“For surely I know the
plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your
welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” – Jeremiah 29:11
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| Noah and His Sisters |
I have so many vivid memories from my recent trip to
Zimbabwe. But I keep coming back to one story – the story of Noah and his
siblings – the story that opened my eyes to the depth of the pain and grief and
vulnerability of these orphans in Zimbabwe.
We spent the first few days visiting with orphans who had
been in the ZOE Ministry empowerment program for just over a year. These
children had built strong relationships within their Working Groups – mutually
supportive groups of approximately 60 orphans who are like an extended family.[1]
Each family had just harvested an
abundance of corn – enough to feed every mouth for a year, with some left over
to sell. Beyond building relationships and finding food security, the children
were developing useful business skills, finding ways to return to school, and
growing in their faith. Each group we met greeted us with beautiful songs sung
in harmony and each group prayed with us. We saw orphans who seemed to be well on
their way to being independent and happy.
Given the startling cultural and economic and political
differences between the United States and Zimbabwe, it was easy to lose sight
of the bizarre reality that the children we met were orphans – households
headed by teenagers. It was easy to forget that their parents had died of
HIV/AIDS, often leaving them with nothing but each other. During these first
visits, I simply didn’t think to ask the hard questions.
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| Noah's Home |
And then, after seeing so much success, we went to visit 14-year-old
Noah and his 9-year-old twin siblings – newly identified orphans who were at
the beginning of the empowerment journey. As we walked down the dirt path to
their home I was immediately struck by their isolation: there were no other
people present, no visible community, and no animals – no chickens, no goats,
no dogs. Just three kids sitting in a neatly swept compound.
As Noah began to tell his story, tears ran down his face.
His parents had died several years ago. His older sister left last year after
she got pregnant. The past year has been incredibly hard. Some days there was
absolutely nothing to eat. Some days Noah found work, but a full day’s work
would barely pay enough for the three of them to have one simple meal. During
the cool winter nights the three children shared one blanket on the floor. A
neighbor had pity on them and gave them a 3-foot by 5-foot patch of garden to
grow greens – something, but far from enough. The field next to the house
remained unplowed and unplanted because Noah lacked the resources and the
skills.
And tears ran down our faces as we listened to Noah tell a
story of grief and isolation and fear.
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| The Southern Alamance Working Group: These orphans have been together for one year. |
But the full depth of Noah’s pain did not hit me that day. I
kept clinging to a future with hope. The knowledge that, thanks to ZOE
Ministry, one year from now Noah and his siblings will be part of an extended
family of orphans. The certainty that Noah will plant his field, he will
establish a garden, he will have chickens. The conviction that God has plans
for Noah – plans for his welfare and not for harm. That day I walked away not
fully grasping Noah’s tears.
Last week I ran into a friend who made an observation about
a mutual friend: “I notice that you two don’t hang out any more.” Before any
words could come out of my mouth, tears sprung from my eyes. Grief and pain that
I thought I had carefully concealed bubbled up to the surface, unbidden. And in
that moment, as I tried to regain my composure, I thought of Noah’s tears.
Healing takes time. Next year when a group from Southern
Alamance visits Noah, they will see smiles instead of tears. They will see food
instead of an empty pot. They will see a field planted with corn instead of
wild grass. They will see Noah surrounded by his new extended family singing
songs and praying together. What
they may not see is the grief and pain that remain concealed just below the
surface. Healing takes time.
I don’t doubt for a minute that the smiles on the faces of
the orphans who have been in the program for a year are real. ZOE Ministry has given
them a future with hope. But the staggering reality of their loss is also real.
The obstacles they face each day are almost inconceivable. And there are so
many orphans who are still incredibly vulnerable. They confront the reality of
hunger and fear and grief and isolation every day. Their tears are very real.
Today I learned that Noah has run away from home, leaving
his siblings alone. Apparently someone has been bullying him. While I stand
firm in the conviction that God has a plan for Noah, a plan for his welfare and
not for harm, I also believe Noah’s story is a call to action. While the social
workers in Zimbabwe are looking for Noah, we can pray for Noah and for other
orphans like him. While ZOE Ministry continues to empower orphans across
Africa, we can find ways to empower the least and the last and the lost in our
own communities. I truly believe God is making all things new. With God’s help,
Noah’s tears will never have the final word.
[1] For more on ZOE’s
empowerment program and working groups, see
http://www.zoeministry.org/about/orphan-empowerment-program/.
