A Fountain of Tears

Once upon a time, there were two couples that were friends – Lin & Barry and Mark & Diane. They were such good friends, they said that they would take care of each other’s children should anything happen to either couple. Mark and Diane left for South Africa eight years after the AIDS epidemic was understood and diagnosed because Mark was a doctor, and he wanted to see if he could help. He became the foremost champion for helping AIDS victims and their families, and for raising awareness of AIDS throughout Africa.

Nobody calls it “America’s Invention to Destroy Sex” any longer.

Months before I got engaged, I heard Lin speak at a Women’s Day, which was held in Madison Square Garden in Manhattan, and it’s the only thing I remember about the entire day. She said that it’s one thing to share about what you’re going through when you’ve already gone through it – to share what you’ve learned, and how God has helped you through it. It’s quite another thing to share when you’re in the midst of the storm and you can’t see your way through.

Lin’s husband, Barry, had been diagnosed with brain cancer shortly after they were married, and he was given only a year to live. Through prayer and faith, he lasted fifteen more years, and in that time, they had three children together and started a ministry in the Caribbean. But on the day Lin shared, her husband was nearing the end. She described how she curled up on the floor of a public bathroom stall, weeping, and trying to get the courage to continue – to be there for her dying husband and three children. As I listened to her, I cried and cried. My own suffering was still so fresh.

Matthieu and I got married, and left for our year in Africa, where our work was overseen by Mark and his wife. The rest of the team met him, but his trips to Hargeisa never fell during our months there; and we only spoke to him on the phone, never in person. When we returned from Africa, we learned that Lin’s husband Barry had died.

A couple of years after that, we heard that Mark and Diane had returned to the States so that their children could finish high school and attend college. Right after their move back, Diane said she was feeling tired and was going to  go lie down. She went into her bedroom, suffered an aneurism, and never woke up from her nap.

This weekend I was plunged into the memories of Africa. This weekend I was a fountain of tears as I remembered our time there, and saw some of the walls around my heart crumble away. This weekend I was inspired to action once again.

Six years after Mark’s wife died, he and Lin got married to each other. And now they are taking care of each other’s kids (and grandkids) – together!

And this weekend they came to visit our church in Paris.

In Kenya. ten hours of braiding, done by 3 friends.

In Kenya. ten hours of braiding, done by 3 friends.

I was not able to hear Lin speak to the women on Saturday because I was teaching, but I had a good conversation with her after church on Sunday – one of those ‘chewy’ kinds of conversations, where you skip the small talk and get right to the heart of the matter.

Not only had Lin lost her husband all those years back – she also lost her job shortly after that. For one year, her suffering was so great, it was hard for her to leave her bed. And this was not even her first bout with suffering! Her parents were missionaries in the Dominican Republic where they were prisoners of war for three months. Lin saw a couple killed right before her eyes when she was nine years old.

She said that when you suffer, you can cut off the parts that hurt, the same way you would cut off a diseased limb. You cut it off to preserve yourself – to preserve your sanity. But when you do that, you’re also cutting off your possibilities for happiness. Yes, you feel less pain. But then you feel less overall.

Dry, hot, barren Djibouti.

Dry, hot, barren Djibouti.

On the other hand, when you embrace the suffering and really feel it, then you suck the marrow out of life. You live. You really live. This is a hard concept for an addict like me who would rather not feel anything uncomfortable.

The rift valley in Kenya.

The Rift Valley in Kenya.

Mark spoke at church yesterday, and shared news and pictures of what our donations are doing in Haiti and in the Ivory Coast, among other places. He went to the Ivory Coast during the civil war in 2011, when 3000 dead bodies lined the streets so that they were burning bodies on every street corner.

Our monetary help provided food, training, jobs for the members of our church there, so that they were in turn able to help other people.

The orphanage dormitories in Hargeisa.

The orphanage dormitories in Hargeisa.

He showed pictures of Haiti and the after-effects of mass devastation from the earthquakes. They built an entirely new community of 60 houses, including a school, a church and a clinic for the disciples there, so that they could in turn help other people. Mark is in his sixties (I think) and he has not stopped. He keeps going, keeps giving, keeps loving, keeps fighting.

Beautiful orphans in Hargeisa.

Beautiful orphans in Hargeisa.

And I just want to weep that I’m not doing the same.

I know, I know. We’re not missionaries. My husband has a hectic job that involves long hours and travel. And he is doing good – bringing about good – through his job. Our children are our most precious charge, and one that God does not want us to neglect. We can do good right here in our own city.

The shoeboxes! The precious Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes that so many of you lovingly donate!

The shoeboxes! The precious Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes that so many of you lovingly donate.

Since my people are crushed, I am crushed;
    I mourn, and horror grips me.
Is there no balm in Gilead?
    Is there no physician there?
Why then is there no healing
    for the wound of my people?
Oh, that my head were a spring of water
    and my eyes a fountain of tears!
I would weep day and night
    for the slain of my people.

(Jeremiah 8:21-9:1)

This was the scripture that Mark shared with us yesterday. God sees the pain of the homeless, the broken, the sick, the prisoners, the orphans. And he cares about their pain, weeping a fountain of tears.

But he works through us – through our love and good deeds. And that, in turn, is very healing for us. It says in Isaiah 58 that when you share your food with the hungry, and provide the poor wanderer with shelter – when you see the naked (and not close your eyes to his plight) but clothe him, and when you not turn away from your own flesh and blood . . . Then

Orphans eating with their hands in Hargeisa.

Orphans eating with their hands in Hargeisa.

your light will break forth like the dawn,
    and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
    and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
    you will cry for help, and he will say: here am I.

The Lord will guide you always;
    he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
    and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
    like a spring whose waters never fail.

then you will find your joy in the Lord,
    and I will cause you to ride in triumph on the heights of the land
    and to feast on the inheritance of your father Jacob.’
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

When we give to others and ease their suffering, we find – in some sort of miraculous way – our own joy and healing.

Children waiting for their shoeboxes full of gifts.

Children waiting for their shoeboxes full of gifts.

After church, we went up to Mark and introduced ourselves, and his eyes lit up with recognition when he heard our names. He thanked us for our work there. But I said, “I miss Africa – I want to do more.

One happy child with her treasure.

One happy child with her treasure.

“You can!” he answers in that robust way of his, where laughter and energy are infused in every word.

“There is always so much to do.”

Africa11

* * *

I didn’t intend to include a link for donations when I began this post, but if you are looking for something to do through financial donations or through volunteering, Hope worldwide is just one way you can help.

Comments

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I am the daughter of a symphony musician who was raised in upstate New York, and I simply breathe all things classical, be it music or 19th century literature (English and Russian). I married Sir Renaissance in New York City, and before I knew it, he had swept me up and brought me back home to his own country. So here we are. Three children, a rather ordinary life in a rather exceptional place. I am now ‘A Lady in France.’

Posted in Exhortation, Faith, God's Love
9 comments on “A Fountain of Tears
  1. “I want to do more.” This is what we should all say. Thank you for the links to help.
    tracy@sellabitmum recently posted…Five Ways To Tell You Are Not A Dance MomMy Profile

  2. and the day starts in tears from your beautiful words and photos and the heartfelt sentiment that shines thro in each and every line.
    Yes, we must, we have to … perspective is what brings me thro each and every day of late – and knowing that I am able to do more, share more and care more … makes my troubles seem so very small xxxx
    sisters from another mister recently posted…Fatherless ChildrenMy Profile

    • ladyjennie says:

      I thought of you when I was talking to Lin, Nicole. You are having troubles and it does require bravery. She said that she can understand people so much better now than she could as a young adult. But it’s true that focusing outwards is a path towards healing. Love you.

  3. ladyjennie says:

    I know! Aren’t they such an inspiring couple? Thank you, my large-hearted friend.

  4. Alexa says:

    I just KNEW Mark and Lin would wind up married! This was an incredible post Jennie. Just by sharing this, you are doing good. I want to get more involved in the shoebox project. The picture of those littles just waiting for their precious package… oh my heart.
    Thank you for this beautiful post.
    Alexa recently posted…I Need Some Help Here!My Profile

  5. Hillary says:

    I want to do more. I want to participate in Operation Christmas Child. I am amazed at the work your church is doing. God bless your efforts in every way! One of the most beautiful things about our faith is that Christ understands our suffering, for God became a helpless baby who was destined to feel hunger, weariness, anxiety, pain and anguish and someday die on a cross. Mother Teresa said, “We must not serve the poor as if they were Jesus. We should serve the poor because they are Jesus.” I need to serve them more. I feel so selfish often in my comfortable world.
    Hillary recently posted…Sunlight on the Forest Floor: Mass and LiturgyMy Profile

  6. Kimberly says:

    This is such a heartfelt post my friend. So many of us say that we need to do more but few do anything about it. Mark and Lin are a dime a dozen. Thank goodness for them. xo
    Kimberly recently posted…The Grey AreaMy Profile

  7. Andrea says:

    It’s so wonderful to see the shoeboxes being delivered, to see that they are received by grateful hands.

    Thank you so much for your help, Jennie, not only through the work that you have done in the past, but by the work that you do now – by raising children who share your love of others, nurturing relationships with those who are helping, and sharing with us ways that we can help.
    Andrea recently posted…DIY Breakfast CasseroleMy Profile

I'm Lady Jennie - Welcome to A Lady in France!

I think I was born in the wrong era. I am meant to live in the 19th century. In England. Born into an aristocratic family that is independently wealthy and doesn't need to marry off its daughters to save them from becoming spinster governesses. ( To continue reading, please click here. )

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