Sylvany

In my previous post I talked about God's plan for our lives. Well listen to this one!

About ten years ago when I was in Haiti, one afternoon  I walked into the girls dorm of the orphanage. I did not usually do that but my curiosity had been raised because I heard a tiny little baby crying. It was odd because at the time we did not take in babies since we did not have the means to nourish them, something we still don't do. I walked into the dark hallway and soon found the room with the little crying child. There was nobody in the room and I picked the baby up from the bed it was laying on. She was so little so perfect with her silk black curls and she squeezed her little eyes against the light that peeked through the window. I hummed a little song to her and when she was quiet, all of a sudden one of the caretakers came in and swiftly took the girl out of my arms. I was a little disappointed and asked the lady " I did not know that we took little ones like that", and "What is her story". The lady answered that I would better ask pastor Pauluis.
With that said I left the two behind and went about my work.
That evening during dinner I remembered and asked Pauluis. He got all excited and shared  Sylvany's story with me.
Sylvany was born in a little village called Bankamarie where we had a feeding center. The father had died earlier and the mother was in bad shape after giving birth. A few days later she died and Sylvany became an orphan. The maternal grandmother tried to take care of the child but had no ways or means. Sylvany was quickly wasting away. In utter distress the grandmother laid  the baby without clothes in the yard behind the house where a hog was pinned up. Although this is something no one talks about, it still happens in Haiti from time to time. The hog was expected to eat the baby. But it did not happen that way. A neighbor lady had witnessed the act and snatched the infant up just before the hog touched it.
As she had now taken the responsibility for the child she took it to Bohoc where she knew a lady who was at the time on the board of Matie Vingt-Huit, the orphanage.
It just so happened that Pauluis, the director, had married Marita the head care giver nine months earlier and that Marita was expecting her first child, which was due to be born any day. Without much trouble she was able to start nursing Sylvany and when shortly thereafter her own daughter Clifline was born she fed the two together. Marita was of course in the unusual situation that she had plenty of good food available and thus was able to feed the two of them without problems. Any other woman in the area would barely have had enough milk for one.
Now to me that was a miracle, a chain of events in which I clearly see God's hand.  How much did He want little Sylvany to live. Just imagine how much He loves you too. I marvel at the idea of seeing God play chess against Bobby Fisher or Karpov. They wouldn't know what hit them. He thinks all these moves ahead and He is waiting for you to make your move.

You are not an accident

For You created my inmost being;
       You knit me together in my mother's womb .Psalm 139:13

 "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
       before you were born I set you apart; Jeremiah 1:5a

From being a little boy I have always known that I was loved and wanted. Not until my mother read us the famous Hector Malot novel “Nobody’s Boy” did I know that there were children for whom it was different. I remember crying when Remi left the house at the hand of Vitalis. My world felt all of a sudden less safe. I still think back with fondness to those precious hours before bed time, listening to stories being read. They were moments shielded from the cruel world outside. Those were the days that I could barely read myself.  

Years later, as I was leading Mission Camps, it became apparent to me that many more have to deal with this ‘not being wanted’ thing. Nowadays one of my standard devotions I use is based on that subject. It is so important for people, especially for young people to know that they are not accidents. Today parents often think that, because they have all sorts of birth control available, the conception and birth of a child is solely their choice.  I believe with all my heart that God is the One who gives that privilege to them. Yes, we know how to make a baby and yes many babies are conceived without any plans to do so. But failure on our side to be careful with this privilege God gives us does not mean a lack of planning on His side.

It is heart breaking to see young people raise their hands when asked if they ever overheard their parents speak of them as an accident. It is so ignorant of parents to speak of their children like that. Christian parents should know better than that.  Read the passages at the top of this chapter again. You get it? God tells us through those words that He knows all about us before we are formed in the womb. Knitted is the word that David the author of this psalm uses. He set us aside. That means He made a plan for us!

My mother used to knit a lot. Our family had nine people and most every sweater in our house came from her knitting needles or even more fun, the knitting machine. I loved to watch her use it. I still hear the sound of the slider over the needles. It created music in my head and the sweater was growing with every move. I would help her keeping the yarn from tangling up. It is funny how things change in life. Now I cannot bring up the patience to get a knot out of an extension cord.

Knitting is something that takes a lot of planning. You have to have it all in your head or on a piece of paper and do a lot of counting otherwise it is not going to work. I think that’s why David in Psalm 139 uses the metaphor of knitting. Being a shepherd he might have been a knitter himself. He shows us that God has a plan for us. We were in His head before we came to being, yes long before that moment.  I share that with young people so they may understand that their decision to come to a Mission Camp is part of God’s plan for their life. It fits also in God’s plans for the lives of the people they come to serve. And when from time to time He allows us to have a little insight in these plans, it blows our mind. That’s my God. He loves me and since he knitted me he wants me to be good. Just like the rest of the creation he made long time ago.

I have since grown up and found out that God has an awesome plan for my life. In the following chapters I will try to share with you how I, little by little, have come to understand that. I’m still learning and never know what’s next. All I know is the end of the story. I’m going to be with Him. Yeah!

Where is my courage?

Some time ago I read a very interesting story about the spread of Christianity in the world. One thing that captured my attention was the courage of countless early Christians in the face of death. Almost all of the Apostles died in a violent way. Many accounts have been noted throughout the ages of Christians refusing to denounce Jesus Christ and being tortured or killed for their beliefs. Still today there are quite a few countries with ongoing persecution of Christians. Even in Haiti there are still areas where the lives of them can be in jeopardy. Just a handful of years ago we visited in one of these "zones". Shortly before our visit, a preacher had been killed under the cover of night. It was a grim reminder of the ongoing spiritual warfare against followers of Jesus.

Reflecting on that I wondered if I would be that strong? As a little boy my fourth grade teacher had a wonderful gift of telling stories. He would read from this book about the Eighty Year war, a religious tinted war between protestant Holland and  Roman Catholic Spain following the time of the Reformation. I vividly remember the stories about the people who burned at the stake or were drowned in burlap sacks, weighted with stones. They were so brave. Sometimes after school was over we protestants kids fought with the catholic kids, whose school we had to pass on the way home. Mostly it was calling names and throwing rocks. It made you feel like you came up for those martyrs. Silly stuff.

But where is my courage now. Upon waking one morning,  I heard a fragment of a radio program and the one sentence that stuck with me was: "We don't need a Creator in this world".
That is often the opinion these days and hardly news but when do I object? Have the people who say these things ever experienced something that makes them doubt? In my years I have seen things that rocked my little world and that encouraged my faith immensely but I wonder if I have done enough to share that with others. Maybe I have to look at myself first before I talk about others. Some people with whom I did share my stories, smiled in apparent disbelief. Others encouraged me to write a book about it. Well, I've  tried many times but have put it aside just as often. Yet, the above has emboldened me to try it once again. I am going to write about these events in my blog. Maybe, just maybe it will encourage someone else who wonders if we need a Creator.

To be continued........

Of An Unashamed Love

After a four month pause caused by my illness, I finally went back to Haiti last week. How exciting it was to see the orphans and all the Haitian people I love. The team I brought in this time, consisted of a family from our area in North Carolina as well as a relative of me from Holland who runs Matthew 28 over there. Jonathan Miller from Hayesville assisted us by working on our well system while his wife Kellly was teaching a class in small business development. Their two sons had a great time playing soccer and climbing trees with the orphans. Kids adjust so quickly! Jan, my relative from Holland helped out with the work and spent time finding opportunities for the Dutch supporters of Matthew 28 to help. He went back with a list of projects.

I will tell more about this trip on Facebook but there is one story that I like to share with you here in my blog.

On Thursday morning when Kelly was teaching her class to a group hungry for knowledge, one of the students, pastor Saint Lo, became ill. He walked out of the class and came to me to ask for some medication. I asked him what the problem was and he pointed to his abdomen on the right side and said that it hurt very much. Now when a Haitian tells you that you better take it serious. They are very tough people and will rarely show you the pains they suffer. I asked him to lay down and gently I checked out his abdomen. When I touched the area were, in my own experience just months ago, my appendix ruptured, he bounced of the table. He was sweating profusely and was running a fever. I knew the man had to go to the hospital. This was however easier thought than done because we had no vehicle at the time as one of our objectives for the week was to go buy a new truck. I jumped on a bike that I borrowed from one of the people in the courtyard. Soon I found out that it had no brakes when I tried to slow down for the entrance gate of the neighbors. The gate post was hard. Trying again, this time aware of  the brakes, I made it to the house of Greg Van Shoyck who turned out to be willing to bring us to the hospital. Shortly thereafter pastor Saint Lo was on his way to hopefully receive treatment for his pain. On the way we were sitting in the cab of the truck where Saint Lo moaned and groaned as we hit one pothole after another. I tried to hold on to his shaking body as much as I could. When arriving in the city of Pignon where the hospital is located, we had to stop along the road to ask a family member of the pastor to come with us to the hospital. In Haiti it is a must to have someone with you in the hospital to take care of you. We stopped in front of the house that he pointed out and a lady came out to talk with us. She agreed that she would come right away to meet us at the hospital. Another lady came, I thought from the same house, carrying half an avocado in her hand and asked the pastor for money to buy bread. Saint Lo stretched himself trembling with pain to reach in the pocket of his pants. He pulled out all he had, two coins worth about a quarter, and gave them to the lady. He indicated he was done and we rode on to the hospital. While trying to hold on to him to ease the pain I asked him if that was his daughter. With a face showing surprise and the pain he endured he looked at me and said: No, I have never seen her before but they are all God's children and need to eat. Greg and I were stunned after watching this display of love. Of an unashamed love! We dropped off one of God's warriors at the hospital, one who tries to be like Jesus! May he be healed completely.