toes", and walk out. without any interaction or explanation, the kids then attempt to copy down what is on the board.--- all the while, the children have never even been taugh what the symbols "l", "e", "g" even are!!! and thats school for the day. the teachers are horrible and lazy. And for those few moments, with the kids eyes watching me closely , with excitement and longing in their bones, i felt chills run through me. After a little while, i sat down so that their actual teacher would feel free to come and teach; and the waiting began again. as we sat and waited, another fight broke out- only this fight, would be the worse id seen yet, and for me it was the final straw.
A brother and a sister were beating a young girl. the sister tackled the girl to the ground and began punching her in the face while sitting on top of her. And as i rean to the fight, the brother joined in and lifted his leg to his chest and then slammed it repeatedly into the girl legs, crushing them into the ground. The little girl was being beaten into the rocks, and her fight grew weaker. i pushed the brother away and reached to try to break the two girls apart. but from behind me the brother kept kicking at the girls body. in utter disgust and frustration, i turned from the girls and pushed the brother back, but he fought against me and came back at the girl. so i grabbed his arms and pushed him harder. And in that very instant it was like even though everything was moving so fast, God froze that one moment for me, as the boy flew to the ground, and i felt God face on my heart, like--- "what have you done....?" Half a second hadnt even passed before i knew, i had pushed him to hard. the boy flew to the ground and stared at me in shock. that moment was quite possibly the most shameful and disgusting moment of my life. of all of the crap, and inpurity, lust, and sin ive been a part of, this moment, cut me deeper than them all. my insides froze and my mind went blank. i have never been so emberrassed to be me. by no means did i hurt the kid even half as much as they hurt eachother in all their little fights, but nonetheless, nothing about that moment felt right or good to me. still though the sister was beating the girl to the ground and so i turned to the girls and pulled them apart.
A teacher had heard the noises the kids made when i threw the boy, and he came to calm the class down. As he calmed the class, i stood frozen. on the outside i wathced carefully to keep the siblings away from the girl, but on the inside i was a broken mess. i felt completely disoriented. i had lost self control maybe only for one moment, but that one moment was enough to make me just as ugly and hurtful as the evil i was fighting against. Suddenly this idea of "me" and all that i am, was shattered and i realized how messed up I was too, and how badly I needed a higher power to give me a truly divine patience. i shook myself out of it and set my eyes upon the young girl; battered and bruised and scratched all over, she stood in a broken silence. the pain on her face ran deep into her body. not like the fight had hurt her skin or her bones, but that with every hit, a message was being beaten into her heart. that "this is the way of life. this is what you deserve, this is your value. this is the roughness you have to adopt into your own heart". watching this thought process spin in the minds of kids here has been absolutely heartbreaking. its like you can see thier minds slowly coming to accept that they too, must be this rough; its the only way to survive. and eventually, with enough fights, and enough beatings, they learn--- and the tears stop flowing. her chest pounded and her eyes spoke words of sorrow and pain ive never even known, and yet- not a single tear flowed. i spoke broken arabic to her, and hugged her tenderly..... i dont know whom i was hugging in that moment. this broken girl; the boy i pushed to the ground; ALL of the youth in this broken place who are attacked each day by lies of violence and hatred?; or myself? the person id most recently discovered, was allowing herself to take those same lies into her heart-even if just for a moment. i dont know who that girl was to me as i hugged her; but i hugged her tightly and closed my eyes, just wishing so badly that nothing was the way it was.
So many people here have just accepted this daily chaos and disorganization , as a part of life. they have lived through so much and now the life that has been beaten out of them has left them with a lack of ambition to change anything for themselves. they watch their children fighting and hating eachother, and yet, they too are too tired and discouraged to do a thing about it. everyday i struggle with the negativity and somber vibes that cloud the air in this place and am continually challenged to look to God for my joy.
My main prayer request for you at this point is for the situation of violence amongst the children here. I didn’t share the story of me pushing the boy because I was proud, or because its fun for me to admit how much of a piece of crap I was in that moment- but I shared it for two reasons. 1) is that I want to become yoked to the spirit of God. I want to take his spirit as my bounded partner in life, and just as it says in Matthew 11:29, I want to learn to truly be exactly what it says; gentle and humble. Two of the most beautiful characteristics. And my soul yearns to be that. And since I have to start somewhere, here I am- humbled by my need for God’s Higher Power to come and clothe me with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience (Colossians 3:12). My other reason for sharing the story- is in hopes that it would illustrate the extreme depth and seriousness of this problem here. I don’t know how else to make you see how devastating the violence was, without being able to show you for yourself. Sitting in the midst of that for just two weeks, was enough to burden and depress my spirit enough that iwas pushed to the point that I acted out of frustration. And so my request is not just that you pray for me and my patience but that you, and everyone you know, would take this need seriously, and literally get down on your knees and pray with earnest and steadfast prayer, until this places is actually rocked and turned upside-down so that a blanket of peace and compassion would cover this place; and that the youth would not be raised to hate, and fight eachother. Nothing in this place will change- and I truly believe this- until this whole world, gets on its knees and prays aboutthe violence in these children. That’s how deep this problem is here. Please, please, please believe me.
Realizing what is a reality in a lot of schools within post-war countries, made me sit down and really reevaluate what it is that I hold to be most important in life. I started wondering- why am I working so hard towards a mission that’s centered on education? Why am I preaching that if only we can put these kids in school- their lives will be fixed, and we can feel good? Why am I pretending that I believe that education will leave these kids feeling fulfilled at the end of the day- when I know that education was never what did it for me….
Why am I not centering my entire missionary service on the one thing that I know has given me true life?
ive always known and believed that ministry can be anything. You can own a bakery, and through the work of God, that can be your ministry. you can be mother and that can be your purpose and ministry. You can be a teacher and that can be your ministry. and i believe with all of my heart that each of us were designed to have different fields of ministry that are all equally needed. but for me, im feeling like, there is a stirring in my heart for a reason. there is a reason that something in ME doesnt feel right to put all of my attention towards education as my ministry; and i have to pay attention to the stirring in my heart to make a change in my overall focus of ministry. whether that will be more of a pastoral focus, or something else i dont know. but im listening to the spirit.
Fortunately the schools which our scholarship aid went to, are all much better quality and far more serious in all areas (teaching, subjects, and class time devoted to interactive lessons) than the one im telling you about today. But regardless, my eyes had been opened and if I could put it into words, id say it was like God sat down right in front of my heart, and asked me, “sophie, is this really what your heart beats for?”… and I cant say yes..
At the end of the day I know that education is good and beneficial regardless of whether or not it should be the center of life. And so im not doubting that what we did was a good mission. I just want to be honest with myself and keep sight of what really matters at the end of a day; at the end of a life. And for me----- that’s nothing other than growing closer to God. So I guess now the question is- how do I make that the be-all and end-all of my ministry.
Thanks for reading- until next time- eat losts of ice cream and fruit for me :)
sophie b.
Labels: sophie god, Sudan
March 11, 2008 at 10:15 PM
I have no idea how to deal with this. I feel so many emotions, many that are not appropriate to express while living with Him as my higher power. There is a desperation that absolutely astounds me. Sophie has the answer to the problem, as do all of us. Until the world acknowledges Sudan and gets on it knees and cries for God's mercy on this region, it will not substantially change at the hands of governments. People inflict change, not bureaucracy.
Considering I have never been to Sudan, I must say the thing that hurst most is what is closest to me. Knowing Sophie, it brings me to tears to see her amidst such turmoil. I know we are called to walk, regardless of the thorns. It just hurts to see someone I respect so highly, whose actions make me realize what it means to act when we are called, whose faith is so strong that it brings me to tears in so much pain. Sophie, thank you being an example to all of us that we are not called to an easy life, a safe life, or a less confusing life. We are called to walk, regardless of the turmoil, pain, and insecurities because when we die to ourselves, we live in Him. top
March 12, 2008 at 9:44 AM
Patrick,
Good.
ap top
March 12, 2008 at 10:30 AM
Dear Sophie,
We have never met, but I am compelled to send you a message. What an overwhelming and difficult task the Lord has asked you to commit to. You're right that Sudan cannot change until the whole world acknoledges, prays, and acts on its behalf. But do not be discouraged. You must focus on your task. The Lord has asked you to 1) spread the word about Sudan and 2) to teach one child at a time that violence is wrong. You just have to teach one child at a time that his life doesn't have to be that way. You can teach him another way, the way of Love. God selected you especially for this task. You really can do this.
One more thing. I see Jesus in you. You are living out what the bible asks - to follow the ways of Jesus. Thank you for your witness.
Kate top
March 13, 2008 at 2:16 PM
I would like to address something and I do not have much time, but I noticed it immediately in Sophie's email and sent her an e-mail in reply, but now I see it in the comments as well.
I think the idea of God only acting when the world is praying for Sudan is not right. He is God and can act and change the hearts of a nation in a moment if He so chooses. Now, I am not saying that praying as the Holy Spirit leads you is wrong - clearly, you should pray - the prayers of a righteous man availeth much. But let's be clear that we should not put parameters around God's ability to act based on our prayers.
I could probably write this better (or maybe not) if I had more time, but I think this is important and wanted to reply.
Blessings - to you and to the Sudan! top
March 14, 2008 at 2:52 PM
As Patrick said, I too have no idea how to process this ... I guess because it's my nature to want to have answers, to want to fix the broken, to want to heal others. It's a hard thing for me to know that I don't have the answers, even when I earnestly seek them from God. It's the frustration of living in a fallen world where the blessing and curse of free will prevails.
I can't pretend to always understand prayer. You don't know how desperately I wish I did. I know that God hears us. I know that He answers us. But I also know that God works through the hearts of those who are willing to hear Him and to follow His promptings and leadings. When there are hardened hearts of government leaders who have shut their ears to Him, I suppose that leaves the actions of love and mercy on earth up to those of us who have not hardened our hearts, who will work for justice and answer the call to "Go, feed, do" with "Here I am, Lord. I'll go".
People like Sophie. Thank you. top