Struggling through

I have had a hectic past month at Amani and Thursday a couple weeks ago was almost my tipping point.

Ramona* is from Uganda. her husband worked for the government that was overthrown or something of that nature and they have been refugees in Kenya for some time. I automatically loved her. She reminds me of my mother, I think. That is probably one of many reasons why when Amani couldn't give her a loan the size she was asking for that I lost it.

As far as we know her son is in prison in Uganda. We don't know why or how long he has been there, but he is in his early twenties and from what i understand was working with computers and I think going to university and now he is in prison. Ramona is trying to go back there and bail him out and bring him here to Kenya. As far as we know there are some problems with this. First, if he leaves before a court date he could be seen as fleeing from justice and be at risk of never really being able t travel again, or even just put straight back into prison if he is flagged at the border of Uganda with a warrant. Second, we have no idea what he did. Third, there seems to be no clear answers in any direction about how much they would need to get him out or anything.

When I was in the room when Ramona was getting the loan she thanked us and thanked God and then said she wouldn't even be able to leave with this much. 10,000 shillings is about $150. it isn't much. We dropped twice that much on furniture this weekend. What do I do?
After taking the loan and seeming so downcast at the small amount she left the office leaving myself and Pat sitting in silence. Pat has a hard job. She is the HR person and in many ways the advocate for these women. She used to be a principal at an arts university. She is a sharp lady and I like her. She is tough but merciful; what a wonderful combination. We looked at each other and she said "what do we do?" and I looked at her and said "I don't know" and I busted into tears. I lost it. Pat talked me through her struggles working at Amani where these women are sometimes paid very little, although better than they would be in other places. She encouraged me that God loves them and we don't understand his ways and that money is not always the answer. I really appreciated it even if none of my questions are answered and my heart is still in turmoil.

Ramona is obviously in low spirits. She needs 9000 more shillings at least and I just don't think i can do that. I know I can't give it to her directly anyhow. As a person who is very much a gift-love-language person... this hurts my heart. I want to give her whatever i can, but i can't. Not without the details and not on the budget we have. how do I chose who to help?

Lori* is another one. She's been sick this week and I met her on the road on my way to work and she was going to the hospital. I wanted to throw her in a cab and bring her there myself, but it is hard with precedent setting. I realize poverty is multi-faceted. Helping someone for a season may actually be a burden if they become dependent. The best thing i can do is pray and continue to encourage them as they continue to work towards sustainability. I can help set up programs that will create jobs and opportunities and I am trying to do that. I'm just struggling with always seeing the real face of the poverty and hurt that we've come to help.

I meet so many people in difficult circumstances here, and not just financially. Many people regardless of their income need hope. Aid and missions workers need this even more than others often. They stare hard circumstances in the face daily and work their tails off to make change happen, often to little praise... if any. The amount of bitterness that can seep into their hearts is uncanny, and it is not always shown in the ways we would think.

The inability to listen to others well is one of those things I have noticed in a number of missions workers since we have been on this journey. It seems to spring directly from some of the bitterness they have acquired, often because they have been taken advantage of by someone or some organization. This is a huge attack on the work that relief workers do. Yes, there are often many people vying for position in our schedules, but what good are we if we cannot listen and really hear what is going on? We are very little good, especially in a cross cultural context where listening is key to our understanding which is key to learning how to serve.

I guess this brings me to self-care. Self-care for Aid workers, relief workers, and missionaries is paramount They need a support network that is often not given to them. Maybe this is a strange cry in an odd direction, but if you are reading this you should know that the situation I have been put in above is barely even the tip of the iceberg for many people out in the field. If I have learned anything from this experience so far, it is that working this type of work can be a very lonely road. I have been blessed by you, our supporters, friends, and family with a wonderful extended network of support. Still, I know that not all people in my position have that network. Please consider being the person who encourages someone who is out doing amazing peace-building and development work. It sounds all nice and fluffy, but it is a tough road and they need to hear from you especially during times of moral dilemmas (which generally is every day).

May we be agents of peace and hope wherever we go and in all that we do.
B

(*real names have been changed to protect the identity of those in vulnerable situations)