Humbling & Life Changing

A reflection from Anawim Home Team member, Jess Brown, on her time serving at Anawim Home:

There is humbling evidence throughout Nigeria that God’s love and compassion shines through the simplicity of life. The daily works of Sr. Oresoa and the Sisters of the Poorest of the Poor are predictably modest and self-sacrificing. Without fear or complaint, the sisters live a meager existence, rising early each day for Mass, serving as best they can the needs of so many and giving of themselves in every awe-inspiring way.

It was heartwarming and almost discomforting to see the tears of joy and overwhelming thanks from Sr. Julie who had toiled in the kitchen to prepare our meals each day when our Anawim Team presented her with a simple set of knives which we had purchased for her in the city.

But it was in the eyes of the children that God’s grace was so evident. In some ways, their lives were so very different from mine and the friends that I have in the U.S. These children lived without the distractions of technology, without the comfort of regular electricity and running water, without the guarantee of a next meal. And yet, they smiled with dignity in the simplest of pleasures – receiving pencil sharpeners and erasers from our team, reading ethnically rich novels, playing soccer on the front lawn, performing daily chores, and merely sharing a conversation with someone who really cared about them in the moment.

Daily visits to the Infant Jesus School allowed us to share in the laughs and cries of the primary students. Sister Oresoa insisted that we teach the students American songs and games. The boys and girls welcomed the opportunity to learn the words “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little star” and “Jesus Loves Me.” They were eager to dance in a conga line, play “Duck, Duck, Goose,” or follow the directions to “Simon Says.” I was particularly honored to take part in their joys of graduation. For a week I shared laughs with the primary students while learning and practicing a cultural dance to be performed at the promotion ceremonies. My life-changing experience has truly taught me how similar we all are as God’s children in Jesus’ image. We all have hopes and dreams and fears and needs. We all desire to be heard and to be appreciated and to be hugged.

The mission efforts of Nativity reach well beyond the boundaries of Timonium and Abuja and Jos. I am forever grateful to my many family members and friends of all faiths and backgrounds who have supported me and the team in our journey. Without the prayers, support and contributions from so many who also believe in the awesome power of God’s presence across the globe, this experience would not have been possible for me. I am humbled and privileged to have had the opportunity to serve as an equal to all in the world, which is truly one family in God’s eyes.

Photos:
1. Graduation dance at Infant Jesus School
2. Conga line
3. Adrienne, Sister Julie, Jess, & Kathi
4. "Simon Says"
5. Nursery and primary school student with Jess
6. Dance practice

Grace in Action

A reflection from Anawim Home Team member, Kathi Rogers, on her time serving at Anawim Home:

Traveling to Nigeria has left me with many new memories and impressions. One of the most compelling lessons I learned was inadvertently taught to me by observing Sister Oresoa as she did her work. She likely is unaware of the silent lessons she taught me as I observed her tirelessly providing resources to the needy, regardless of the limitless need. Others may have become frustrated due to the overwhelming and never ending poverty in comparison the restricted resources and limited interest in helping.

Not Sister Oresoa. She continued to persevere, offering each person with whom she came in contact not only food or clothing, but equally important, she provided each individual a healthy dose of hope and kindness. One day, after being particularly saddened by the conditions, the overwhelming need and the recognition of the huge amount of people who were suffering in these conditions, the team discussed the reality of what impact our small group of missionaries could possibly have on helping the people we were serving. I was reminded of a beautiful passage based on a story by Loren Eisely, which a colleague once shared with me:

"There was a man who was walking along a sandy beach where thousands of starfish had been washed up on the shore. He noticed a boy picking the starfish one by one and throwing them back into the ocean. The man observed the boy for a few minutes and then asked what he was doing. The boy replied that he was returning the starfish to the sea, otherwise they would die. The man asked how saving a few, when so many were doomed, would make any difference whatsoever? The boy picked up a starfish and thew it back into the ocean and said "it made a difference to that one..." The man left the boy and went home, deep in thought of what the boy had said. He soon returned to the beach and spent the rest of the day helping the boy thrown starfish into the sea."

We can all lean from this philosophy by contributing in some way, everyday, to someone who appears to be struggling. Whether it is a smile to someone who appears downtrodden, serving the needy in Nigeria, or anything in between, a kind gesture that serves to provide dignity and kindness to any individual on any given day, CAN make a difference. We may never be aware of the effect our positive action might have on any particular person, however what I learned in Nigeria is that grace is in the action, not necessarily the outcome.

Faith Heals

A reflection from Faith Alive Hospital Team member, Bill Baird, on his time serving at Faith Alive Hospital:

Faith Heals! I describe my experience in Nigeria as humbling and an incredible experience in faith. Our trip to this amazing African town of Jos, Nigeria and Faith Alive Hospital was, as I expected, a true test of my boundaries. I told my daughter Emma that this trip we were taking was "routine" for her given her previous mission experience but was way outside my comfort zone. Emma broke those boundaries down in her presentation at a morning devotional at the hospital (through a Hausa translator in front of dozens of patients and staff) that she challenged us to "open the eyes of our hearts". She said we needed to not limit our view of life and the people around us through the myopic, critical view of our eyes but with the compassion and love in our hearts. It was this perspective that would give us a clear view of the people around us, the needs that they have and a clear path that God had provided us to him.

It was through this heart centered view that I saw God in Dr. Chris, Pastor Ben, Goddy, Greg, Pastor Esther, Joshua, Daniel, Blessing, Ezekiel, Vanessa, Ibrahim, the children and so many others for the joy, care, love and commitment they brought to their work and to all they came in contact with. Through this view, God was in my teammates Emma, Brian and Jonathan as we shared our experiences each day in our time spent together, our reflections and our prayer. HE was present in our kindred connection to our partners at Anawim and in our faithful connection to the Home Team and our Nativity parish. God was even in the simple greeting we received everywhere we went, "You are welcome!", and they meant it. The eyes of my heart were opened. Faith Heals!

Anawim Home Children

A brief reflection from Anawim Home Team member, Joey Barczak, on his time at serving with the children at Anawim Home.

My most rewarding experiences in Nigeria were those that involved the children of Anawim Home. Whether it was going with them to school, playing soccer in the afternoon, playing cards at night, teaching them computer classes, or simply spending time with them, the children always got an immense amount of job from anything you put forth. They relished any little bit of time or yourself you were willing to give them and they truly made the trip a special one for everyone on the Anawim Home team.

Serving the Destitute

A reflection from Anawim Home Team member, Gin Gin Diokno, on her time at serving with the Sisters of the Poorest of the Poor:

Destitute: (adjective) without the basic necessities of life. That’s according to the Oxford dictionary. In Nigeria, the word comes alive in the most raw representation I have ever witnessed.

For the Missionary Sisters for the Poorest of the Poor, the word is reserved for a certain group of people. They are not only lacking basic human needs like water, food, clothing and shelter; they have been the forgotten members of their society. These people, mostly adult men, have mental illness severe enough that they are not able to keep up with basic activities of daily living. They usually end up roaming in the streets looking for day-to-day sustenance. At times they become violent, thus the rationalization for keeping them chained in closed quarters. The more unmanageable ones are shackled to heavy pieces of logs which again gives a new meaning to restraints. I saw one young man strong enough to drag his log as he shuffled towards us. They are confined within a small compound of dark rooms. Mattresses seemed optional. Their mental problems are usually treated with traditional medicine which include herbal preparations and idol worshiping, at least from what we’ve seen. They are allowed to move more freely when they show improvement in their conditions. If they are able, they help with productive tasks like stripping leaves from stalks of palm to make household broomsticks. As elaborate as I can describe this unfortunate scene, there are no sufficient words Oxford can lend me right now to capture the stench of poverty and loss of human dignity.

Knowing I grew up in a third-world country, one of my team members asked me at one point if I have seen poverty like this. I have been to a community where they literally live on a landfill and sustain themselves with whatever they can scramble out of this “smokey mountain.” I thought I have seen some of the most destitute, but not until now. During our end-of-the-day reflection, one asked “Where is God in all these?” There was just silence. How can one attempt to even answer that question? There is one thing I know for sure I took away from this surreal experience. I saw God in the dedicated work that Sister Oresoa and her community of humble servants do. Her own family has taken a few of them to their home, sheltered them, and allowed them to work on their farm. Once a month or so, the sisters visit several of these compounds (take note there are around 15 in her own hometown alone) and share some of these basic needs. That day, we handed out plastic bags of rice, water and hard-boiled eggs which were very much appreciated. She prayed, sang and danced with them. She gave the caretakers encouragement for trying to do their job with the meager resources that they have. Her presence gives them hope that they are not totally forgotten and that somebody out there still cares.

That afternoon was probably the most intense and challenging part of my Anawim experience that I felt compelled to write about it, bordering on catharsis. It might have hit me in my gut but with it is a greater awe of Sister Oresoa’s commitment to truly serve the poorest of the poor and how much more love she still has to share. This difficult day of ministry just reminded me it always has to rain before you see a rainbow.

Serving the Destitute

A reflection from Anawim Home Team member, Adrienne Brooks, on her time at Anawim Home:

I knew when I came on this trip that I would probably see things that would really affect me emotionally and spiritually. By now, I think everyone knows that Nigeria is a third-world, poverty stricken nation. Understanding that concept is one thing, to actually experience it is another. I have a few pictures of "the destitute", but honestly, a picture can't express the overwhelming sense of hopelessness, discomfort, grief, pity, and so many other emotions that I felt. These are places where people have been unwillingly taken off the street (many are mentally disabled), and forced to live in this place. Those who are strong enough to run away, back to the street where they can beg and maybe get food, are chained to logs, or their feet are chained together. I am not sure how often they are fed, but the system is corrupt and I does not appear that they eat everyday.

After enjoying a lovely day at a wedding, we went to feed the destitute Being there, seeing them, smelling them, hearing them moan or shout, feeling them claw my hands trying to get to the food faster, watching some pick up the logs that they are chained to get closer, was unlike anything I could ever describe in America. I have never seen a such a desperate need to survive. It was animalistic. I have been to many places around the country, on numerous service trips, two different places in Mexico, and there is nothing I could compare this to. At all.

The idea of voluntourism had been playing in my mind since I began planning and applying for this mission. That day, as I watched people bite into the plastic bags that held the rice, not caring if they were eating plastic or food only that they were eating, I realized that that day, I made a difference to someone. I don't know their names, they probably won't remember me, but their hands groping the air, tearing eggs and bags of water out of my hands will be ingrained in my heart forever. To them, I made a difference, that day.

As we went to these places, we were quiet. We didn't know what to say as we looked around at each other. Sister Oresoa was yelling at them to stay back and to only take one, but the other missionaries and I were silent. When we got in the car, felt like none of that had just happened. It was all a rush. Sister even said I was traumatized. I think we all were. I looked at Jess. We both had tears in our eyes, but we didn't know what to do. Sister was so strong and just moved on to the next stop. And we were out of the car again, fighting off more hands, blocking out more shouts for a second bag. When we got back in the van, we were silent again. I'm sure we were all thinking about how someone could live like that, how God could let that happen. When we made eye contact, we gave a weak smile and looked away, no one had words.

I have not quite figured out why God lets things like this happen. I only know that there are people out there, fighting off starvation every single day, chained to logs, unable to run away, to be free. I don't know what I can do for them anymore, now that I'm back here, except tell there story. If I can make one more person aware of this, make one more person pray for these people, then God will be happy.

This is a prayer I found while reflecting on such strong emotions:

O Lord, hear my cry pouring out from a troubled heart. The sorrow which clutches at my soul has driven me to You my protector, my True Friend in time of need. You know, my God, all my failings, my faults and my sins as well as the torment gripping my soul. My greatest sorrow should be for my disregard of Your holy commandments in the past, and I sincerely hope that you will grant me the grace of true contrition. O my Savior, hide not Your Face from me in this tribulation, let the light of Your Countenance shine upon me that I may be illuminated by Its love. If it be Your will, lighten this burden from me, yet should it be a means of my salvation, help me, help me O Lord, to carry this cross, for alone I can do nothing. Radiate Your love upon Your prodigal child O Lord, this beggar who knocks at Your door seeking shelter in Your Sacred Heart; this once proud earthen vessel made of clay seeks You, O Christ, and in a newly found faith, firmly believes that you will receive him in Your limitless Love and Mercy. Amen

Hwol Yarje Children

Below is a sampling of photos from Faith Alive Hospital Team's visit to Hwol Yarje, site of a school directed by Faith Alive Hospital. More will be posted in the coming weeks and shown at Church of the Nativity.