Thursday, November 8, 2012

Privileged to call her Friend



Employee ~ Mother~ Grandmother~ Wife~ Student~ Co-Worker~ Friend~ Mother-in –Law~ Aunt ~ Sister
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Capable~ Dependable~ Trustworthy~ Honest~ Friendly~ Giving~ Integrity~ Dedicated~ Self-sacrificing
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
The greatest of these is FRIEND
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
The soft cry of a second born baby is heard in Brooklyn, Maine, not far from E.B.White’s house. Sheryl Tripp enters a turbulent private world. Amid sweet blueberry, and salty air on Frye’s Point, her mother began a relatively large family. A difficult marriage choice turned to a life of violent poverty. The children slept together, 6 in one bed. The government provided staple food and the blueberries were free, the fields and the ocean their playground. The simple love of an aunt a port in the storm.
She learned to hate “hunting for things”; as an elder she was expected to hunt for the sister’s shoes, brother’s socks, the other mitten. She learned to appreciate a warm cup of tea, a crisp new outfit, a word of sincere praise. Each time she saw her Mom’s belly swell she knew that soon there would be yet another mouth to feed.
One time, the baby did not come home with Mom.  This missing brother lodged himself in her heart and years later she began “hunting for” her brother, the lost family member. A sweet reunion when the adopted baby was found a happy, healthy, successful adult having been raised as an only child by a loving couple.
At 13, Sheryl met the man who would be her husband. Several years her senior, he captured her heart. They married amid the doubts that a teenage marriage could last.  Yet, defying the odds they have celebrated many anniversaries and look forward to many more. Three children came quickly. Poverty and alcohol threatened to destroy the marriage and fulfill the prophecy when a serendipitous tragedy saved their marriage. A car accident – paralysis – life in a wheel chair for her husband.
Sheryl’s dedication and love for those close to her kept her by his side through all the pain, anger and hopelessness. Her love sustained and fed a troubled man and helped mold him into the loving and dedicated husband and father that he is.  His chair didn’t slow him down only adapted his lifestyle in very creative ways.  His fierce independence and love for his family kept him finding ways to perform tasks; mowing and raking the lawn, hunting, doing the laundry and dishes. Sheryl became the breadwinner.
Returning to high school as an adult she earned credits to obtain her high school diploma and then began college level classes. Employment began to crowd in and she chose to leave the college classes for employment.  Working several jobs at the same time she learned and became proficient and confident. Today she is the Shop Manager, Bookkeeper, and anchor for Expanding Opportunities. Her dedication and hard work keep the organization and the Artisan Support project strong.  The organization is blessed to have her.
As an adult, long after her children had grown, Sheryl decided to use one of her days off to take a painting class. Out from her soul poured beauty as a talent lying still in the fertile soil, waiting, began to bloom in to her first piece: “Outwaiting the Fog”. Since then she has produced many works that have shown and sold in galleries locally in Maine.
With all her s

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Act on What I Know


You called me here
You love and care for me
You have taken care of all my needs
PSALM 3 “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and He shall direct thy paths.”

I feel defeated, lost, forsaken and alone. As desolate as this compound, dry dusty, clinging to what little life there is in anticipation of the rain.

So I know and You will bring the rain in this organization. Each year I think to quit.  My heart becomes harder, my soul drier. The dust dirt clogs my spiritual pores – distances me from the people, the earth, the work.

How do I act on what I know when I do not see? 

To sit and wait…TRUST.

Monday, July 9, 2012

Take a Seat


Take a Seat

The dreaded words of Kenya
            TAKE A SEAT
Five minutes Five hours – all the same
            TAKE A SEAT
No action appears to be happening
            TAKE A SEAT
Lunch has come and gone
            TAKE A SEAT
Alone on the bench
            TAKE A SEAT
Crowded like sardines in a can
            TAKE A SEAT
I grow old and cobwebs gather
            TAKE A SEAT

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Significantly Yours

Significantly Yours

Surrounded by those who don’t know you
Silenced by the hardened hearts – avoiding hearts
Do I still speak for you?
Am I too buried in the mud to be significantly different? –
Significantly  yours?
Or
Are you using me?

Sunday, June 10, 2012

End Cut

First cut is the deepest
End cut is the most painful
Tearing out the heart and soul
Turning self and good desired inside out
The embodiment of all the failures
The truth of all the trials
The road rough and choices hard
Unknowingly lead to the dead end
of emptiness and betrayal
The choices for good made for you by me
lie shattered and broken
The end cut is the most painful

November 2011

     Tonight as I sit in my tent listening to the soft patter of rainfall on the tent roof, Millicent and many like her lie curled up on a cement floor, dying with no blanket, no pillow, - alone and rejected. Millicent's husband died of AIDS related infections. Se traveled to her husband's home with her two small children, ages 6 and 3, only to be rejected. She came to Nakuru to the slums to eke out some sort of living for her children before the virus took her away from them forever.
     The slums are not an easy place for an HIV positive person.  It was not long before opportunistic infections raged.  In stepped Bernard who had dedicated his life to HIV/AIDS victims, building support groups, helping in any way he can. He found Millicent on her mattress unable to function.  The 6 year old boy was out begging and stealing food for himself, his Mom and younger sister.  The small children attempt to care for their Mom's needs.
     Bernard feared for the Mom and children. Thieves of any age are beaten and stoned. Young girls of any age are raped and abandoned. Millicent is in obvious need of medical care. He locates a widow, already with 4 children in her one room home, convinces her to accept the other two children. I hear the story and am moved to help these children with some food from the feeding program funds.
Millicent is taken to the hospital where they begin tests.
     Fast forward a week or two.
     The hospital determines that Millicent has no money and will probably not recover, so they discharge her and use her much needed bed for a patient with a better prognosis. Millicent has no where to go. Though discharged, she is  not allowed to leave the hospital grounds until her bill is paid.  She cannot pay her bill. Her house was reclaimed by the landlord. She is desperately ill, has no food, no bed, no blanket. She moves herself to the grass courtyard of the hospital during the day to sit in the sunshine and be warmed. Then at night she slips into the ward to sleep curled up in a corner on the floor waiting to die, when her body will be taken to the public mortuary to be buried with other paupers.
     Millicent is one of the lucky ones as she has Bernard to bring her milk to drink. 
     I fought being drawn into the family. I longed to remain at arms distance so I would not have to see, would not have to feel. But here I am trying to bring you in with me.  Trying to help you see and feel this reality of life in Kenya. This reality of poverty and disease.
    My heart hurts and rages. Can there be nowhere a poor person can find dignity in death?  Where a person can feel love and concern and value and peace as they leave the earth?  A bed, a blanket, a sip of milk to cool the ulcerated mouth and coat an empty stomach?
     It is easy for me to say "This is not my mission. This is not my calling." But whose calling is it?  I have not seriously run the numbers, but surely for less than $200 USD per month a simple room could be rented, furnished and staffed for one suffering human; for less than $1,000 USD per month a house could be rented, furnished, stocked and staffed to care for a half dozen rejected human beings where they could find a few moments of love and peace before facing their eternity.
     I am reminded of a man named Lazarus. Lazarus was a beggar in life. He came to a rich man's gate full of sores and desiring to be fed the crumbs from the rich man's table. But was refused. The beggar died and was carried by the angels to heaven. The rich man also died and in hell he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham with Lazarus.  He cried, "Abraham have mercy on me and send Lazarus to dip his finger in water and cool my tongue."
     Abraham said "Remember in life you received fine things and Lazarus evil things. Now he is comforted and you are tormented. But besides this, there is a great chasm so no one may pass...."
     There are many needs in this world, real and perceived.  So many it is often overwhelming and we harden our hearts so not to feel the brokenness around us. But we are meant to be broken by the things that break the heart of God.
     I hope hat if you have read this far you will allow your heart to open, to see, to feel, to break, to see Lazarus begging for crumbs from the table, to see a mother and fatherless children hoping for life and love, to see Millicent curled up on the cold cement
     May this story first bring a deep sense of gratitude. "But for the grace of God go you or I."
Secondly, may this story stir you.  DO open your eyes and heart to see the pain around you. DO do give thanks.  DO pray to see your role in the lives of the lonely, desperate, despairing, hungry or dying in this world. DO DO something, the smallest act is never too little.

Act on What I Know

You have called me here
You love and care for me
You have taken care of all my needs
"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and He shall direct they paths"
I feel defeated, lost, forsaken and alone. As desolate as this compound - dry, dusty, clinging to what little life there is in anticipation of the rain.
So I know -
You will bring the rain in this organization.
Each year I think to quit.
My heart becomes harder, my soul drier.
The dust, the dirt, clogs my spiritual pores - distances me from the people, the earth, the work.
How do I act on what I know when I do not see?
To sit and wait........

The Great White Wall


Have you felt it here?
Insincere
It is a lonely place hemmed in by expectation
The Mzungu
How are you?  Give me....
Stay on your side
We can't be friends - you are Mzungu
Friendship is a game until I get what I want

Thank you
Thank you for waking me up again
I needed it.