Discouragement and Hope

I was sitting down at an English ceremony when a thought hit me like a smack in the face. 

At an English Ceremony

Things were getting going and they were starting the ceremony as they always do with a word of prayer and a recitation from their holy book.  As I looked around at all the young faces holding their hands out in the customary form of prayer with blank looks on their faces and repeating “Amen” and “Amen” with every phrase in Arabic that they hardly understood, I thought of how this young generation of English students was already joining in a culture of bland religiosity and shallow faith.  I thought about how little seems to change, how dead and empty their eyes all seemed in that moment.  How I have lived here for nine years and have seen only small glimmers of change against the mostly unchanging whole, and I felt the despair wash over me—a feeling of futility and waste—“They will never change. It’s all a big waste of time. It looked like this 40 years ago and it will look like this a hundred years from now.”  Every so often I feel this way.  A passing shadow of gloom, when the lights of hope are shaded from my eyes.

Sunlight peeking through the clouds

The funny thing is, in a similar way, I have passing moments of great hope.  About a month ago I went to pay my respects to a friend whose grandfather had passed away.  This is a friend I’ve been studying with and whom I feel I’ve gotten to know pretty well. Still his heart and mind are no more in harmony with mine than the thousands of others who live here. I wanted to show him that I care for him and so went to the event.  It is not my habit to enter their house of worship, so I felt rather uncomfortable when I was ushered into the very center of the room for this memorial event.  At first I felt extremely uncomfortable, surrounded by men chanting in a language I didn’t understand in a place that I didn’t want to be.  And then suddenly, like dawn light peeping over the horizon, it struck me as wonderful.  Here I was, shining my light at the center of one of their most important cultural spots.  And I began to imagine all the men around me transformed—their eyes full of light, hope and peace.  Prayers offered in thanksgiving and praise.  Lives and families transformed and the very neighborhood changed into something new and wonderful.  I left the memorial service smiling.

Hope and despair.  Dark and light.  Status quo and radical change.  They all live here in this place and inside my heart.  I know just how hard it can be to see change.  We are creatures of habit and our minds are not easily changed.  But I also know that a mountain that has been dormant for hundreds of years can, in the blink of an eye, become an erupting volcano transforming a landscape and changing the horizon.  And scientists tell us that what looked dormant to us was actually building to something explosive.  Like the pebble that starts the avalanche, the spark that starts the fire, the straw that breaks that poor camel’s back.  Sometimes, change has been coming for a long time.  Can we be patient enough to wait for it?

Tom and our son on a hike

When the gloom comes, sometimes it is hard to shake it off.  I am comforted by the fact that I am not the first to feel that way.  King David’s words come to mind, “How long, oh Lord. How long?”  I’m also reminded of the changed lives that we have seen here. It may not be many compared to all the people on the islands, but change is possible.  It may not have come yet.  It may be I will not see it.  It may be that the bright day will be seen by others.  But I hold onto one thing.  It will come.  The day will come.  And so I have hope.

PRAYERS ANSWERED
The two sick toddlers on the small island are doing much better. The taxi strike ended, though it is unclear whether things were resolved in such a way as to prevent future strikes. Our medical colleague came from the French Island and had good meetings both here and on the big island. We are hopeful that these kinds of trips will lead to improvements in healthcare on the islands. It was also great to have our friend with us for a few days! He was also able to put in a good word for our medical teammates with some top health officials (they are still waiting for approval to start medical work). Our family and teammates were all granted our new year-long visas— we are very thankful that for English teachers on this island it has continued to be an easy process. Five new islanders were dunked last weekend — may they display new and changed lives to all those around them. Our new teammate finished her weeklong stay with an island family— she is well and the family were sad to see her go.

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Pray for our new teammate as she settles into her home and neighborhood and starts her new routines of language learning and building relationships. Continue to pray for our teammate suffering from long COVID that she’d see a marked improvement in her achiness, breathlessness and brain fog. Megan is hoping to finish the new edition of the grammar book in the next couple months— pray that she can find the time for the remaining edits, proofreads and formatting. The team is working on a collection of simple books in the local language. Once finished they would be used to promote local literacy— pray that this project would be a blessing and for wisdom in how to proceed. Some island brothers and sisters are traveling to mainland Africa for some meetings— pray that they would return encouraged and ready to share with others what they learned.