C.S. Lewis when describing the Fall of man in The Problem of Pain,writes, "They wanted to be nouns, but they were, and eternally must be, mere adjectives." He's speaking of our desire to be God when we are and will forever be man. But I love the analogy he uses.
Adjectives, as we all know have one main function: to modify or describe a noun in the sentence. They cannot stand on their own. They cannot be the subject or perform an action. Their single purpose is to describe the noun, to show us more about what the noun is like.
And the noun. The noun is the meat of the sentence. You can't have a sentence without a noun or pronoun. There can be no story or subject or setting if there is no noun. The noun is the point. There need not be adjectives if there is no noun.
Isn't this a beautiful picture? Our single purpose or role on earth is to describe the Noun. Show the world what He is like. We need not try to be the Subject of the story or the sentence. We can never be. The story would not make sense if we tried to make an adjective the subject. It breaks the basic laws of grammar.
Nor would our story make sense if we tried to make ourselves and not God the subject. It can never be about us. That would break a basic law of the universe.
So instead of pushing awkwardly into a grammatical place that does not belong to us, our role as believers is to be the best, most wonderful, beautiful adjectives that we can be that others might know more about the Noun through us.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Ezai's Going Home
It was Saturday afternoon when Diane Busch (the PA here) popped into my house with the biggest smile I've ever seen on her face. "Justine guess what! They found Ezai a home!"
I have tears in my eyes now as I remember that moment. Ezai has a home! The thought took a while to sink in. He'll have clean sheets, and pants to wear. He can eat every day, and he'll have a great family to love him.
Having spent the last several years of his life in the poor house in town, Ezai has never had the luxury of having more than his basic needs provided for. The poor house, which is aptly named, is home to about 18 people who live in two or three, dirt floored rooms and cook food in a pot on a fire outside. It is run by a sweet Haitian man with few resources, and most of the residents are elderly.
When you visit the poor house, Ezai, a 14 year old orphan with Cerebal Palsy stands out among the crowd. He is tall and thin, and his left foot is severely crippled. When he walks he kind of hobbles along, the front part of his ankle touching the ground, while his foot, bent awkwardly foward, follows behind. But the first thing you notice about Ezai isn't his handicap, but his smile.
Almost every time a visitor comes, Ezai races across the yard yelling happy sounds, and giving the newcomer the biggest hug ever. Though he cannot speak very well his smile says it all. Ezai is full of joy.
But his life is about to get much better. This year, after volunteering several times at the poor house, Diane Busch developed a special place in her heart for Ezai. She could see that this boy could not get the care he needed amongst the other residents at the poor house, and started to worry a bit for his health.
Then one day, on a plane ride to the US, Diane met a woman who had been working with an group home in Haiti for kids with Cerebal Palsy. She got off the plane with the woman's contact information and a renewed hope for Ezai. Now, less than two months later, the orphanage has contacted Diane to tell her that they have a place for Ezai!
God is sooo good to take care of his children! Pray for Diane as she works out the details for Ezai's big move. And pray for Ezai as he makes this transition. And praise God for the incredible way that He looks after widows and orphans.
I have tears in my eyes now as I remember that moment. Ezai has a home! The thought took a while to sink in. He'll have clean sheets, and pants to wear. He can eat every day, and he'll have a great family to love him.
Having spent the last several years of his life in the poor house in town, Ezai has never had the luxury of having more than his basic needs provided for. The poor house, which is aptly named, is home to about 18 people who live in two or three, dirt floored rooms and cook food in a pot on a fire outside. It is run by a sweet Haitian man with few resources, and most of the residents are elderly.
When you visit the poor house, Ezai, a 14 year old orphan with Cerebal Palsy stands out among the crowd. He is tall and thin, and his left foot is severely crippled. When he walks he kind of hobbles along, the front part of his ankle touching the ground, while his foot, bent awkwardly foward, follows behind. But the first thing you notice about Ezai isn't his handicap, but his smile.
Almost every time a visitor comes, Ezai races across the yard yelling happy sounds, and giving the newcomer the biggest hug ever. Though he cannot speak very well his smile says it all. Ezai is full of joy.
But his life is about to get much better. This year, after volunteering several times at the poor house, Diane Busch developed a special place in her heart for Ezai. She could see that this boy could not get the care he needed amongst the other residents at the poor house, and started to worry a bit for his health.
Then one day, on a plane ride to the US, Diane met a woman who had been working with an group home in Haiti for kids with Cerebal Palsy. She got off the plane with the woman's contact information and a renewed hope for Ezai. Now, less than two months later, the orphanage has contacted Diane to tell her that they have a place for Ezai!
God is sooo good to take care of his children! Pray for Diane as she works out the details for Ezai's big move. And pray for Ezai as he makes this transition. And praise God for the incredible way that He looks after widows and orphans.
She's Haitian
Today I walked to the bank with Merline. Motorcycles and rickety old trucks rumbled by on the dusty roads as we walked. In the span of our half mile walk, we stopped at least 4 times to speak with friends shaking their hands and giving hugs. This friendliness and built in social time may be one of my favorite parts of this culture.
We were both smiling as we started approaching the bank, and Merline looked at me and said, "Justine, you are very popular. Everyone wants to see you." We laughed, as Merline added, "You are Haitian."
About a second after she said that, a stranger sitting on the ground in the shade of the 2 story block bank building. Yelled, "Blanc! Blanc!" (white white) In an attempt to get my attention. Almost every time I walk down the street I hear this words which are almost always followed by a request for money or sometimes a vulgar comment.
It's not that being called white is offensive by itself. But the way it is used in the street often feels direspectful. My Haitian friends would never call for me like that, nor would my students, or the people attending the church. They may describe me as blanc or as the blanc which I don't mind, but they would never just say "White told me to do this." They would use my name.
Because of this, I generally don't respond to these calls and often times block them out entirely. This may sound silly, but being called Blanc in the street is one of my least favorite things about living here. It is also one of the things I have the least power to change. So I try to let the words roll off me every time.
But today, as the woman yelled these words at me, Merline turned to her and said, "Li pa blanc. Li se Aytian." (She's not white. She's Haitian.) What a neat compliment! Though she had just said the same thing to me seconds before, it meant a lot to me to hear Merline telling a perfect stranger that I am Haitian.
We were both smiling as we started approaching the bank, and Merline looked at me and said, "Justine, you are very popular. Everyone wants to see you." We laughed, as Merline added, "You are Haitian."
About a second after she said that, a stranger sitting on the ground in the shade of the 2 story block bank building. Yelled, "Blanc! Blanc!" (white white) In an attempt to get my attention. Almost every time I walk down the street I hear this words which are almost always followed by a request for money or sometimes a vulgar comment.
It's not that being called white is offensive by itself. But the way it is used in the street often feels direspectful. My Haitian friends would never call for me like that, nor would my students, or the people attending the church. They may describe me as blanc or as the blanc which I don't mind, but they would never just say "White told me to do this." They would use my name.
Because of this, I generally don't respond to these calls and often times block them out entirely. This may sound silly, but being called Blanc in the street is one of my least favorite things about living here. It is also one of the things I have the least power to change. So I try to let the words roll off me every time.
But today, as the woman yelled these words at me, Merline turned to her and said, "Li pa blanc. Li se Aytian." (She's not white. She's Haitian.) What a neat compliment! Though she had just said the same thing to me seconds before, it meant a lot to me to hear Merline telling a perfect stranger that I am Haitian.
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