make the widow's heart sing

I just came across one of the newsletters that I wrote not long after arriving in Georgia to be a student in DTS... it seems like SO long ago. Almost 4 years, seriously??!

But I feel encouraged and re-inspired by my experience at that time. I want to continue to have this kind of heart and desire, eh. So here you go, straight from the past... August 23, 2006 -->

Gamarjobat!

It's been 9 weeks and one day since I arrived in Georgia. There are things that haven't changed, like the weather (HOT) and the amazingly tasty puri (bread). But there is a lot that has changed. I feel like I've sort of grown-up a bit (unbelievable, I know) just from being in a foreign country. Like I can go to the market and buy meat (that is as long as I can't tell what kind of animal it came from) and I cook sometimes and clean, and do other semi-responsible things.

But I feel more that I'm growing-up emotionally.

Not saying that I've had any huge breakthroughs or anything like that, but I guess I'm just seeing all of these issues that have been like festering inside of me for a long time, and I'm beginning to address them. It's also just totally enlightening being here, because you see so much hurt and pain and need, and it's like your world suddenly opens up. I mean, I wasn't always ignorant of the hurting and lost people, but it's so much more real to me now that I'm here. Like when you see a woman sitting on the street with huge, open, oozing and totally infected sores on her legs begging for money. Or when you see a gypsy woman holding her baby and know that it's highly likely that that child will be raised not really knowing what truth is. Or when you see a 70 or 80 year old woman digging through the garbage and eating what she finds.

It's hard you know. It hurts to see it. Sometimes because you wish more than anything that you could do something more to help them, like really help them, but you know that you can't. And sometimes it hurts because you see your own life and problems and realize how small they are in comparison to these peoples'. It makes you grateful, but at the same time sort of ashamed. But in spite of it all, I would rather be here seeing all of this, than in my own comfortable and small world (although I tend to get caught up in it, even here).

... I was reading in Job last night and these verses just really struck my heart. I guess the description of this compassion and mercy is just really beautiful, and someday I would hope that I would be able to live out at least one of these actions.

Job 29:11-17, "Whoever heard me spoke well of me, and those who saw me commended me, because I rescued the poor who cried for help, and the fatherless who had none to assist him. The man who was dying blessed me; I made the widow's heart sing. I put on righteousness as my clothing; justice was my robe and my turban. I was eyes to the blind and feet to the lame. I was a father to the needy; I took up the case of the stranger. I broke the fangs of the wicked and snatched the victims from their teeth."