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Caring For, Rather Than Caring About

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Caring about those in need is good.  Caring for those in need is better.  Why did it take me so long to understand and act on this?

Neither Joline nor I had ever been on a “mission trip” until we were in our forties.  My first such endeavor was coming to Uganda in January of 2010.  Recognizing that if I could do it, so could she, Joline (accompanied by Jessica) went to Honduras six months later.

Looking back on why we waited so long to get personally involved in missions work, Joline and have been able to identify plenty of excuses.  We both came from families of limited means – my parents were both public school teachers and there were four kids to feed and clothe, and things were even tighter for Joline’s family with seven kids at various times living under the roof of her blended family.  We were both involved in sports and we (well, at least Joline) took our studies very seriously.  Additionally, growing up, our worlds were quite small.  We could recognize third world countries on maps, but had little information about them and no one we knew was going there.  Our experiences were limited to periodic reports from the few missionaries our small church supported.  Both of us cared about the suffering and oppressed around the world.  We had contributed over the years to various mission-related organizations and groups and are sponsoring a child through World Vision.  This support is, of course, critical to the whole mission enterprise, and I don’t at all want to diminish its importance.  Indeed, providing financial resources can make a huge difference in the lives of the recipients, as my former student Holly proved by organizing a crew of people to bless Henry’s family as I posted about here.

But we had done virtually nothing to care for those in need in person.

When we were praying about whether we would respond to what we believed to be the recent call to Africa, we gradually came to the realization that perhaps this call was more about our children than it was about us.  We ultimately concluded that it was time for us to move beyond caring about and get to caring for.

This distinction had been brought home to me in a different context early in my teaching career.  Ken Elzinga, a renowned economics professor at the University of Virginia, had visited Pepperdine and delivered a series of lectures about what he thought it meant to be a Christian professor.  One of the points he made irrevocably changed me from that moment forward.  When students come to your office with challenging life problems, he implored the audience of professors, don’t just tell them you will pray for them.  Instead, take the opportunity (and the risk) and ask them if you can pray with them, right then and there, he encouraged.  In other words, be present with them in their pain and struggles, rather than caring about them from a distance.  Since then, I have endeavored to pray with my students whenever the opportunity arises.

Our time in Africa has been deeply impacting for Joline and me; it has been life changing for our children.  They are not hearing and praying about abandoned orphans and lonely widows.  They are holding them, singing to them, praying with them.

Joshua and Jennifer with a Widow

Jennifer at an Orphanage

Jessica in the Clinic

 

This experience is transformative.  Some of the changes are immediately noticeable, but I am confident that most of the impact is yet to be fully understood.  For example, this experience has already altered Jessica’s life and career trajectory.  She has now resolved to be a medical provider on an international level.  She is already researching medical schools and their programs for after she graduates from Pepperdine (more than five years from now).  She is in her element with the sick and hurting, and embraces opportunities to get into the middle of their suffering in an effort to provide relief.

One of the events God used to start working on my heart was a visit to Pepperdine by Baroness Caroline Cox, a member of the British House of Lords who is one of the leading humanitarians of this generation.  One of our students asked her whether it is better to visit the oppressed around the world or to instead send the money it would have cost to visit in person.  Her response made a significant impact me and prepared me to heed the call to Africa when it came at the end of a Bob Goff speech in 2009:

“Please go.  The fact that you visit . . . will be a great comfort for those people you do visit, because the kind of people we have been talking about, they often feel forgotten . . . and the fact that you care enough to go will be a blessing to them.  You don’t necessarily have to take anything specific in terms of professional skills.  The fact that you are there will mean a lot to them – you care enough to leave your comfort zone, you care enough to go.  And when you come back, you’ll be able to be an advocate for them . . .  Other opportunities will open up which will show you your way forward through whatever door God may want you to go through in your life . . . When you come back, you’re going to have a massive ripple effect.”

I have been privileged to see this modeled in several individuals who have become heros to me, three of whom have written books about how God whispered (or yelled) to them to become involved.  While I have only read one of these books, I highly recommend all three.  The first is “Kisses from Katie.”

Kisses from Katie

I have written about Katie Davis previously and have very much enjoyed the opportunity to get to know her here in Uganda.  She is a remarkable young woman and her book is about how and why she ended up moving to Uganda at the age of 19, and how and why a few years later she is the mother to 13 girls and the director of a huge ministry serving a large portion of a poor, rural area in Uganda.

The second is “Love Does” by Bob Goff.

Love Does

This book was just released in the United States two weeks ago, but doesn’t come out on Kindle or Audiobooks until May 1.  I am positively jealous of my friends who have already read this book.  As I have written about previously, Bob is the person most directly responsible for the Gashes moving to Uganda.  The reviews are uniformly favorable for this inspiring book about love in action.

The third is “Go and Do” by Jay Milbrandt.

Go and Do

Jay’s book was also released in the United States earlier this month, but just came out on Kindle yesterday.  I have downloaded it and have already begun to dig into it.  As detailed in Chapter 14 of Jay’s book, Jay was integrally involved in convincing me to come to Uganda in January of 2010.  Chapter 14 also provides an overview of how and when Henry and I met and kindly alludes to the book Henry and I are writing about how our lives providentially collided.

In addition to these three members of my cloud of witnesses, I am also encouraged and inspired by the Gregston family (our Twin Family) as they continue to travel around Uganda providing medical care to those who otherwise have no access to it.  They have been “adopting” various children with serious medical needs along the way and arranging for life-saving treatments and operations that would otherwise be out of reach to them.  I encourage you to follow along with their blog here if you are not already doing so.

I have also been regularly inspired by my students at Pepperdine, many of who travel around the world to serve those in need.  Equally inspiring, however, are the students who regularly feed the day laborers at the Malibu Labor Exchange, who drive down to skid row in Los Angeles to assist the homeless in various endeavors at Pepperdine’s legal clinic at the Union Rescue Mission, and who visit incarcerated youths at a local detention center.

It is self-evident that there are innumerable opportunities, locally and internationally, to care for those in need.  I have come to the realization that simply caring about them isn’t enough anymore.

Goffing Around in Uganda, Part II

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Continuing on from yesterday . . .

When Bob Goff, the two pastors, Margaret (court registrar), and I walked into the warden’s office, it was clear that he remembered Bob, Margaret, and me from our visit in November.  I suspect that having a witch doctor give his life to Jesus while praying with a couple mzungus and a charismatic preacher woman is not an everyday occurrence for the warden in his office.

Before Kabe (the witch doctor) arrived, we talked with the warden about the prison conditions and learned that Kabe shared a cell with 106 other prisoners.  In trying to envision what this looked like, we asked where everyone slept.  The warden explained that there wasn’t room for beds, so the prisoners slept on the floor.  Most of them had small mattresses, but some of them slept directly on the floor.  After a few minutes, a guard walked Kabe into the warden’s office.

As before, Kabe was in the prison-issue bright yellow shorts and shirt.  But his demeanor was very different than last November.  He was much more confident and smiled when he saw Bob, who, of course, gave him a big hug.

“Thank you for coming back to see me,” Kabe said in pretty good (and loud) English.  He had spoken no English last time and had spoken just barely above a whisper.

“I told you I would, and I have been thinking and praying about you a lot.  How have you been?” Bob replied.

Kabe turned to Margaret and asked for her to interpret because he said it was easier to speak in his native language.  Kabe proceeded to explain that he has been doing much better since the prior visit when he “got saved.”  He says he thinks about home less often, and doesn’t get sad when he does.  He also reported that he has decided that if he ever gets out of prison, he wants to become an evangelist for Jesus.  He said that he has been talking to some of his fellow prisoners about his conversion.  Kabe also told us he was grateful for the money we had left with the warden to put on his account – he had purchased sugar, rice, and a few extra things.

Bob then presented Kabe with a Bible printed in his native language, though his English Bible was in his front shirt pocket and appeared to be getting quite a bit of use.

During the course of our thirty-minute visit with Kabe, we learned that his father was a witch doctor and Kabe took over his “practice” when he died.  Kabe said that earlier in his life, he had been Christian but had turned away.

It was so encouraging to see the palpable change in his life that his decision to follow Jesus had brought.  I will confess to having previously wondered whether his conversion would “stick” or whether it was a case of him doing what he thought we wanted him to do.  The pastors shared some scriptures with him and we had a big group prayer and exchanged lots of hugs.  At one point, Bob asked Kabe where he slept.

“On the floor.”

“On a mattress on the floor, or directly on the floor?”

“On the floor.  I have no mattress.”

Bob then turned to the warden.  “How can we get him a mattress?”

Within a few moments, Bob had arranged for the warden to get the mattress, and we left some additional money for more sugar and rice for Kabe.

“One more thing,” Bob said.  “Are the prisoners allowed to wear shoes?”

“Yes, if they have them,” replied the warden quizzically.

Bob sat down and instructed Kabe to do the same.  Bob then removed his dress shoes and put them on Kabe.  Perfect fit.  Kabe looked into Bob’s gleaming eyes through his own wet eyes and they hugged again.

Margaret then asked the warden if she could come back to preach the gospel to the prisoners.  The warden said that as long as he had advance notice, that would be fine.  How many of the prisoners would attend, asked Margaret.  All 732 of them, replied the warden.

One of the pastors with us loved the idea so much that he said that he would come back for it.  He asked Kabe if he might be interested in sharing his testimony with the other prisoners.  Kabe said that he would be happy to do so.  No date has been set, but there was some talk about this happening in May.  I definitely won’t miss this.

I couldn’t help but grin broadly as I walked out behind Bob who was walking a bit more gingerly in his black socks.

Out in the prison parking lot, Hero was waiting for us.  He had ridden with Margaret (with whom he is now living in Kampala), but didn’t have any idea where we were or with whom we were meeting.  He was every bit as playful and silly as ever, so it was good catching up with him.

Jim and Hero Outside the Maximum Security Prison

Earlier that morning, Hero had seen his mom and younger brother for the first time in five months.  Margaret tells us that it was a joyful reunion.  Later that afternoon, our group had lunch with nearly all of the judges who had previously visited Pepperdine (about ten of them).  In fact, it was the Chief Justice’s birthday so we all sang happy birthday to him and the restaurant owner presented him with a huge bouquet of roses.

The following day, the Gashes got up early and drove out to see Henry at his school for “Sports Day” – one of two days in the semester that we are allowed to visit him at the school.  It resembled an American version of “Field Day” with lots of races and tug-of-war contests among the various dorms/houses.  We enjoyed catching up with him and hearing how things are going – quite well.

Henry, Joshua, and Henry's Physics Teacher at Sports Day

Unfortunately, I had to miss the Goffing that took place on Saturday.  Bob rented a house, and then the big group split into several smaller groups and spent the better part of the day buying furniture and furnishings for the otherwise empty house.  By the end of the day, it was ready to provide a fresh start for more than a dozen former prostitutes that will be rescued over the course of the next couple of weeks.  Bob’s organization, Restore International, and a couple churches are partnering to provide for these vulnerable girls with a new life.

Needless to say, all of this has been quite inspiring.  But then again, time with Bob always is.

They Both Used Knives

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The day began with Bob Goff leaving San Diego at 2:00 a.m. on his way to Cedars Sinai Hospital.  Bob had convinced nearly everyone involved to allow him to scrub up and assist with the operation, but alas, he couldn’t get past the hospital’s final line of defense – the lawyers.  Lawyers too often mess up the fun.  Unable to complete a last-minute reversal and get into the operating theater, Bob was there in the waiting room when I arrived at 7:30 a.m.  Bob had spent some time with the surgeon that morning and had presented him with a framed picture of Hero, the 9 year-old Ugandan boy on whom the surgeon was preparing to operate, hoping to at least partially reverse the damage done by a witch doctor now in jail for the rest of his life.  Bob and I caught up for a few minutes and then connected with Ted and Fayanna Worrell, the husband and wife with whom Hero is living while he is here in the United States.  They are volunteer host parents through Mending Kids International, a wonderful organization that, well, mends kids from around the world.  The Worrells had just left Hero with the operating staff and they reported that while he was a little nervous, he was quite brave.

The surgery started at around 8:00 a.m. and was scheduled to last for eight hours.  The plan was for the surgeon to use most of the skin and tissue (including blood vessels and a nerve) from Hero’s left forearm as the donor skin and tissue, and then to take a skin-only graft from his right thigh to be placed over the new void on his left arm.  We spoke with the Worrells for twenty minutes or so and then set out in search of some breakfast.  We fanned out at the coffee shop and worked separately until the early afternoon when we reconvened for lunch.  Bob and Ted each received a text message from the surgeon at the halfway point and he reported that all was going according to plan.  We were later joined by one of the coordinators for Mending Kids and we all waited and tried to work for the last couple of hours, checking the clock and wondering aloud regularly when the surgery might be over.  Finally, at 4:00 p.m., we left the coffee shop and returned to the waiting room.  About a half hour later, the doctor came out.

I will stop short of declaring that what the surgeon did with Hero today was a miracle because only God perform miracles.  I will say, however, that God worked powerfully through the surgeon to take a huge step toward restoring to Hero what the witch doctor took away from him.  As the surgeon explained to us what he had done and how he had done it, I was struck with the realization that he and the witch doctor had both used knives to accomplish their purposes — another reminder that so many things we encounter in our daily lives (including our words) can be used to destroy or to restore.

After another two hours of waiting, we finally got to see Hero.  At first he was asleep and had tubes down his throat.  Within a few minutes, however, he started coughing, so the nurses removed the tubes and let him breathe unencumbered.  We gathered closely around him and offered a prayer of thanksgiving and blessing on him.  About ten minutes later, he started opening and closing his eyes for a few seconds at a time.  He had that faraway look that we all know and have seen in post-operative patients.

A few minutes later, he started focusing and responding to our encouragement and well wishes.  At one point, he said “I got this.  I have been cut with knives before and I have the strength to endure.  I was made by a God much bigger than you realize and I know he has plans for me.”  He didn’t say this with words, of course, but he communicated it in the way that many Ugandans, especially children, do.  I had been with Hero enough to see him do it about a dozen times – a barely perceptible nod (simultaneously jutting his chin slightly, raising his eyebrows just a hair, and tilting his head a couple degrees).  That was all we needed from him tonight – he came through it wonderfully and was able to let us know that he was OK.

We also learned from the surgeon today that he had been able to accomplish the whole thing in one shot such that unless there are complications, there will be no more surgeries.  This was an unexpected surprise for all of us and means that he will likely be able to return home to his mother within three months, rather than six.  He will be in the hospital for the next five days and has numerous checkups and tube removals ahead of him in the coming weeks, but our prayers have all been answered.  God is good.