It was a long dirty hallway that led through corridor and lounge, and then another corridor and lounge, sprawling ahead of us like a circling race track that led us through the retirement home.
A cold cafeteria type room with desks surrounded by four chairs. A lone piano with yellow keys. A worn metal bowl held by old hands. Weary sets of eyes focused on our youthfulness. These were thing things that awaited us in the room that longed to be filled with joy and music.
Empty faces full of pain and boredom started to light up. Old boots with tattered laces began to bounce up and down. There was the lady with the funny hat that just wanted to dance, and the one who was thrilled to sit and clap. The man that soaked in the presence through closed eyes and the two random kids who tried to be as disturbing as possible.
Terry found his place back in preaching, Jarred enjoyed having the option of keys or strings on which to make music. Ness was awestruck by the level of love when a woman just passing in the hallway removed Ness’s glove and placed a ring from her own wrinkled hand onto Ness’s slim finger.
What was it about that place that seemed to just lack life? Was it the old age? Was it the dirt? The smell? The ware and tare? Was it the people themselves? Whatever it was that was there, we tried to bring a little of that which was lacking and paste it upon the previous dryness
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Tip of the Arrow
Coming here it was prophesied over us on two different occasions that Armenia would be like the tip of the arrow. Our outreach started broad in ministry and this will really pin point a lot. And also, YWAM Budapest has never sent a team to Armenia so we are kinda paving the way. Hal, our director back in Budapest really has a heart for Iran and wants to get involved with the Iranian people. His hope for us coming here was that we would get in contact with some Iranian refugees - and that we have.
My conception of “refugee” has always been of poor people displaced in a foreign country for reasons unknown to them. But I have been very wrong in this idea. A refugee is just someone living in a country outside of the one in which they belong - so I guess I am a refugee. We hooked up with a small Persian church (Iranian) and are trying to get in good relationship with them. They only have about 15 members and the majority of them have been Christians for only a few years. It is so interesting to start to understand their culture more, to hear them sing the same songs we sing but with a twang in their music that we could not duplicate if we tried. We invited a group of them to our house and had fellowship time with them, that was cool. Sure nice to have a place where we could have someone as our guests, for once to not be the guests.
I love finding more out about the Iranian culture, they are not all Muslim’s, they are nothing like the pre-conceived ideas that America has placed upon them. They are a people, many of whom are in love with God. They are persecuted for their faith daily by their neighbors, family and nation, yet they choose still to worship God whole heartedly. I think we have a lot to learn from their example. And I hope I do.
My conception of “refugee” has always been of poor people displaced in a foreign country for reasons unknown to them. But I have been very wrong in this idea. A refugee is just someone living in a country outside of the one in which they belong - so I guess I am a refugee. We hooked up with a small Persian church (Iranian) and are trying to get in good relationship with them. They only have about 15 members and the majority of them have been Christians for only a few years. It is so interesting to start to understand their culture more, to hear them sing the same songs we sing but with a twang in their music that we could not duplicate if we tried. We invited a group of them to our house and had fellowship time with them, that was cool. Sure nice to have a place where we could have someone as our guests, for once to not be the guests.
I love finding more out about the Iranian culture, they are not all Muslim’s, they are nothing like the pre-conceived ideas that America has placed upon them. They are a people, many of whom are in love with God. They are persecuted for their faith daily by their neighbors, family and nation, yet they choose still to worship God whole heartedly. I think we have a lot to learn from their example. And I hope I do.
Orphanage
A very exciting day for me was Wednesday. We went to Mother Teresa’s home here in Yerevan. She has “homes” all over the world, orphanages that she started or were started in here name. One of the sisters there actually spent years working in direct contact with Mother Teresa, she shared with us for a few minutes about her, what a wonderful testimony she was, how even as nun she wanted to follow what Jesus had for her life. It was mostly an orphanage for young children with disabilities. It was just fun, I really light up when around that group of people anyways. Young kids, some in wheel chairs, all with arms outstretched wanting to be hugged and played with and loved. The nuns speak English to the kids so most of them understand and speak English as well.
One little boy in particular reminded me so much of Solomon (my nephew whom I miss dearly). This little boy was 6 but small in stature and could not walk because of braces constraining his legs. He was the one we found to speak English. The drum was his favorite thing we brought and he didn’t want to let go if it, but would shout out names of his favorite songs for Jarrod to play on the guitar. “Sing the if you are happy and you know it song!” “Sing the jumping song!” sing the happy and you know it song!”… His smile, his desire for Jesus and his love for music - that was what reminded me of Solomon.
What we liked most about the orphanage, or the thing that stuck with us all, was the sisters. They were so happy. They had genuine love flowing from them, joy poured out of them. They had love for those kids that was real, they had the joy of the Lord oozing out from every part of them. We were inspired by their simple devotion, their patience, their smiles.
The orphanage was clean. It was more like a large house, only like 25 kids, most babies or kids under the age of about 7. It did not fit my impression of orphanages, it was like a home, full of love and warmth. It made me think “this is something I could do.” I did not have to search for love to give to those kids, it was there. I desired to not leave after our 2 hours. I wanted to stay. I wanted to hold the sick babies and pray over them all night long. I wanted to talk to the older kids and instill Jesus in their life. I wanted to stay. Maybe someday God will direct me back to an orphanage where I will be able to serve and give of myself, I look forward to that day.
One little boy in particular reminded me so much of Solomon (my nephew whom I miss dearly). This little boy was 6 but small in stature and could not walk because of braces constraining his legs. He was the one we found to speak English. The drum was his favorite thing we brought and he didn’t want to let go if it, but would shout out names of his favorite songs for Jarrod to play on the guitar. “Sing the if you are happy and you know it song!” “Sing the jumping song!” sing the happy and you know it song!”… His smile, his desire for Jesus and his love for music - that was what reminded me of Solomon.
What we liked most about the orphanage, or the thing that stuck with us all, was the sisters. They were so happy. They had genuine love flowing from them, joy poured out of them. They had love for those kids that was real, they had the joy of the Lord oozing out from every part of them. We were inspired by their simple devotion, their patience, their smiles.
The orphanage was clean. It was more like a large house, only like 25 kids, most babies or kids under the age of about 7. It did not fit my impression of orphanages, it was like a home, full of love and warmth. It made me think “this is something I could do.” I did not have to search for love to give to those kids, it was there. I desired to not leave after our 2 hours. I wanted to stay. I wanted to hold the sick babies and pray over them all night long. I wanted to talk to the older kids and instill Jesus in their life. I wanted to stay. Maybe someday God will direct me back to an orphanage where I will be able to serve and give of myself, I look forward to that day.
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