Self-Sustaining Enterprises Blog

While sitting in church this morning on a hard, straight wooden pew listening to the poor quality but very loud music, I was thinking, “I wish I had a softer seat and they had a decent sound system here.” I was quickly convicted in my shallow, selfish thinking. How is it through all the challenges faced by the people here these folks can come and joyfully, sincerely thank God and sing, “Lord I love you”? Facing the constant physical and emotional toll of extreme generational poverty in their everyday life, I wondered, “Do they come because it is their only source of hope? Do they come because maybe there could be some help, some program the church offers? Do they come because it is the cultural thing to do?”

I think they come because at the deepest level of human existence, there is a need to connect to our Creator. Bereft of the materiality with which we in the developed world fill our lives, they stay connected to the one need common to all people (whether they realize it or not) –a relationship with God. From the world’s perspective the folks here have no reason to be thankful; extreme poverty, debilitating diseases, corrupt government, selfish leaders, pitiful education, lack of water and power, and the list goes on. And yet they are here, and they are joyful and they are thankful and they are sincere.

There is a woman with her eyes closed, singing with serenity on her face that defies the logic of the world.  There is a man standing with a smile on his face, clapping and praising his Lord singing, “There is no friend like Jesus. No not one.” When she leaves this place she will return to a little mud-brick house with a rusted zinc roof that has no water, no power, no decent sanitation. He will return to malaria, typhoid, and cholera. She will return to eking out a living selling vegetables, chicken feed, or phone cards. He will return to no job, living with his widowed mother-in-law, keeping his late brother’s children as well as his own, and wondering how he is going to provide for them.

Driving home in our big, beautiful car I thought, “I would grumble if we had to walk. After all, it’s at least a mile and we would have to pass through poor neighborhoods and step over “grey” water and smell and see things we find offensive.”  As I sat down to write this on one of our 2 laptops, I realized, “I would grumble if we had to share one. That would be so inconvenient.”  We happen to have power right now, but if we didn’t and wanted it, I would just start up the generator. I would really grumble if I didn’t have one of those.

What right do we have to question God; why he allows poverty and pain and why he doesn’t just do something about it, when these people, the ones who are living it, still bow their heads and say, “Thank you, Lord, because you have allowed me to draw another breath. Thank you because you care about the poor, the oppressed, the orphan, and the widow, of which I am one. Thank you because you care about me, my family, and you know what we are going through and you have not forgotten us.” I wonder, does my strength of conviction run that deep?

Faith is not just believing God exists. Faith is knowing He cares and trusting in His infinite love, mercy, grace and presence even in our darkest moments of physical, spiritual, and emotional struggle.  If I walked in the shoes of the people here, would I still know and trust as they do? I pray that when my times of testing come, I will have the peace and joy I saw in church this morning; gifts that come from true faith.

Sai anjima,

Brian