Beauty from Ashes

How does one write about children who live in
a garbage dump? It's not a Lemony Snicket story
or some dark dystopian tale. This is real. These
children are real. In 2017 we still live in a world
where children live in garbage dumps...in
Madagascar, in Cambodia, in the Philippines, in
Guatemala. The list goes on and on.

Today, Bruce and I went with an Iris medical team to visit children living in Antananarivo's garbage dump. We had been wanting to experience this aspect of Iris' community outreach for some time, but I can honestly say I didn't know quite what to expect. Were these children simply abandoned? Did they have parents who were too sick/disabled/drunk/lazy to work? Truly, I had no idea.

The dump itself is situated on a sort of island in the midst of the city's rice paddies. And it's not just a dump, it's actually a village with a road running through the middle. There are small, crumbling homes and some shopfronts. The people who live there comb the dump for items that can be made into handiwork -- colorful mats, baskets, even shoes. As we walked down the street, we saw many of the residents sitting in front of their homes sorting, cutting or weaving. They were literally creating beauty from ashes! These people were certainly not lazy. They were industrious and creative, but most were desperately poor and some were outcasts from the community, people who believed they belong in a garbage dump.

During the day, their children wander the dump in search of useful items. It was shocking to see them walking through heaps of burning rubbish in bare feet. Until recently, school had not been an option for any of these children. But the chief of the village is a compassionate man, so he offered two rooms of his small home to become classrooms. He could not pay for supplies or teachers, but our friends at Iris, knowing that the need for a school was great, have worked with a church in the US to sponsor this little school, which now has thirty students and two teachers. It was a joy to sit in the classroom with some of the smiling students who had their very own backpacks and notebooks.

We concluded the day by visiting the mother of one of the children involved in the Iris program. She had been suffering from severe abdominal pain for a week, and her husband was quite worried. With the Malagasy doctor who had accompanied us, we entered their tiny one room home and prayed for her. We don't know God's plan for her, but we know how much He loves her, and we know He has the power to heal. She wept as we prayed. We then took her husband to a pharmacy across from the US Embassy to get a prescription, which we hope will provide relief.

So what were my conclusions from the day? Poverty like this is hard to witness. Human beings, loved by their Heavenly Father, should never believe they belong in a dump. And yet joy was not absent. And the work that I see Iris doing here brings hope.

Before Jesus went to the cross, He said, "Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the work I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father." (John 14:12)  If we are to do what Jesus did, then we are to bring his love to those who are suffering, to those without hope. And thankfully He empowered us to do so by sending the Holy Spirit. We are to be His hands, His feet, His heart. In His love is great power -- power to heal, power to restore, power to achieve the impossible. So hope is never lost, but we must accept our calling to be messengers of hope..."to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair." (Isaiah 61:3) This is our hope!