Isaac

Day 6 (Tuesday) "Orphan: someone who has no living parents, a term usually used to define a minor child" When I lost my mom to cancer, I was in my twenties. I was happily married, still had my dad, and had a strong bond with my two sisters who lived in town close to me. My support system also consisted of my church, extended family, coworkers, and close friends. Love encircled me on every side, and prayers for me to recover from my loss lifted me up consistently. I was a young adult who hadn't lived with my mom or depended on her for maternal nurturing for a number of years. And yet, when she died, I immediately felt the sharp unfairness of what it would mean to live a life without a mom. The unconditional love that isn't exactly blind but is definitely biased in favor of her child; the protective canopy of fierce maternal instinct; the keeper of memories and traditions; the spiritual mentor; the listening, the holding, the love... the love. A hole in my life shredded open the instant she died. In some ways, having babies myself only helped to define the loss even more clearly. I hold my kids maybe a little more tightly because I know how precious a mother's arms are. I became obssessive about organizing photos and describing them so my kids would always know about their childhoods because I know how precious a mother's memories are. I say "I love you" a hundred times a day because I know how precious a mother's words are. I pray for my family in a never-ending stream-of-consciousness in my head because I know how precious a mother's prayers are. I know all this because I've lost it all. All that is in the back of my mind every time I think about the orphans we help in Rwanda. These babies, kids, and teens who have no mom to rock them to sleep, to sing songs to them, to tell them how cute they were when they were little, to stand up for them in a confrontation, to mentor their spiritual relationship... If it hurts me this much as an adult, nine years into not having a mom...oh, these poor kids. The tragedy would doom them, and me, to a life of despair, if not for one thing: My Jesus saves. The day that we met Isaac, this Truth came to life before our eyes. On a sunny afternoon we walked onto the campus of Wisdom School, a top scoring school in Rwanda that takes orphans and rich kids alike. Isaac fell into the first category. Our team gathered into the headmaster's front office, and we heard about the vision of the school. 264/852 students there are orphans. The headmaster of the school, Elie, is a genocide survivor. A psychology major, Elie felt called to "give a stone in the rebuilding of our country." He said he knew that the U.S. and other countries would help with reconciliation and rebuilding, but he also knew these would be temporary means to an end. The Rwandans, he said firmly, would have to be responsible for their own future. He began investigating, canvassing the homes of the area, interviewing people. All kids in the north where he was working fit into four groups: orphans from genocide, orphans because parents were in prison for genocide crimes, AIDS kids, and kids with parents and no issues. Each group had its own set of stigmas and issues. While many organizations worked to reconcile Hutu and Tutsi adults after the genocide, Elie realized that if these four groups of kids couldn't begin to work together and learn to love each other, the future of Rwanda would come to a stand-still. Eventually, he formed the Wisdom School. All over the grounds are landscaped pathways between buildings. Lining each side of these pathways are small white signs with sayings on them. "Respect the Ten Commandments," "obey rules," "study hard," and "always forgive" are just a few. The school seeks out kids who are heads of household to try to help. Just in Elie's area alone there were 1500 kids aged 12 and under who were the head of household (meaning they were the sole provider of the children younger than them in the household). Isaac, an orphan, is a student at the Wisdom School, and he was the purpose of our visit to the school that afternoon. Some LOTH folks have taken him under their wing, and though a native to the rural Bukonya mountain community, he now lives with a couple from Arizona who live in Rwanda right now. He attends Wisdom School and is getting a great education. That afternoon we came to see how he was, encourage him, and bring him gifts of a brand-new soccer ball and hat from his favorite team, sent to him by Rob from LOTH. He stood by the wall, his little face a mixture of shyness and delight at the unexpected visitors. His grades were good, he told us. His favorite thing about school? The Bible study he has started and now leads with some other fellow preteens at the school. Dimples spring up as he talks about the Bible study group. What else does he like? Football (soccer, to us Americans). On that note, Karen pulls the surprise gifts out of her bag- the ball and the hat. Isaac's reaction was immediate and priceless. The reserved little boy who had stood at attention with his back against the wall LEPT towards Karen, eyes shining, a grin splitting his face. The red hat went on his head, the ball was examined, and he looked like a kid at Christmas. We asked him how we could pray for him. His answer: pray for the Bible study, for the lady he lives with who is having a baby soon, and for US to have safe travels. The prayer requests of an innocent heart who loves Jesus included me. I was humbled and in love with this child and reminded once again that we are all in this together. Praise God that His love reaches far and wide and is more than sufficient for all those who have shredded, gaping holes in their lives. Psalm 18 says, "He reached down from on high and took hold of me...He brought me out into a spacious place. He rescued me because He delighted in me." When I'm back at home in America and my heart breaks for the orphans I've come to know personally - the ones I've held and rocked, the ones I've sang and danced with...when I wonder if anyone put them to sleep, talked them through a spiritual crisis, stood up for them and made them feel special...I'll remember Isaac and the fact that a relationship with Jesus rescues, satisfies, and is sufficient.