Tag: Africa

  • Water Walk: Taking the Next Steps toward Spilling Hope

    06.09.11 | Comment?

    by Kristina Ponischil

    photos by Matt Gebhart (www.mattgebhart.com)

    How far did you walk to get a drink of water today? For many of us here in Seattle, sources of clean drinking water are so plentiful that we would never even think to ask ourselves this question. Yet when roughly 1 in 8 people throughout the world do not have access to safe, clean drinking water, it truly is a question worth asking. This is exactly what a group from Bethany Community Church did at last Sunday’s Spilling Hope water walk. Together, we carried bright blue jerry cans down to Green Lake, filled them with lake water, and carried them around the lake in order to symbolically walk in the footsteps of those without easy access to clean water. Yet this experience went far beyond mere symbolism. We entered into a story; envisioning ourselves as young children around the age of 6 whose job was to gather water to bring back home to our family.

    Our walk was relatively short, half a mile each way, compared to the average 2 ½ miles many children in Rwanda and Uganda have to endure multiple times a day in order to reach water. What’s worse is that these children are going to such great lengths to bring back unclean, disease-infested water, which often leads to illness and missed school days. I was shocked to hear that fully filled jerry cans can weigh up to 50 pounds, as I began to quickly fatigue after carrying my half-filled jerry can for a few minutes. We were lucky enough to pass along our jerry can to the next water-walker once the weight became too much to bear, and the inevitable question “Should we empty it out a little?” eventually crept into conversation. Out of all the questions we were encouraged to reflect on — What can I do to conserve water? What do I do already? Do I leave the faucet on when I brush my teeth? – it was this question “Should we empty it out a little” that struck my heart. With tired feet and sore arms I thought to myself, this is their lives. When the average household in Uganda spends 660 hours per year collecting water, they don’t have the option of emptying out a little water to make the burden lighter. That burden permeates their lives.

    Taking part in the water walk was incredibly convicting for me as I realized how much I actually take for granted each day. While my daily dilemmas might consist of debating between local coffee shops then deciding between drip coffee or a latte, there are children in Rwanda and Uganda living in constant fear, wondering if the water that they have worked so hard to collect is going to make them sick, or worse. The good news is that there is hope. Spilling Hope is changing lives and through simplifying the ways in which we live, learning about issues surrounding water and poverty, and giving generously, we can help spread this hope to those who need it.

  • Lord, Have Mercy

    06.04.11 | Comment?

    by Mica Wegener

    Growing up in the Lutheran church, each Sunday our prayers were uttered in unison. After each prayer, the congregation paused and, with a certain confidence that comes with familiarity, recited, “Lord, in your mercy, hear out prayer.”

    For many years I thought these prayers were empty. I felt it was a cop-out of sorts –- if you were really talking to God, then why would you need the words printed in a bulletin? And if this whole Jesus thing was relational and personal, then why on earth would we say the exact same line over and over as if we had nothing better to say? In His great mercy, God has since changed my understanding.

    You see, I find it is far easier now to talk to God in my car, to write a prayer in my journal, or to quietly speak with him during church in the safe walls of my mind. But in this public confession, in this communal declaration that the liturgy provides, I cannot escape –- we cannot escape –- the fact that we, too, need His great mercy, and not just those for whom we are praying.

    You may be wondering about now, what does this have to do with Spilling Hope? And I would tell you, the answer is everything. Long before the campaign began this spring, as our community group met to carefully plan the events, I was under the impression that I would be the one giving; I would be the one spilling hope. I was quite wrong. Yes, that is a piece of it, but I needed God’s mercy to re-direct my prayers, to reveal to me greater depths of what he does through things like this campaign.

    After Film Night came to a close, I stood in a circle conversing with some of the panelists, when one said something that struck me. He said “We seem to be under the impression that people need Jesus, and that’s the main point. Most of these people don’t need Jesus –- they already have Jesus. It’s not that they’re all poor and need Jesus. It’s that they’re poor, they have Jesus, and they need water. And water –- money -– is something we have and can give.” And then, it all became painfully clear. I had missed the point. All this time I had been praying for reconciliation in Africa, when I too need to be reconciled: to my brothers and sisters in Seattle, to those across the oceans, and most importantly: to God. He calls us to learn about His Kingdom, and in doing so, to live in it. This task is far from easy. Giving generously and living aware of others is one piece of it. In learning about the need for water in Africa, I have learned about my own need for living water in Christ. In learning how they spend their precious time, I, in turn, learn how foolishly I use my own. And in learning how much they need, I have begun to see how much more I could give. In understanding their need, I have heard my call. I need them just as much as they need me. You see, in seeking to bring reconciliation, I have found that I need to be reconciled myself: reconciled to the call which I have so often not answered. And in seeking to serve communities I thought were in need of Christ, I have found my own desperate need for Him. In spilling hope, hope I did not know I needed has been spilled into my life. Would you pray with me?

    Lord, two in every fifty people that hear about need in the world actually respond. May we be a people who not only respond with our words, but also in our actions.

    Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.

    Father, we thank you for the resources you’ve so greatly blessed us with. The average person in our nation uses 100 gallons of water a day, compared to the 5 gallons most people in Africa and developing countries have to use. Lord, teach us to preserve what you’ve given us, and to respond in gratitude.

    Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.

    Jesus, as we learn, grant us eyes to see our own need. As we give, keep our hands open. And when we fall short in our efforts, send your grace to remind us that we, too, are being reconciled and reformed. Spill upon us your hope, as we dance in the rain of your love with our brothers and sisters around the world.

    Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.

  • “If Only They Knew”

    05.30.11 | Comment?

    by Malia Drennan

    It was a year ago this month that I found myself on a plane en route to Africa. My time there drastically challenged my concept of wealth and truly transformed my way of thinking. I began to ask myself far too many questions and was never fully satisfied with any of my answers. But one of the reoccurring thoughts that kept floating around in my head was this idea of the relativity of wealth. I mean what does it really mean to be wealthy? And does this definition vary across countries and continents? And is the concept of wealth simply relative depending on your personal perspective, or what?

    In Africa I was hyper aware of all of our stuff. We had packed all sorts of things into our suitcases — two cameras, one computer, one iPod touch, two iPods, tons of clothing options, multiple pairs of shoes. And that doesn’t even include all the things that wouldn’t fit into our suitcases, all the things that were waiting for us back home, such as a car, a few more cameras, another computer, a TV, couches, a comfy bed, pots and pans, snow skies, fishing poles, more clothes, and even more shoes.

    Even though we didn’t carry all of these things around with us and most of our tangible wealth was hidden behind closed doors, we quickly learned that our country of origin and the light color of our skin were simply enough to denote wealth. At first these assumptions of wealth angered me and left me frustrated. I even found myself thinking, “If they only knew how simply we lived in comparison to other Americans, then maybe they wouldn’t assume such things” (makes me laugh now thinking about my ignorant thoughts).

    But the reality is their assumptions were true. We are wealthy! We may not make a whole lot of money, but we do have a lot of stuff! And if we were just basing our wealth on the accumulation of all of our things, we would be considered wealthy.

    It is so easy to lose sight of our wealth when we are just comparing ourselves to other Americans. So stop for a minute and compare yourself, your wealth, and all of your stuff to someone living in a different country, a developing one perhaps? And think about all the stuff you have and all the stuff they may not have. It is easy to lose sight of ALL the things we have when they simply fill the open space in our apartment or our house, but ALL of these things are made real when you move from one place to another –- when you are forced to pack up ALL of your stuff. How long would it take you to move? How many boxes would you have? How many moving trucks would you need? And how important are all of these items in the first place?

    So I leave you with one final question — or questions I should say, because I can’t ask JUST one — What is it you spend your money on? What could you go without? And ultimately, how could you live more simply?

    Lira, Uganda

    Lilongwe, Malawi