When Resty, the coordinator of ECM’s Gayaza Sponsorship Project in Uganda visited her sister recently, she told me she had my training on child trafficking fresh on her mind. So when she learned that a village woman had just rescued a three year old child who was discarded in a sack, she was immediately interested. As she learned to do in her training, she began to ask more questions, to look deeper.
When she learned what had happened to the little girl, she knew she had to get involved. The baby had suffered horrific ritual abuse in a traditional shrine, including having her undeveloped canine teeth cut out of her jaw, undoubtedly for ritual purposes. Her head hung to one side and her neck looked rotten, signs that she had probably been tied up around the neck. Then she had nearly suffocated when stuffed alive into a bag and discarded. She was found nearly drowning in her own feces, and seemingly near death.
In God’s mercy, a kindly lady found the little girl and did everything possible to rescue her, cleaning her up and seeking medical treatment at a hospital in spite of that fact that the child seemed not to see, hear or make any sound, and that all her joints had stiffened, including her backbone. The foster mother named the child Hope Tereza, and cared for her valiantly in spite of the fact that she had two other children to care for, one of them also unable to speak, and that her tumbledown hut leaked badly.
As the police began to search for the parents, two men showed up threatening the foster mother. It turned out that these men had kidnapped the child eighteen months previously and had used her as a sacrifice for rituals in a traditional shrine. The police then were able to locate the parents, who had nearly exhausted all their resources, even selling their land in their search for their missing child. The police have advised the family to leave the child in foster care for the time being while the parents settle some family issues. The girl’s original name was Resty, the same as the ECM worker who has been helping her.
ECM is now helping the valiant family who rescued the child as well as to the child Resty herself. We’ll call her Resty Hope to combine the two names. We have given assistance from our Rescue Fund, but we now need additional help. If we pull together, we believe that this family should be the beginning of a new sponsorship program in the Masaka District. We are seeking sponsors not only for Resty Hope, but for the two other children of the foster family. We also need special funds to help meet Resty Hope’s special needs and to get the new Masaka program started. In addition, our staff are working with all stakeholders to develop informative skits for public use that will show parents how they can protect their children against the growing problem of child sacrifice in Uganda. Gifts will also be accepted for this program.
Resty Hope’s joints are becoming less stiff with therapeutic massage, she seems to be seeing and hearing, and she is now able to smile. It is believed that a cerebral palsy chair would help her.
I remember being impressed recently as I watched a video recently of Gianna, a young woman who suffers cerebral palsy induced by the late term saline abortion by which her mother sought to end her life. She was born alive but damaged by the saline, and has become a mighty advocate of life. (You can watch her at www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPFhCNOuQ. If you have difficulty, just go to youtube and type abortion survivor in the search box.)
Like Gianna, Resty Hope, may never again be normal (although we acknowledge God’s ability to heal). But even if she is never normal, God must have very special plans for her life. Who else could have sent a woman who had such a heart to help her, just when she was at the point of death?
Let’s all join together in praying for Resty Hope! Those who wish to help can designate their gifts for one of these projects when giving to Every Child Ministries at www.ecmafrica.org.
Showing posts with label Every Child Ministries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Every Child Ministries. Show all posts
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Sunday, October 18, 2009
African Albino children need love, acceptance
Following the nationwide television special on the tragedies being faced by albino children in Tanzania, our organization, Every Child Ministries, has received many inquiries about our work with albino children in Africa. Praise God, we have also gained child sponsorships to enable several albino children to go to school!
As I think about the experience of Every Child Ministries in serving albino children, I realize that the first things albino children need are love and acceptance. They need to know that although they may look different than other children around them, they are valuable human beings like everyone else. It is easier for them to understand that God loves them when they know that others love them, too. Our gifts of sunglasses and sunscreen to protec their sensitive eyes and skin are just tokens to show them our love and acceptance by offering them something truly helpful to them.
The first two steps of our program for albino children are well underway. We have developed teaching for the children, their parents, their friends, and their schools, and begun distributing it by email. We've begun making contacts with albino children and their families and distributing the sunglasses and sunscreen. Our next step will be to place some media pieces to help move the public perception of albino children in a more positive direction. We realize that people's perceptions change slowly, so please pray for this effort!
As I think about the experience of Every Child Ministries in serving albino children, I realize that the first things albino children need are love and acceptance. They need to know that although they may look different than other children around them, they are valuable human beings like everyone else. It is easier for them to understand that God loves them when they know that others love them, too. Our gifts of sunglasses and sunscreen to protec their sensitive eyes and skin are just tokens to show them our love and acceptance by offering them something truly helpful to them.
The first two steps of our program for albino children are well underway. We have developed teaching for the children, their parents, their friends, and their schools, and begun distributing it by email. We've begun making contacts with albino children and their families and distributing the sunglasses and sunscreen. Our next step will be to place some media pieces to help move the public perception of albino children in a more positive direction. We realize that people's perceptions change slowly, so please pray for this effort!
The most outstanding thing about her trip was...
Last night we enjoyed a wonderful time with friends and partners at our annual IN Banquet in Crown Point, IN. I was especially struck with the reports of Katie Suitor, last summer's mission team leader to Uganda. She said that the thing that struck her most about her time in Uganda was ECM's sponsorship program. She said she noticed the HUGE difference between children who were sponsored in our program and those who were not. She could even tell from looking at pictures, even if she didn't know who the kids were. The sponsored kids looked healthier, were happier, cleaner, better dressed, and somehow more hopeful. The sponsorship program is labor-intensive for Every Child Ministries, so I was really encouraged to hear what a difference it is making in kids' lives. Thanks for that encouragement, Katie.
We gained five new sponsors during the evening, and we are very thankful for that. Many more are waiting to be sponsored.
By the way, I want to send a heartfelt thank you once again to everyone who worked so hard to make last evening a success. We only came halfway to our offering goal for Uganda, but that is a good start and we are thankful for the progress made. Many, many volunteers worked hard to provide this big event. We really appreciate all of you.
We gained five new sponsors during the evening, and we are very thankful for that. Many more are waiting to be sponsored.
By the way, I want to send a heartfelt thank you once again to everyone who worked so hard to make last evening a success. We only came halfway to our offering goal for Uganda, but that is a good start and we are thankful for the progress made. Many, many volunteers worked hard to provide this big event. We really appreciate all of you.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Amazing Calls
I'm amazed as I look back on how God called me. It began first with reading a series of books when I was a teenager--books about five missionaries who were speared to death in the jungles of South America. Strange that reading about someone being brutally killed should result in my heart volunteering or being drawn toward the career that brought about their death.
There were five books in the series as I remember. My Sunday school teacher passed them around as others finished reading them. From the first book I felt strangely drawn. Not toward death, but toward missionary service. I quietly counted the cost even if it meant by life, my heart said yes, and peace filled my soul.
Six, seven years later. Poor choices made. Times of questioning God and even of shaking my fist at Him. I was married to a wonderful man, but one who had not come to trust my Jesus for salvation. It was five long, difficult years before that happened.
Even after John came to Christ and, three weeks later, announced that he wanted to start attending church with me, my missionary call seemed lost. I felt that I had "blown it," sinned too much. I knew that God had forgiven my wandering, but I felt I had missed my opportunity to be a missionary. I settled into doing what I could at home--teaching Sunday school, Vacation Bible School, Bible clubs, Christian ed. committee, and much more at my church. I read missionary biographies to my children by the dozen. I prayed God would call others in my place.
But the missionary call only grew louder and more insistent. It grew so strong I could hardly stand it.
I never talked about it with my husand. Not once. He was happy farming. He loved his farm. It was his dream come true, and he never wanted to do anything else. He talked farming by day and yelled at his cows in his sleep at night.
The missonary call for me became so strong that I needed to share it. I began praying with a couple who came to minister at the high school where I taught. I prayed that God would take the burden of this calling away from me, or that He would give it to John. I was sure He would take it from me.
On Palm Sunday 1979, we were driving from our farm in Fremont, IN to Jackson, MI where our kids had been staying for a brief visit with my parents. I was chatting about many things, but John was not responding. "What's the matter?" I asked.
He began crying, sobbing. I had never seen him shed a tear before.
"I just think God is calling us to be missionaries!" He choked out the words. "I think he is calling us to go to Africa as missionaries." He said that morning as he was milking his cows, "minding his own business," it was just as if God was standing right beside him, telling him that he wanted to go to Africa as a missionary. He said that he could think of ten perfectly good reasons why he didn't need to do that, but that God would not let him off the hook.
I wanted to jump through the roof and shout "Hallelujah!" but I was too dumbfounded.
I tried not to act too eager, but after a few minutes I shared with him how I had been feeling the same calling and had been praying about it for two years.
It's now 29 years later. We spent some time getting ready, and we've served in Africa for 27 years--23 of them with Every Child Ministries, the mission we now serve.
Many times when I think of the mountains of difficulties we've faced, I've questioned God's call. Sometimes I've even asked myself if I might be crazy to even attempt the things we've set our sights on. Sometimes that call seems distant and unreal. But in those times I have only to remember that my John Rouster gave up his beloved farm to become a missionary, and there was no doubt whatsoever that God called him and not me. When I remember that, it all becomes real again. It's God's private sign to me that I did hear His call. WE did. Thank You, Lord, for the reality of that call.
Actually, John went to Zaire (now called DRC or Democratic Republic of Congo) with the idea of helping teach agriculture. I went with the idea of teaching English. We understood that those skills were needed in Zaire. John was an agriculturalist and I was a high school English teacher.
When we went, we didn't yet know that our calling was for African children. We only wanted to help out wherever we could.
We did a lot of thing that first term. By the end of it, it was clear that God was calling us to work with children. That idea was a seed that has quietly but steadily grown in our hearts.
A couple years ago I was reading a book that challenged me to think through and write down my life purpose, and to ask God to impress on my mind a Bible verse to claim as my life's purpose. I thought through my many roles--missionary, executive, teacher, trainer, writer. All were true, but none fully captured God's calling on my life. Then I thought of "Mama." People in Africa have called me "Mama Lorella" for a long time. That was it. I thought of Judges 5:7, in which Deborah describes the terrible condition of Israel in her day, "until I arose," she says, "Arose a mother in Israel." She too had many callings--wife, prophetess, judge, warrior. She didn't work alone. She went into battle with Barak. But she was aware of her life having made a difference. When she thought of it, she didn't say "I arose a judge" or "I arose a warrior." She said "I arose a mother in Israel."
I became conscious of having been called as a mother to millions of African children. I haven't labored alone. I've had lots of help. I hope my life has made a positive difference. Conditions for African children were very bad. They needed someone who would take their burdens on her heart. God didn't call me as an executive, although that's one of my roles right now. He didn't call me as a writer, although I do a lot of it. He called me first and foremost in the role I know best and love most. He called me as a mother. A mother to my own precious children and grandchildren first, of course--Carrie, Sharon, John Henry, Kristi--Marissa, Caleb, Serena, Alaina, Elizabeth, Tessa, Jordan, Hannah, John Everett, Whitney and Jenna. He called me as a mother to African children too. Not only Kristi and Whitney that we adopted into our family, but to millions of African children. He laid a continent's children on my conscience, and He stretched my heart to be able to hug them all.
It might sound presumptuous to talk in such big terms. Mother to African children. How could God ask such a thing? But I am delighted that I am not alone in this calling and our family is not alone in this calling. I have come to know others who have a similar burden. Some I have known are Phyllis Kilbourne of WEC International's Rainbows of Hope and Heidi Baker of Iris Ministries in Mozambique. There are many of us, I know. Africa needs many mothers.
So what do I give Africa? I've given her years of service, of course. Sweat, yes, lots of sweat. Tear, yes, lots of tears. Work, yes countless hours of labor. Prayers. Well, I don't claim to be the greatest prayer warrior in the world, but yes, I've given lots of prayers. Money, lots. The years of my life. But mostly I have given her my heart. I have loved her children. You see, God called me to be a mother to Africa.
Next time: The terrifying vision God gave me
There were five books in the series as I remember. My Sunday school teacher passed them around as others finished reading them. From the first book I felt strangely drawn. Not toward death, but toward missionary service. I quietly counted the cost even if it meant by life, my heart said yes, and peace filled my soul.
Six, seven years later. Poor choices made. Times of questioning God and even of shaking my fist at Him. I was married to a wonderful man, but one who had not come to trust my Jesus for salvation. It was five long, difficult years before that happened.
Even after John came to Christ and, three weeks later, announced that he wanted to start attending church with me, my missionary call seemed lost. I felt that I had "blown it," sinned too much. I knew that God had forgiven my wandering, but I felt I had missed my opportunity to be a missionary. I settled into doing what I could at home--teaching Sunday school, Vacation Bible School, Bible clubs, Christian ed. committee, and much more at my church. I read missionary biographies to my children by the dozen. I prayed God would call others in my place.
But the missionary call only grew louder and more insistent. It grew so strong I could hardly stand it.
I never talked about it with my husand. Not once. He was happy farming. He loved his farm. It was his dream come true, and he never wanted to do anything else. He talked farming by day and yelled at his cows in his sleep at night.
The missonary call for me became so strong that I needed to share it. I began praying with a couple who came to minister at the high school where I taught. I prayed that God would take the burden of this calling away from me, or that He would give it to John. I was sure He would take it from me.
On Palm Sunday 1979, we were driving from our farm in Fremont, IN to Jackson, MI where our kids had been staying for a brief visit with my parents. I was chatting about many things, but John was not responding. "What's the matter?" I asked.
He began crying, sobbing. I had never seen him shed a tear before.
"I just think God is calling us to be missionaries!" He choked out the words. "I think he is calling us to go to Africa as missionaries." He said that morning as he was milking his cows, "minding his own business," it was just as if God was standing right beside him, telling him that he wanted to go to Africa as a missionary. He said that he could think of ten perfectly good reasons why he didn't need to do that, but that God would not let him off the hook.
I wanted to jump through the roof and shout "Hallelujah!" but I was too dumbfounded.
I tried not to act too eager, but after a few minutes I shared with him how I had been feeling the same calling and had been praying about it for two years.
It's now 29 years later. We spent some time getting ready, and we've served in Africa for 27 years--23 of them with Every Child Ministries, the mission we now serve.
Many times when I think of the mountains of difficulties we've faced, I've questioned God's call. Sometimes I've even asked myself if I might be crazy to even attempt the things we've set our sights on. Sometimes that call seems distant and unreal. But in those times I have only to remember that my John Rouster gave up his beloved farm to become a missionary, and there was no doubt whatsoever that God called him and not me. When I remember that, it all becomes real again. It's God's private sign to me that I did hear His call. WE did. Thank You, Lord, for the reality of that call.
Actually, John went to Zaire (now called DRC or Democratic Republic of Congo) with the idea of helping teach agriculture. I went with the idea of teaching English. We understood that those skills were needed in Zaire. John was an agriculturalist and I was a high school English teacher.
When we went, we didn't yet know that our calling was for African children. We only wanted to help out wherever we could.
We did a lot of thing that first term. By the end of it, it was clear that God was calling us to work with children. That idea was a seed that has quietly but steadily grown in our hearts.
A couple years ago I was reading a book that challenged me to think through and write down my life purpose, and to ask God to impress on my mind a Bible verse to claim as my life's purpose. I thought through my many roles--missionary, executive, teacher, trainer, writer. All were true, but none fully captured God's calling on my life. Then I thought of "Mama." People in Africa have called me "Mama Lorella" for a long time. That was it. I thought of Judges 5:7, in which Deborah describes the terrible condition of Israel in her day, "until I arose," she says, "Arose a mother in Israel." She too had many callings--wife, prophetess, judge, warrior. She didn't work alone. She went into battle with Barak. But she was aware of her life having made a difference. When she thought of it, she didn't say "I arose a judge" or "I arose a warrior." She said "I arose a mother in Israel."
I became conscious of having been called as a mother to millions of African children. I haven't labored alone. I've had lots of help. I hope my life has made a positive difference. Conditions for African children were very bad. They needed someone who would take their burdens on her heart. God didn't call me as an executive, although that's one of my roles right now. He didn't call me as a writer, although I do a lot of it. He called me first and foremost in the role I know best and love most. He called me as a mother. A mother to my own precious children and grandchildren first, of course--Carrie, Sharon, John Henry, Kristi--Marissa, Caleb, Serena, Alaina, Elizabeth, Tessa, Jordan, Hannah, John Everett, Whitney and Jenna. He called me as a mother to African children too. Not only Kristi and Whitney that we adopted into our family, but to millions of African children. He laid a continent's children on my conscience, and He stretched my heart to be able to hug them all.
It might sound presumptuous to talk in such big terms. Mother to African children. How could God ask such a thing? But I am delighted that I am not alone in this calling and our family is not alone in this calling. I have come to know others who have a similar burden. Some I have known are Phyllis Kilbourne of WEC International's Rainbows of Hope and Heidi Baker of Iris Ministries in Mozambique. There are many of us, I know. Africa needs many mothers.
So what do I give Africa? I've given her years of service, of course. Sweat, yes, lots of sweat. Tear, yes, lots of tears. Work, yes countless hours of labor. Prayers. Well, I don't claim to be the greatest prayer warrior in the world, but yes, I've given lots of prayers. Money, lots. The years of my life. But mostly I have given her my heart. I have loved her children. You see, God called me to be a mother to Africa.
Next time: The terrifying vision God gave me
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