8.23.2012

Hope

I'm writing this from my phone...in bed...mind swirling with overwhelming thoughts and my heart is so heavy.

Have you ever thought to thank God that you know how to read? That you were born in a country where it was just a given that by age 5 you would know how to write your name? Yes...these are the things I'm thinking about. These are the things that are keeping me awake because my heart is so burdened with grief that it might explode.

The meeting was about an organization called Africa Hope. The founder shared that refugees and immigrants..mostly women and children come to America and are given 8 months of assistance and in that 8 months they are expected to learn English and find a job. Not so bad right...? I mean it's America! Land of the free...educated...capable. And here she is...the average immigrant, refugee...with a gift card for the grocery store and not only does she not know how to get there, she doesn't know what it is, where to put the food if she does manage to get it and guess what? She can't read and she can't even write her own name. But in 8 months...she's supposed to have a job and speak the language.  She is the provider...where do you think she'll end up? I'm sure there are plenty of men ready and willing to get her into the oldest profession in the world.

I'm sick. I love the ministry and I love the privilege I'm being given to help...but I have to ask...have you ever thanked God for the ability to write your own name?

Well you should.

The ministry is Africa Hope. The goal? Give these women the tools to learn english, and teach them how to find what they are good at so one day they can fill out an application, speak English in an interview, and get a job. They clothe them, bring Christmas, feed their babies, and help them find Hope.

My heart is bursting. I am so very grateful that for some crazy reason, I was born an American, learned how to write my name when I was 4 and now I'm able to teach a woman how to do it when she's 40. How did I get so lucky?

Thank you lord.




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