Our main goal working here in Ethiopia is that we would show God and His character to the people we interact with. More times than not, this proves to be VERY challenging for us. In my ideas, I imagined I would just show Him to the world by my character- by my smile, by my kindness and love for them, by my willingness to learn their language and culture, by telling them why I came to live among them, by the relationships I build with the locals. This job that I imagined would open doors in mirroring God to them has proved to do the opposite.
For example, people come to us (the white people) with great needs of simple necessities such as food, clothing, a little bit of money to help them get through a hard time. Normally, I would give freely and with great joy because I have seen how God has provided so much for us through other people and I want others to know that same God. But being connected with and identified as “Lalmba” (the organization we are working for), it makes it nearly impossible to do so. They come to our organization for help, and even if we help personally, apart from Lalmba, it is still seen as Lalmba helping them. And if “Lalmba”, as an organization serving 1 million people, helps one person with those basic needs, it must help thousands more. Which, of course, the needs are endless.
This is very difficult for me. How do you react to these situations with a “big picture” mentality and still be very real and personal to the lady who comes with a starving child, or the orphan who is asking you to provide them a place to stay, or the family who is begging you to pay for their child’s surgery who will surely die without it? The big picture is you must have limitations to what you can do if you are really going to be effective in helping the masses. As an organization, we cannot help everyone. And as an individual, my hands are tied, because in the people’s eyes, I am the organization.
Today, a young girl came into the clinic with a very sick, malnourished child. The child is 8 months old and weighs 8 lbs. I greeted her and smiled, shook the little boy’s hand, and said the common blessing of “May God help you.” She responded with an “Amen.”
Later I found out her name is Tigist, and she was one of the orphan children we used to take care of. She had left the program on her own initiative as a teenager, wanting to prove her independence and ability to take care of herself. Now, a year and a half later, she shows up with a starving child, begging for us to give her food and clothing.
Everything inside of me is longing to reach out to her and help her, to reflect the character of God in His mercy, forgiveness, grace, and provision- just like the parable of the prodigal son. But as an organization, we can do very little to help her. We are a clinic, and so we have admitted her child into the malnutrition program, but after the child is rehabilitated, they will be discharged from our clinic, and they will be on the street again. She cannot be readmitted into the orphan program. She has no family, no husband, and very little opportunity to make enough money to provide for herself and her child.
Is not the heart of God to provide for ones such as these? My heart is so burdened, and yet I am bound by the organization’s “bigger picture” to just smile at her and say, “May God help you.”
Ironic, isn’t it?
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