It’s easy to forget. I don’t know about you, but for me, in the midst of all the blessings that God - in his crazy, mysterious will - has decided to shower upon my life it is easy to believe the lie that the world is just mildly messed up. It’s easy to think that things are just slightly off-kilter - you know, that the reason Jesus had to die was for minor sins like lying about your homework and slight injustices like being charged for a Grande at Starbucks when you ordered a Tall…that kind of stuff. But the truth is that things are far more messed up than that. They really are.

Today I received an email from a friend that reminded me of this. Max and Gina live and work in Africa. Actually, they are employed by a school that offers a quality education to young men and women that have long since been orphaned by the African AIDS epidemic. In their work they are exposed to the kind of struggle and injustice that the vast majority of Christians are privileged to pretend do not exist. Below is an excerpt from their email. Please read.  It’s a long post - I apologize - but well worth it.

Today was one of those days that brought images I will remember for the rest of my life. Wednesdays are my days to drive for student verification. We were on our second visit of the day. As we were leaving there was a girl fighting with a man…he was pressing her to have sex and she was trying to run. I later found out that they were married awhile back and have one kid, she divorced him and he went to prison for various things, and had come back and paid her father some money so he could have her again. Anyways…they were fighting and it was getting aggressive. I told my friend that we should put her in the car and take her to town to get her away but instead we just stood there…watching…helpless….doing nothing. I didn’t understand why somebody didn’t do something but I just followed their lead.

There were a few kids around watching with us. He started grabbing at her and then ripped her clothes off. She fought back and he started beating her with a stick. He hit her again and again until she was down…then he hit her some more. You could see on his face that his intent was to kill but something in him got spooked and he ran. The kids chased after him with sticks but he got away. I ran over to the girl and she had a ½ inch hole in her head….blood pouring out. At that point there were tons of villages around….standing, watching, talking.

I yelled for someone to give me a Kanga to wrap around her head. It took awhile to find someone willing but we got it. The girl started going into convulsions…her breathing slowed…and she was just lying there in mere existence. Surrounded by a group of women and men discussing why and what just happened…I felt so helpless. They were going to just let her die and were speaking like she was already dead! Not here, not like this.

My whole spirit went into prayer-trusting, believing, hoping, asking. I kept urging to put her in the car and take her to the hospital but that brought up too many complications with village elders and the police…so we had to sit there a little longer to talk. Finally after 10 minutes passed, they agreed and I raced as fast as I could down the rocky, bumpy road. I busted the water pump on one of the rocks…but didn’t care today.

We stopped at the police for a report (you need it for the hospital)…only to find that this man had gone their first. When we pulled up-he sprinted across the road. I couldn’t figure out why no one went after him until later it was explained to me that he paid the police the equivalent of $5.00 to let him go. We got the report and all piled back in the car. During this process the girl had come to and started talking, murmuring, crying out in pain. I drove as fast as I could in a 1983 Pajero with everybody yelling, “nenda haraka!” (go faster!) We got to the hospital in time and I am pretty sure she made it. I pray anyways.

We live in a place where we are surrounded by poverty, pain, and injustice. It is not a rare sight to pass dead people on the side of the road killed or to see street fights. Naturally-I compartmentalize, push it aside, keep going. But today, I don’t want to do that. I don’t want this day to be just another day, another incident, another person. I pray that God will use it to change me…to increase my compassion, to help me know in a new way the lives so many people are fighting to live, and to be grateful for the life that I have.

We continued on with verification and were able to accept 2 more kids into school. One of the kids was a complete orphan living with his 70 year old grandparents that sell bananas to take care of him and the other was a boy living with his mom and little brother off of her earnings of less than 2 dollars a day. It was a hard day to swallow. But I am thankful for the reminder that our life here on earth really isn’t about us at all.

Here is what I ask of you: First, join me in praying for Max and Gina. Pray that God would sustain them in their difficult work, that he would protect them, and that he would continue to make them a beacon of justice and mercy in the midst of such incredible struggle.

Second, give thanks to our God and Father in Heaven that such pain has, in the end, not gone unnoticed or untreated. God the Father through Christ the Son has brought justice to the world. Jesus has died and taken the punishment for the sins that plague this planet and one day he will return to wipe them away for good. And in the meantime we bear His message, and we share this Hope - in Africa, in the ‘burbs, and beyond.

“…In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” - Jesus; John 16:33