Many of you have heard me talk about "Katie in Africa" with Amazima Ministries. Many of you are "followers" but in case you aren't, here is a long blog that kind of hits me in the GUT!
I feel like such a loser for caring about my face and the pride in me that I won't leave my house hardly. Children are starving to death. We can help. But we don't.
I sort of do-but hardly do. I want that to CHANGE!
Couldn't figure out how to link today's post from her blog-so I am pasting it here.
Below is her post.
Here is the link to the blog:
http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/
*be warned: I always re-read things before I post them. I didn't re-read this one, it is liable to be messy...
I am processing so many emotions right now; I'm just going to go ahead and let you know that this post will not be eloquent or well written. It will not be a beautifully worded story, but just the ramblings of a mom who is tired today. It will just be, and it will be good enough.
On Thursday of last week,I went to check on Michael, a sweet little boy from the Karamajong village that we took care of a few weeks ago. I found him with open sores all over his body. As a result of severe malnutrition, Michael weighs just ten kilos at 6 years old. He is no taller than Jane (my two and a half year old). His skin is breaking and unable to repair itself because his immune system is so weak. His hair is white as snow and his skin is yellow and splotchy and his smile and little bug out eyes can melt your heart and light up the room. Michael is fearfully and wonderfully made, created in the image of my Savior.
I have warned myself over and over that I must NOT start bring home children from the Karamajong village. We feed them lunch and supper every day and twice a week I drive my van, the trunk loaded with a mini pharmacy, into the middle of their village and treat anything I can. And I told myself and told myself that I would not bring them home for treatment, that twice a week visits were all I could handle right now. I wanted so badly to guard my heart because here's the thing: once you take one, you may end up with 13. I knew that once I had taken one sick child from this village home for rehab, there would be not stopping point because these children are ALL ALWAYS sick.
But as I looked at Michael, I saw no alternative. He needed to be bathed in warm water every day. He needed milk and eggs and ORS and multivitamins and fresh fruits and vegetables and there was no way I could get him all those things regularly where he was. Even if I did, there was no guarantee that his parents would not sell these things and continue only feeding him posho (corn flour). So he came home. He tested negative for HIV, TB and typhoid and we began a pretty rigid deworming routine as well as a highly caloric, protein packed diet. In the last 5 days he has gained 2.5 pounds (that's a lot if you only weigh 20!) but he has gained more than that. I have watched him transform from a lifeless, expressionless little boy who slept all day and was unresponsive to a over-the-top cheerful, sometimes down right ornery little boy who hardly ever stops smiling and loves playing games with other children. The transformation has been remarkable.
I will keep him for about another week as I begin counseling his father and step mother (this is the biggest issue, often second wives do not want to care for their husband's other children and sometimes even write them off as cursed or not worthy of food and provision...) about the most nutritious foods for him, frequent meals, bathing, ect. My heart will break to take him back and yet I will know that it is what is best for him and his family.
Wednesday as I met with the Karamjong children for Bible study a woman walked up to me and handed me a baby that I presumed to be dead. And then she breathed.
The mother told me that she was quite positive that she (the mother) had HIV and therefore was not breastfeeding her 10 pound, 9 month old little girl. I asked, quite obviously, what she had been feeding her then? And this was the response that awaited me, "Nothing. We have no food." Um. NO wonder the baby looked dead. She almost was. I pleaded the mother to let me take her with me, to be tested for HIV and be fed. The mother instanly agreed but fist wanted to show me her house.
I think I have seen it all. And then this happens. Thier house was made of cardboard and was smaller than the bed I sleep in at night. On the floor lay filthy old rags on which they slept and a pile of charcoal which they cooked on (when they did have food, I guess). I almost dropped on my knees right there. It was one of those I-just-don't-have-a-clue-what-to-do-next moments. So I did the only thing that comes naturally to me. I scooped her up. I prayed for her mother and the 6 other children living in the house/box and promised to return. I drove as fast as I safely could to the nearest semi-good hospital and then to get some high energy formula.
For the first 24 hours, I could hardly stand to look at sweet baby Patricia (her parents had not named her for fear she would die, and I could think of no one better to name her after than my precious Mommy). The hurt and the hunger in her lifeless little eyes was simply unbearable. Every time I changed her diaper, more big fat worms (we are talking really large, earth worm sized) had come out. I cried for the things this child has had to endue for so long. And I cried to know that though I deworm her now, the minute I take her back to her mother, the worms will return. Her HIV test came back negative and I am praising Jesus for that. She was diagnosed with severe pnemonia and malnutrition. She can hardly sleep at night for coughing so much.
Friends, I ask for prayer. For these children and for my heart. I have fallen in love with Michael and Patricia. Their sweet faces that arer Jesus. The tear stream down as I write this and have to think about taking them back to their parents, who I will try to help as much as possible, but still have such fear in my heart about. I look at their surroundings and simply wonder how children survive in this harsh world.
I am sad and I am angry. Between no sleep and a million doctors appointments (imagine that in Uganda you wait even LONGER in the hospital than you do in the US...) and Bible club on Thursday and Saturday program tomorrow and trying to raise 13 children and spend enough time with each of them, maybe you will right my saddess and anger of as the rantings of an exhausted mother and maybe they are, but this is my blog and I am going to say what I feel like. I am MAD. I have been sad and broken for these children for so long and it has finally turned into a hardened anger. I am angry that this culture so lies to women that Michael's stepmother believes that she does not have to care for this child who is not biologically hers, though she has ample means to. I am angry that in the "Pearl of Africa" and the most fertile region of it at that, a mother has litteraly NO food to feed her baby, not to mention herself or 6 other kids. I am angry that the result of this is that these sweet ones suffer in their innocence. I have said it before and it still holds true: I DO NOT BELIEVE that the God of the universe created too many children in His image and not enough love or food or care to go around. In fact I believe that He created the Body of Christ for just that, to help these little ones, the least of these. And I believe that except for a handful, the Body of Christ is failing. And its not just me who thinks this. When I'm angry, I like to research so that I can at least feel a bit justified in my rage ;) According to several differnt resources, there are an average of 147 million orphaned children in the world today (this statistic includes children who have lost only one parent as well), 11 million children starve to death each year or die from preventable, treatable illness. 8.5 million children work as child slaves, prostitutes, or in other horrific conditions (making things like that cute baby Gap dress Jane wore today...) 2.3 million children world wide are living with HIV.
That is 168.8 million needy children like Michael and Patricia. Seems like a big number, huh? It shouldn't, because there are 2.1 BILLION people on this earth who profess to be Christians. Jesus followers. Servants. Gospel live-ers. And id only 8 percent of those Christians would care for just ONE of these needy children, they would all be taken care of.
And now I'm just sad again. And I want to take care of all 169 million. But as I look into Patricia's eyes, that since just 48 hours ago have turned bright and smiley, as I smell her hair freshly washed with baby shampoo and snuggle her into her new footie pajamas (side note: is their ANYTHING cuter than a baby in soft cotton footie pajamas?!) God tells me that this one is enough. That He will hold the others while they wait for someone to come along and hold them tight and give them their milk and their medicine. That He doesn't ask me to take them all but to stop for the ONE because that one is Jesus, His son. Stop for the little boy with white haid and scabs covering his body, stop for the baby with feces covering her dress, so weak she can't hold up her hear. Stop and take the ones right in front of me any trust Him with the rest. He whispers that it will be ok and that I can smile because tonight 2 less children are hungry and that is good for today.
My anger is gone and I am just a mom who is tired and going to make another bottle and tuck her children into bed and love them the best that I can, as we as a family love the ones God has entrusted us with. Tomorrow I will brainstorm and pray and come up with the best way to take Michael and Patricia back to their homes, possibly find their parents jobs, or supply them with food and medicine. Tomorrow I will remember that they were never mine to begin with, that they are HIS and He will go with them where I cannot. But tonight I will just be. I will just sit with my Father in my sadness and brokeness and anger and ask Him why His innocent children must suffer and beg Him to move people to action and let Him hold me as I hold the baby He has blessed me with for today.
Showing posts with label HIV/AIDS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label HIV/AIDS. Show all posts
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Perspective! Some things can only be appreciated when placed in proper perspective. This morning my precious, big hearted, young man awoke and chose not to get out to bed on time. I politely stirred him; I was met with whining, anger and moaning. Usually, I get upset with this behavior. Then I put it into perspective and said to myself "I have been there-sometimes I don't want to get up either; someone being sweet only aggravates me more" He will get up soon because he will not want to hear my gentle prods turn to full throttle attacks. Perspective based on previous experiences is usually right on.
I am doing a little at home video workout as he emerges from his room, dressed, head hung, hair in his face and grumpy! He flops on the couch and proceeds to politely tell me I am not doing the exercise right. This might usually discourage me and I might snap back a flippant comment,; instead perspective speaks and hey, he is probably just trying to help. “Thank you Hunter, you are probably right." He leaves and heads to the kitchen I hear clunking and shuffling and all sorts of amazing sounds coming from the kitchen. I couldn't quite tell if he was unloading the dishwasher or what. Then I hear it "UUUGHHHH! What the... long drawn out sigh.” He is dramatically making sounds of frustration that I ignore as I recognize them completely: Hunter has realized he can't have what he wants. Even more dramatically he tries to assert response from me by making more sounds and moving into my line of sight so that I can clearly see his dissatisfaction and frustration. I continue on working out. In my head I know this is a bad start to a day with Hunter--given these upsetting situations it can at times send him further and further into anger and because he's tough and cool so he has to keep up the act. It is an act because this is one of the sweetest boys ever! The mystery of his drama is revealed Hunter he has realized that there is no...dun, dun, dun- milk!
I finish my routine and go join Hunter at the table. "Hunter" I ask "what is the matter?" While holding his head in one hand he flings his other hand in the direction of the counter which was covered with bowls, a skillet, baking mix, measuring cups etc. "There is no milk!" I cannot go through all the dialogue; to sum up: his life is ruined because there is no milk. I asked him was there milk for dad, me, Brit--I don't know...yeah but he didn't get all this stuff up and now I am going to have to...yada yada-I am sure you get the picture. Of course you know I went through all the food options to combat the "there's nothing to eat" statement. For times sake let me just say: being my unusually calm self, I proceeded to let Hunter know that because of his attitude he was not going to be allowed to have breakfast this morning. That was met with the old faithful "I don't care" then as I didn't respond he hits me with a "you can go to jail for this you know" "No, Hunter, I will not go to jail" "you will.... more dialogue… to sum it up Hunter was trying to talk about something he knows nothing about but by God he is not going to back down now. I go about my business of the morning and time was ticking by and Hunter was not taking care of any of his responsibilities.
Testing! Usually mothers get to hand their kids off to some unsuspecting teacher and let them deal with the little booger; but no-praise God! I get to be both. I warn him that there is 20 minutes before school...10...Hunter it's 9:59 "Then I still have one minute" he says. Oh! Boy he is in rare form; I should maintain a good distance to avoid bodily contact or I might just go to jail and the obstinate one would be right! 10:00 hits and I say "Hunter as your mother I want to let you know that I am upset that you have not cleaned up your mess and now you are going to be late for school. As your teacher I want you to know that I am not happy that you are late for school and not ready to begin as required. No I'm not late-oh yes you are-no I’m here--GO clean your mess! He is huffing and puffing but cleaning no less. Then I notice a softening. It is the softening that comes before he is about to beg or do something that he hopes that I will have mercy on him and say nothing. Too bad-I said it!--he was getting out bread, peanut butter… Hunter you are not having breakfast this morning. Full on pout! And a cryyyyy that would challenge any two year old that just found the freedom in the word NO! No reaction from me; again, unusual.
He goes to his desk "starving!" and sits. I do not see him getting out any text books, or looking over his lessons, just sitting and doing nothing. I am working on the computer; of course I am google-ing if I really could go to jail, actually how long it takes to starve, hunger in the US, the world, statistics anything any good home schooling mom would do with a TEACHABLE MOMENT of this magnitude. I look over and my baby boy is fiddling doing nothing he has now sat at his desk for 40 minutes. “Hunter, why aren’t you starting school?” “I’m on strike” “Okay, well that is your choice.” Look at how cool I am remaining; those that know me know that I am full of words, FULL of words! I can slice a man to his kneecaps giving 15 seconds of air time. This is NOT an admirable trait in a wife or mother and I am no condoning any chopping of men in this blog.
I can tell from the tone of his voice he is remorseful; see I told you he was a sweetie. “Mom, thank you for cleaning my desk” “you’re welcome Hunter” “and I’m sorry for my attitude earlier” “I know you are Hunter-I know that was not who you are--so when I see you act like that I know it isn’t you and I am not going to put up with you being or acting like someone you are not.” “I know; I’m sorry.”
Luckily for him, and you, I had stumbled upon some great teachable material! VIDEOS! Thanks to my wonderful friends at World Vision International I remembered hearing about the forty hour famine. No, I am not going to make Hunter go without food for forty hours (if he chose to do that I would support him) and you’ll see why. There is a new danger to our youth; you will really want to check this out. It is called “Affluenza!” Thankfully research has been conducted and I can share with you; my friends and family, the truth about this common condition.
Please if you have made it this far you can last another 12 minutes and 36 seconds for 2 short videos (and whatever time it takes for your browser to load-I like to be honest and precise and would never want to---I am wasting precious time that you could be watching these amazing, creative videos! Go moms, aunts, grand-parents, one and all! Let’s take a look from a different perspective!
Teenage affluenza is spreading:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFZz6ICzpjI
Do Something Real:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UA2xEfHOohQ
Needless to say, my sweet Hunter was very thankful to watch these. He was moved to compassion. He just needs some perspective at times. Enjoy shifting yours!
Getting perspective,
Jen Polk (feel free to pass this on to someone you love)
This is a true story. The contents have been approved for sharing by Hunter and His father (my husband) the amazing Trent Polk!
I am doing a little at home video workout as he emerges from his room, dressed, head hung, hair in his face and grumpy! He flops on the couch and proceeds to politely tell me I am not doing the exercise right. This might usually discourage me and I might snap back a flippant comment,; instead perspective speaks and hey, he is probably just trying to help. “Thank you Hunter, you are probably right." He leaves and heads to the kitchen I hear clunking and shuffling and all sorts of amazing sounds coming from the kitchen. I couldn't quite tell if he was unloading the dishwasher or what. Then I hear it "UUUGHHHH! What the... long drawn out sigh.” He is dramatically making sounds of frustration that I ignore as I recognize them completely: Hunter has realized he can't have what he wants. Even more dramatically he tries to assert response from me by making more sounds and moving into my line of sight so that I can clearly see his dissatisfaction and frustration. I continue on working out. In my head I know this is a bad start to a day with Hunter--given these upsetting situations it can at times send him further and further into anger and because he's tough and cool so he has to keep up the act. It is an act because this is one of the sweetest boys ever! The mystery of his drama is revealed Hunter he has realized that there is no...dun, dun, dun- milk!
I finish my routine and go join Hunter at the table. "Hunter" I ask "what is the matter?" While holding his head in one hand he flings his other hand in the direction of the counter which was covered with bowls, a skillet, baking mix, measuring cups etc. "There is no milk!" I cannot go through all the dialogue; to sum up: his life is ruined because there is no milk. I asked him was there milk for dad, me, Brit--I don't know...yeah but he didn't get all this stuff up and now I am going to have to...yada yada-I am sure you get the picture. Of course you know I went through all the food options to combat the "there's nothing to eat" statement. For times sake let me just say: being my unusually calm self, I proceeded to let Hunter know that because of his attitude he was not going to be allowed to have breakfast this morning. That was met with the old faithful "I don't care" then as I didn't respond he hits me with a "you can go to jail for this you know" "No, Hunter, I will not go to jail" "you will.... more dialogue… to sum it up Hunter was trying to talk about something he knows nothing about but by God he is not going to back down now. I go about my business of the morning and time was ticking by and Hunter was not taking care of any of his responsibilities.
Testing! Usually mothers get to hand their kids off to some unsuspecting teacher and let them deal with the little booger; but no-praise God! I get to be both. I warn him that there is 20 minutes before school...10...Hunter it's 9:59 "Then I still have one minute" he says. Oh! Boy he is in rare form; I should maintain a good distance to avoid bodily contact or I might just go to jail and the obstinate one would be right! 10:00 hits and I say "Hunter as your mother I want to let you know that I am upset that you have not cleaned up your mess and now you are going to be late for school. As your teacher I want you to know that I am not happy that you are late for school and not ready to begin as required. No I'm not late-oh yes you are-no I’m here--GO clean your mess! He is huffing and puffing but cleaning no less. Then I notice a softening. It is the softening that comes before he is about to beg or do something that he hopes that I will have mercy on him and say nothing. Too bad-I said it!--he was getting out bread, peanut butter… Hunter you are not having breakfast this morning. Full on pout! And a cryyyyy that would challenge any two year old that just found the freedom in the word NO! No reaction from me; again, unusual.
He goes to his desk "starving!" and sits. I do not see him getting out any text books, or looking over his lessons, just sitting and doing nothing. I am working on the computer; of course I am google-ing if I really could go to jail, actually how long it takes to starve, hunger in the US, the world, statistics anything any good home schooling mom would do with a TEACHABLE MOMENT of this magnitude. I look over and my baby boy is fiddling doing nothing he has now sat at his desk for 40 minutes. “Hunter, why aren’t you starting school?” “I’m on strike” “Okay, well that is your choice.” Look at how cool I am remaining; those that know me know that I am full of words, FULL of words! I can slice a man to his kneecaps giving 15 seconds of air time. This is NOT an admirable trait in a wife or mother and I am no condoning any chopping of men in this blog.
I can tell from the tone of his voice he is remorseful; see I told you he was a sweetie. “Mom, thank you for cleaning my desk” “you’re welcome Hunter” “and I’m sorry for my attitude earlier” “I know you are Hunter-I know that was not who you are--so when I see you act like that I know it isn’t you and I am not going to put up with you being or acting like someone you are not.” “I know; I’m sorry.”
Luckily for him, and you, I had stumbled upon some great teachable material! VIDEOS! Thanks to my wonderful friends at World Vision International I remembered hearing about the forty hour famine. No, I am not going to make Hunter go without food for forty hours (if he chose to do that I would support him) and you’ll see why. There is a new danger to our youth; you will really want to check this out. It is called “Affluenza!” Thankfully research has been conducted and I can share with you; my friends and family, the truth about this common condition.
Please if you have made it this far you can last another 12 minutes and 36 seconds for 2 short videos (and whatever time it takes for your browser to load-I like to be honest and precise and would never want to---I am wasting precious time that you could be watching these amazing, creative videos! Go moms, aunts, grand-parents, one and all! Let’s take a look from a different perspective!
Teenage affluenza is spreading:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFZz6ICzpjI
Do Something Real:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UA2xEfHOohQ
Needless to say, my sweet Hunter was very thankful to watch these. He was moved to compassion. He just needs some perspective at times. Enjoy shifting yours!
Getting perspective,
Jen Polk (feel free to pass this on to someone you love)
This is a true story. The contents have been approved for sharing by Hunter and His father (my husband) the amazing Trent Polk!
