7 DAYS IN MALAWI

After a week in Malawi with The Grove’s team of 63 people, I just flew up to Kenya to meet up with our other Grove team that is headed to Liberia. As we waited for our connecting flight one of them asked me, “What are some highlights from your week in Malawi?” I love that question. I’ll share a few highlights with you:

Watching a new tin roof replace a widow’s dilapidated thatched roof was a highlight. When I showed up with our construction team to look at one of the widow’s huts that needed a new roof, even I was surprised at the condition of the roof. A few pieces of tattered plastic and a thin layer of thatch was supposed to keep out the rain… but it was full of holes. The guys took turns going inside because they couldn’t believe how much sunlight was coming through the gaping holes.

The next morning we returned with a pick-up full of lumber and tin. By that afternoon the small mud hut had a shiny new roof over the heads of a widow and her seven children. That was a highlight.

Pulling bright new colored t-shirts over the heads of 300 village kids was a highlight. Just before leaving for Africa, The Grove’s t-shirt printer had a fortunate misprint… he had misprinted hundreds shirts and didn’t know what he was going to do with them. I told him, “Let me buy them off you really cheap, and we’ll give them away in Malawi.” He was glad for the offer. So Saturday, when our team held a VBS for hundreds of children in the Chimpampa village, the kids showed up in the one outfit they owned: ragged, torn, dingy shirts, shorts, and dress. It was so fun to watch the expressions on their faces when our team began to pull bright purple, yellow, blue, and red t-shirts on every kid. The dusty village filled with color.

Hearing the stories of our people was a highlight. Every night, for a week, when we came together for dinner I got to hear the compelling stories of our people’s day. One young mother bubbled, “My afternoon with the high-school girls playing net-ball (a Malawian version of basketball only played by women) was the best experience of my life.” Another said, “When we showed up to paint the orphan girls’ bedrooms, we didn’t expect them to help, but they all came in and painted with us. It was the best day ever.” Three ran up to me one evening and exclaimed, “We spent the day taking mini-busses (public transportation) around Lilongwe buying 500 new plates and cups and spoons for all the kids in the feeding program… and together we are sponsoring three children from one family so they can eat every day too!”

Watching our women give giant bags of maize to widows was a highlight. One of our teams is spending their two weeks loving widows whose husbands have died of AIDS. Veronica and the team brought with them from America gifts like dresses and shoes. But on Friday they bought a bag of maize for each widow. A bag of maize doesn’t cost much to us, but it will feed one family for two to three months. It’s the Malawian staple. Without maize people die in Malawi, literally. Watching women from The Grove pull huge bags of life-giving maize through the doors of small mud huts was a beautiful highlight.

Having my twelve-year-old son ask if can give his shoes away was a highlight. In all the years I’ve been doing short-term trips to Africa, this was the first time my sons have been able to go with me. It was good. It was especially good when my twelve-year-old whispered to me, as we loaded up the van after our first day in the Chimpampa village where practically every child goes barefoot, “Dad, I brought two pairs of shoes with me, can I give one away before we leave?” I love it. He’s heard his dad’s passion, but now his heart is bothered. That was a great highlight.

ONE ROOF AT A TIME

I JUST WANT TO SAY THANK-YOU

Wow.

I am so humbled and impressed by the heart of everyone at The Grove.


This past Sunday, Mother's Day, is a Sunday I'll never forget.

If you were present, you already know that at the end of each service we invited people to walk up on stage on Mother's Day and take home the picture of a child who had no mother, and sponsor them; kids from Haiti, Liberia, and Malawi.

We hung a hundred profiles over the stage. We had received 132 profiles but I thought if we had 100 kids sponsored in one day, that would be amazing; and to be honest I wasn't quite sure 132 kids could be sponsored in one day, so we left 32 kids in a box... plus we ran out of room on our wire clothes lines.

At the close of the 8:00 service 28 kids were taken home on Mother's Day. We were all thrilled. I was hopeful, I thought maybe by the end of the third service they might all find a home.

But when we invited people up during the 9:30 service the stage was flooded. It seemed like every family present came to take a child home. When the stage cleared 70 more kids were sponsored! Just 2 profiles sill hung... they looked lonely.

Eric must have thought the same thing, because he ran down the aisle from the back row, jumped on stage, and grabbed the last two.

I loved the applause.

Fortunately (due to my lack of faith!) we still had 32 profiles left to hang for the third service. Those were gone in a heartbeat.

Thank you. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

Thank you for the sacrifice you will make every month to help feed these kids.

Thank you for loving a child on Mother's Day who has no mother.

Jesus' brother James said, "True Religion is to love widows and orphans." Thank you for living that way. Your religion really is true.

Grateful,
Palmer

I'M SICK

I’m sick.

I’ve just finished reading a New York Times article on the tragic murders of an albino mother and her five-year-old son in Burundi, who were killed by witch-doctors for their body parts. (New York Times, May 8, 2010, Burundi: Albino Mother and Son Are Killed.)

This is possibly the most senseless crime I have ever heard of.

About ten years ago belief spread in East Africa that eating the body parts of an albino will bring fortune and success. So witch-doctors and medicine men began hunting albinos. Since 2007, 71 albinos have been killed in Tanzania alone. Tens of thousands have gone into hiding. The entire notion is completely absurd – BUT IT’S NOT BEING STOPPED.

Here in the United States we are rightfully angered when people are biased against because of the color of their skin. But if mothers and five-year-old boys are dying in Burundi because of their skin color shouldn’t we all be outraged.

The killers must be brought to justice so that a message is sent loud and clear that no person anywhere will die because of the color of their skin.

One small step forward I am taking is to write to the President of Burundi to offer to help, in whatever way needed, stop this atrocity.


AN OPEN LETTER TO THE PRESIDENT OF BURUNDI, PIERRE NKURUNZIZA


Dear President Nkurunziza,

I write to you with a sad heart, saddened by the tragic murder of a Burundian mother and her five-year-old son.

I write to say these killers must be brought to justice. And I write to encourage you to pour every possible resource into protecting the lives of the marginalized albinos in Burundi.

I know that you are a man of God. I know your heart is good. So I simply write to implore you to seek justice for the albinos of Burundi.

I write on behalf of Christians everywhere to say, Please stop this senseless crime. I do not write to place blame or to judge, I write to encourage action.

I also write to offer the resources of every Christian in my country who cares about justice. I write to offer means to help educate a population that killing albinos is the worst kind of crime, the most senseless of crimes. Albinos, like all of us, are created by God, in His image, and they are loved and prized by God – it’s just that their skin is a different color. And only sheer ignorance would cause anyone to believe that there is magic in their bones.

I offer the recourses of every Christian in America who cares about justice to help shelter and protect the albinos of Burndi.

I write to offer to partner with you to rescue those who’s very lives are threatened because of the color of their skin.

May God’s great hand of blessing be on your life as you continue to lead with wisdom.


Respectfully,

Dr. Palmer Chinchen

TRUE RELIGION

TODAY IS NOT TOO SOON

As I write this sitting on a plane headed for Santo Domingo, I’m looking out the window watching the shadow of our 737 skim over the brilliant green water of the Caribbean, and reading a USA today article titled, “Too Soon for Service Trips to Haiti, Colleges Told.”

I’m on my way to Haiti. But our 737 packed with spring break college students leaving the U.S. to serve will go as far as the D.R.. The dozens and dozens of students on our flight will never make it to Haiti because they, like so many others, are being fed lines like, “Too soon for Service Trips to Haiti.”

If today is too soon, then when will the day be right? What greater disaster must a nation suffer before the time is right? The article states that the C.I.D.I. (an ominous sounding acronym for the Center for International Disaster Information) is advising volunteers to “wait until conditions are better to serve... at least one year,” it suggests.

What tragic irony. How will conditions ever get any better until people go and help make it better?

The article implies that volunteers and college students will use “valuable resources” in Haiti that can be better used by someone else. That statement would be funny if it weren’t so sad. I’ll bet cash money the person who made this statement at the CIDI has never set foot in Haiti. Believe me, I’ve been there. Even in Port au Prince there’s enough bread and bananas and goat (yep, our last team had goat in Port au Prince) to feed college students.

This same kind of reasoning is what vexed me when buildings came crashing down in
January. It took five days of sitting and watching and assessing and evaluating before our government felt it was “safe” enough to allow earthquake rescue workers into Port au Prince to begin digging through the rubble for survivors. FIVE DAYS! I was sick. We should have had people there in five hours. Literally.

Sean Penn is a stud. He’s in Haiti right now yelling for America to get down there and get people out of the mud and rain. He’s built a camp for 45,000 Haitians who have lost their homes. I caught him on CNN this week. He said, “Get down here or people will die!” He’s right.

I hope you see what I’m saying, wherever or whatever the need, circumstances will never be perfect or perfectly safe. But go anyway. That’s when you’re needed most.


*To view Anderson Cooper's interview with Sean Penn click HERE

ROSETTA'S TENT

Ten-year-old Deannzi greeted us with a bright smile as she stood in front of her broken home. She pointed us through the rubble to where we could find her Aunt.

I told some of you that when I was in Port au Prince, just after the tragic earthquake, I met a young mother of three who was living under bed sheets, in front of her crumbled home, that sat collapsed on two of her family – turning their concrete home into to a rubble tomb.

Her name is Rosetta. I’ve had a tough time forgetting about Rosetta. I don’t think life gets any worse than when you end up living on the dirt in front of your broken home full of sorrow.

Late yesterday afternoon, as the hot Haitian sun went down and the air cooled I stopped to visit Rosetta with Tom and Matt and Rich. She’s still living on the dirt. I thought she might be and I knew that when the rains come her bed-sheet home will become a muddy pit, so I brought Rosetta a tent.

As we put the tent together it looked small. Target labeled it a “6 man” tent – it’s not that big, I wished it was bigger.

Rosetta smiled. She was gracious and grateful.

I sure wished the tent was bigger.

She said since the earthquake crumbled their home on January 12th no one from anywhere has stopped to give them anything. Deannzi’s father asked if we had another tent, they were living under bed-sheets too. We did, so we set up another tent for Deannzi’s family. As we finished putting up the tents Rosetta warmly thanked us again; I still wished the tent was bigger.

I guess I had wanted to do something bigger. The team of 19 from The Grove was a mile away building a new dorm for orphans; that felt big. The Grove is building a 12,000 sq. ft. gym for African Bible College in Liberia; that feels big. This bright green tent, dwarfed by slabs of broken concrete piled high behind it, looked small.

The lime green, “6-man” tent was the biggest one they had at Target, but I know I could have found a bigger one if I had just tried harder. I really wished I had looked harder for the biggest one I could buy. But I thought I was busy and didn’t have time.

After we said goodbye to Rosette I told Tom I wished the tent was bigger. Tom said he thought the tent was good. He said, It’s better than the dirt that will turn to mud when the rains come, plus the brilliant green tent seemed to really brighten Rosetta’s day.

He was right, it was good to see Rosetta smile.

I guess I say all this to remind all of us – remind me – that sometimes the world’s trouble seem so daunting that we begin to believe that my effort will be too small to matter, what I do is “just a drop in the bucket.” So at times we choose to do nothing – rather than something small.

Tom’s words reminded me that God has a way of using our small efforts too. Because isn’t it true that God uses one person to touch one life at a time.

So maybe on some days it’s okay to do the small things that are good.

Because on some days maybe God wants to sprinkle heaven just one drop at a time.