Astrid in Burundi

Unseen Suffering + Thanksgiving gluttony

2009-12-01T00:20:00.000-08:00

“Life is not fair” I heard a friend say the other day. Pondering the meaning of this I concluded: “Life is unjust” to be the biblical terminology used, and somehow this gave me a strange sense of hope.

Only an hour ago I had been feeding hundreds of young children. I did not know their names nor had any deep conversations with any of them. All I knew was for most of these children the porridge I would give them would be the only food they would receive this day. Many of the children had physical signs of infections and malnourishment. But since I had no personal relationship with the children, my response was to emotionally distance myself from the extreme suffering each one represented. Seeing the children sitting down on the cold cement floor of the rented warehouse where we feed them, made me feel satisfied inside; “I did a good thing today”, I thought.

The left over porridge we gave to breast feeding mothers. Most mothers are so severely malnourished that their bodies do not produce enough milk for their babies, causing a great number of deaths among newborns and those under 2. These hungry women had fist fights to determine their place in the porridge line. I was amazed at such behavior. Knowing this information and seeing the desperation I felt even more “good” about the role I played today. Not knowing my “feeling good” would soon be crushed and an overwhelming powerlessness would take its place.

An older boy was carried in. Skinny as can be he looks only a week away from death. The boy, suffering from Tuberculosis, has not been eating. With barely enough strenght to hold his cup of porridge he is taught the importance of eating, yet the expresions of pain after a sip of porridge explain it all.

Walking through the village where these mothers and children live, just a stones throw away from the warehouse, my good feelings were completely absorbed by a feeling of compassion and powerlessness. A smell of stagnant water and sewage awakened all my senses to the consequences of injustice.

Naked children aimlessly walking around. Young adults drunk at 10am, teenage girls with babies and toddlers all around them. No animals are seen except for a dead rat. Old men in rags trying to keep warm while sitting on the wet mud floor of their shacks. A sight of desperation and hopelessness. My eyes catches a few women with bright red tomatoes, this color, an intense contrast against the dark soil stained cloths of people, the dark of the mud covered shacks and the ever so muddy pathways.

“We fear the night” some say.”When the rains come in the night we have no where to go with our children.” The snakes that invade the tiny village during rainfall are poisonous. When children die, which happens all too frequently it is always blamed to witchcraft. Tb, cholera, malaria and other waterborne deseases spread rampid among th villagers.

No sustainable aid reached them. Though some are grateful for the relief aid they receive from time to time they desire what you and I desire in life. A place to call home, food security and education for their children.

With every rainfall I think of these precious people hiding for shelter, praying for the rains not to bring down their mud homes. When the temperature drops I pray for God’s angels to keep the people warm. When I meet them in the mornings and look in their eyes, I smile, yet my heart weeps. I think of this season one that celebrates Hope, Life and Peace. I think of the millions of dollars that will be spend on Christmas presents world wide, even hundreds of dollars in simple families and my stomach turns and my eyes see the young boy with Tb, the woman starving herself to feed her twinns and the bare bottom children who simply don’t have cloths.

You and I are called to feed the hungry, cloth the poor, fight for justice and look after the widow and orphan. Jesus makes it simple; if we don’t or ignore doing this, Jesus will turn from us as if He does not know us (Matthew 25:34-45) I don’t have much to give financially but I can give 2 hours daily to feed them. I can make their need known to the world. I can clean a wound a place a band-aid, I can hold a child's hand and walk it to its mud home. Funding is available to continue the daily making of 120 liters (31 gallons) of porridge until Christmas. After that… we don’t know.

I think I know where I will be Christmas morning. Giving the gift of a cup of porridge to my hungry friends. After all, Christmas is not about gluttony nor about me or you is it?

Another journal Entry

2009-11-06T00:22:00.000-08:00

Finally it is happening.
For so long I have looked at those who walk in the supernatural, who move in signs and wonders, who prophecy so freely and my heart yearned to be like them. I know what my God says in his word. "Signs and wonders will follow those who believe..." and "You will do greater things than these" and " their words were accompanied by signs and wonders and miracles". This type of Christianity... I want it.

I have struggled for many years. Praying without apparent healing taking place, believing with great faith but seeing an outcome very different than expected.

Yet now, now I see... My eyes are starting to see the need of a transformed mind... I realize more and more how my mind and heart thought they believed, yet when I allow the Spirit to search me AND reveal to me my the deep things of my heart I realize that what I said I believed or what I thought I believed was not so.

What started this process...
My struggles with the lack of what normal Christianity should look like according to what Jesus spoke and what we see in the disciples and the first church; walking in the resurrection power of Jesus Christ, brought me to a place of desperation; God, if you do not confirm your words with a demonstration of Your power, than I am not interested in Christianity. I refuse to be one who speaks of the healing power of Christ yet never demonstrates it. I refuse to be like a vacuum sales man at someones door; throwing some dirt on the carpet, speaking of the great suction power of the vacuum, convincing people to buy it, but not demonstrating the machine.

It is interesting to me that the "result" of my desperation is so different than I imagined. Some of you that know me might wonder; lack of faith... you? Yes my friends, I realize more and more that I understand God's ways in such limitation. That so much of my faith is based on what I know to be possible. My faith has been limited to my personal or other peoples faith experiences, not to the impossible.
1 Corinthians 2:9 says it so well;" no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind conceived what God has in store for those who love him. But he has revealed it to us by His Spirit."
You see, if I can conceive it it is still to small. If it is within my means.. it is still to small... But when it comes from the Spirit, it will be big! I believe that I have looked at life from Astrid perspective for long enough. Now it is time for Kingdom perspective to be in my mind!

I am tired of vacuum sales Christianity and want to move on to a life where the life of Christ will be reflected through me to the fullest measure possible!
What this means, how it works out, how it happens...
I don't fully know, but I am willing to share with you over the next months what happens. Keep checking this blog as I will share with you my journal entries, my prayers and experiences.

Astrid

Security Illusion.

2009-08-26T08:07:00.000-07:00

A few of you have asked why me to explain more on a line I wrote in our August family newsletter. Thank you to those who have asked. Life here in the heart of Africa is very different than in America or Europe. I at times forget that some stories or sentences may sound really strange as you do not have a reference frame to place them in. So again; thank you for asking. Let me share with you:

Based on the line from our August newsletter: “Our children do not have the freedom to play outside the walls of the compound.”

Our home is an older African style home. Our neighborhood is considered a safer neighborhood with a combination of middle-higher class Africans and some whites. Every house in our neighborhood has security walls about 8-10 feet, about 3+ meter around its yard. The walls have barb wires, metal spikes or thorny vines on top for added protection. Tall metal gates at the entrance of the compound, security guards and heavy metal bars in front of the windows of the house are norm. Heavy pad locks on the inside of the doors, secret closets, it seems so extreme, but very much needed.

There is no central home alarm system, no 911 emergency response, no home insurance companies, no justice system just enough to come to objective correct judgments without bribes involved. No finger printing no forgery proof ID cards and no Amber Alert.

Whites resemble money and resources. Whites are called Muzungu (moozoongoo) meaning anything from rich-man to foreigner to untouchable one. Any opportunity to take advantage of the white man will guarantee a better life to most people. Whether through job opportunities, car theft, robbery, bribes or kidnapping of a child and asking a ransom. After all the white man always has much money.

Burundi is the 3^rd poorest nation in the world. 85% of its people have no guarantee to sufficient food or education for their children. Such excruciating need will cause people to do unthinkable things.

The police needs to be “motivated” to do their job. (meaning if they do not get favors or bribes from you they will not do their job). Even then, their resources are limited, the lines of people to see them uncountable and their priorities to where they think they can get the greatest personal benefit. They fling around their machineguns as a teenager her hand bag. Most of the police are former rebels integrated in regular life. Security has become an illusion.

People with wrong motives are all around the world and in all society levels of life. We cannot fully protect our children or loved ones from such people. In life, even in church, we will get hurt by other people. As Dietrich Bonnhoffer said it so well; Even “the church is not a comfortable place for idealists and humanists. Church is a community of forgiven sinners, a family of people who need mercy from those who have learned to forgive like Jesus.” Yet… I will not set up my children to get hurt or be violated to the benefit of others.

In the place I live, Burundi, I need to take great measures for the sake of the protection of my daughters. It would even be different if I had sons. This is a man’s culture where women satisfy the needs and wants of men. Where girls and women have legal rights, but no-one to help them fight for them. When those appointed to protect can turn on me and harm me in the blink of an eye… When security is an illusion…

How do I protect my girls from such evil? And also, how can I protect them from an over protective mom?All I can do is what the Israelites did time and again. Crying out to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob when their enemies were too great, they would call on the LORD and He would hear their cry and He would grant them victory on every side. I pray for my girls this way, it is after all the best security I have.

“Know that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself;

the Lord will hear when I call to him.”

Psalm 4:3

Jasmin, Yaida and Nani on the trampoline with friends, our home in the background.

Below- street to our house- large walls and iron gates.

Ministry among the poor

2009-03-16T07:18:00.000-07:00

We had the opportunity to minister to a small, young church in an area just outside Bujumbura, the capital of Burundi, 75% of the church were younger than 18 years. The children were hungry for Jesus. It was an honor to be with them. Let the photos speak for themselfs.

coming to church in his best outfit?