May Responses
QUESTION --
Hope is a huge word for us here at Jedidiah.
We have hope for a better future and hope in each other. We also have our Hope Collection which provides the real soul of our company. So yeah, hope is a big concept for us. With that in mind, here is what we are asked you to do.
Please provide a story from your life where you truly felt the overwhelming feeling of hope or when you witnessed someone else display hope to you.
Your stories matter.
Carnitas is Hope
by: Elizabeth K Kalama
ekalama@gmail.com
San Diego
Posted: 5.10.2008
Last summer I had the honor and privilege of traveling to Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) and it was there that I a married couple who embodied hope. Simon Pierre, the pastor of a church in Kigali, Rwanda, and his wife Carnitas are a symbols of the life-giving regenerative powers of hope in a seemingly hopeless society.
Rwanda suffered from an brutal civil war that crippled the country and the conflict was between the Hutu's and the Tutsi's and this war has been know for its extreme brutality and efficiency in executing masses of people in a short period of time. Simon Pierre is a Hutu and his wife, Carnitas, is a Tutsi, so there marriage alone is a symbol of hope and reconciliation, however, during the war, Hutu's were murdering Tutsi's and Carnitas was caught one day by the Hutu extremists and forced to strip and was held at gun point. But just before the rebels could kill her, someone called the rebels and somehow some stranger paid for her life, bribing the rebels and so they let her go. Now years after the war, Carnitas and Simon were walking through Kigali, one of the hardest hit regions during the genocide which is evidenced by the sheer number of orphans living in the city, and they saw the man who held Carnitas at gun point. And Carnitas went up to him and said she loved him and forgave him, the man was afraid for his life so he fled. A year later Carnitas learned that that same man was sick in the hospital and she went and visited him everyday. Carnitas embodied hope, and true hope calls for action and everyday she lives this out. And through her actions she is changing her world and making it a beautiful place.
The Painting
by: Kaitlin Humes
Columbia
Posted: 5.15.2008
She was almost finished. A few final brushstrokes were needed, and then the painting would be complete. She gripped the brush in her small hand and his large, warm hand wrapped around hers as they put the last touches of paint on the canvas.
They washed the brushes together, laughing and flicking water at each other. He handed her a towel and she leaned back against the sink, looking at the painting. It was beautiful. "Is that really the way you see me?" She whispered.
She looked down at her straggling braids, her blotchy skin, and her bruised feet. "I don't think it looks very much like me." She looked up at him as he smiled. "That is who you are," he reassured her. She stared back at the painting.
There was a golden light around the girl in the painting, and the golden light suffused everything and made it beautiful. The girl's hair was lighter around the edges, and her skin was glowing. Her eyes were brighter and her clothes were tinged with gold. It was a lovely portrait.
He got up to leave and she walked him to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "Sleep well." "Thank you." She waited until she could not see him anymore and she went back to the painting, studying it. "I just don't think it looks like me."
She started to put the brushes away and then glanced back at the painting. "Maybe I can make it look more realistic." She grabbed some brushes and paint and studied the painting. "Hm, let's see, how should I do this..." she dabbed some paint onto a brush and set out to make the skin look blotchy.
From the moment the brush touched the canvas, she knew it was wrong. Each bit of paint was destroying the beautiful artwork they had created. She started to panic and tried to paint the bruises on the feet. It looked worse and worse; finally, with tears of frustration, she got out a palette knife to scrape the paint off.
She was so intent on getting the paint off that the knife slipped and dug into the canvas. "No!" she cried. She tried to affix the pieces of canvas together but they would not stick. She lost control and began jabbing and painting, ripping it to pieces. Finally, she threw the palette knife on the floor and sat, rocking herself, weeping. She had ruined the beautiful picture.
"What is wrong, dear one?" She jumped, and stared up at him with mournful eyes. "Look what I did." She pointed at the painting. His face became sad. "I tried to make it look more like me." "Beloved, that is not what you are." He helped her up and they looked at the painting.
"Do you want to fix it?" She looked up at him, eyebrows pulled together. "What? How could I fix that?" "I can help you," he said simply. He put his hand around her and they picked up a brush. "If you want to change it, I will help you." They began painting again.
It took a long time. It was an arduous process. Each piece of fabric and every bit of paint had to be put back together tenderly and with extreme care. Finally, however, the painting was finished. It looked beautiful. The golden light around the girl in the portrait looked just as lovely as it had the first time. "Thank you," she said. "I shouldn't have tried to 'fix' it on my own." He held her in his arms. "I love you," he said softly.
- I wrote this to show what happens when we give into temptation. We destroy the beautiful thing God has created and it is only through him that we are able to withstand temptation, begin anew, and live like the beautiful creation has made us to be. He is our hope.
A Mother With No Children
by: Kevin Murray
San Diego
Posted: 5.16.2008
In April of 2006 I had the chance to visit an orphanage in Gulu, Uganda. That is where I met one of the most inspirational people I have ever known. Her name is Filda and she has dedicated her life to the service of others. Although she never had children of her own, she is the mother to 81 beautiful kids ranging from newborn to 12 years old. She also mentors a small group of young women who also live in the orphanage. Filda told me that once she tried to take a vacation, but after 2 days had to come back because she missed her kids so much. She also told me that she can not even imagine herself doing anything else, she has found her calling, she has found her purpose.
Uganda has a law that no one outside of Uganda can adopt a child, so Filda has only been able to place a handful of children with other families. But she remains hopeful that all of these children will grow up feeling loved and accepted. Her hope has directed her life and has landed her exactly where she belongs. My family had so much fun that day watching a woman turn hope into action. Her action is her life of service, full of so much love for these orphaned kids.
I hope I never forget her.
Love > Me.
by: Matthew Purifoy
Dickinson, TX
Posted: 5.17.2008
About a year ago I was part of a youth camp for my church's youth outreach program. It had only been about a month since my wife and I had gotten married, and I had been devoting near all of my time to the church since our wedding, she wasn't even going to be able to make it to the camp. And of course I was alright with that. I was on a mission, I was going to save the world. I remember sitting there in prayer, along with a roomful of others, praying out loud, trying to find the words to say what our hearts felt for our students, for ourselves... and eventually, I came around to praying that no matter what human walls stand between us and Him, that they would be broken and love would break through.
As it turned out, my wife loved me so much that she drove up to the camp to spend the weekend with me( or as close to with me as possible, we had seperate dorm rooms... yeesh...) and somehow it got brought into perspective how I had been neglecting not just her, but my students, the church, and myself, much less God through my drive, my all consuming desire to feel like I was fixing something. So after hours of crying and hours of praying, I stood on the edge of a cliff I had never been on before, and in that moment, I knew hope. Hope for the future, hope for my family, hope for my students, hope for the world. In that moment I realized more fully than I ever had before that when we make ourselves smaller, we make everyone else greater.
Love > me.
There's Still Hope For Me...
by: Dave Hansow
Montrose, CO
Posted: 5.19.2008
My wife and I since we were in high school spoke of..jokingly of course..of adopting from Africa. Well, we got married pretty early by almost any standard, at 20 years old, finished school and had a son a few years later. A year passed and that funny little joke of adopting came up, but this time not as a joke. We began the process of adopting from Uganda (partially as a response to watching and helping Invisible Children)... no easy task! So this past year after working toward the adoption for over a year we decided that we should just move there! Again, crazy by almost any standard but we packed up, cleared up things at home and moved to Uganda.
While there, we did finalize our adoption of a beautiful girl named Jadyn. Also while we were there we met this group of women, Acholi's and most widows who made jewelry. So again, in our crazy fashion, after listening to needs and falling in love with this group of about 70 women, we decided that we were going to offer a consistent income to these women, of course..not having any idea what this would entail. Long story short, we are doing it.. today, a year later we have consistently offered a consistent income for the past year as well as telling their story in the states. ( You can see what this has become at www.lightgivesheat.org)
And there is where I saw HOPE! I went to Africa thinking there was Hope for Africa..and maybe somehow I was going to help bring some of that. Ha! Little did I know that everyone I met; widows raising 8 kids on their own, orphans living in orphanages without an end in sight and husbands without jobs for years all lived with more hope than I had ever dreamed of. I began to see that maybe hope looked a lot different than I had thought. That maybe instead of dreaming of hope for Africa, maybe Africa needed to teach me what hope looked like and that there was still hope for ME. And lastly that regardless of situation, HOPE is always a choice!
What Is Hope?
by: James Braxton Powell
Oneonta, AL
Posted: 5.23.2008
I had arrived home from India only 3 days ago... I went with about 12 other friends as we journeyed to learn and share compassion with the people in Patna Bihar. I have traveled to several countries and lived in Ecuador for about a year. So, nothing was really catching me "off guard", not the poverity, the cast system, or other social injustices around me. See I had seen these things before... While I loved on the kids and we taught them about making better decisions I remained emotioanlly "safe". Then it happened! We were taking a "tourist" day and we were going to visit a place one of my heroes had impacted India... Mother Teresa's Orphanage. A statue stood outside and a memorial area inside. What a nice day...right? Until I entered where the children were... My heart was ripped out! Here lay almost13 babies. Some blind, deaf or crippled. As I watched our team love and care for each of the babies I was in a confused state of emotions! Where is the HOPE?
That's when I began realizing... Hope was in the warm embrace. Hope was the man saving one of the little girls from a pack of wild dogs (they had already taken one of her arms). Hope, Hope my friends is a gift. We all have Hope. It's not a feeling or an emotion. Because when Hope is that it is only selfish. I began to hug and play with the children and older patients... See something weird happened that day. I thought I was giving them Hope even though I knew I couldn't change their surroundings. Though they changed none of my surroundings, in the middle of them they changed my heart... They gave me... HOPE. Hope is a gift... what will it cost us? Will we give Hope?
Hope After Loss
by: Brittany Esposito
Atlanta, GA
Posted: 5.23.2008
I recently returned from a two month trip to Uganda and the Sudan... I spent a week in a refuggee camp where me and a few others ate, slept and did exactly what they did.. We went to share life and the story of Jesus Christ. Many people would gather around us in a little mud "room" to ask questions in HOPE of finding real answers. There was one man who had just had his family murdered in front of him and his house and burned to the ground. The whole week he sat and listened... but the last day were there we asked for a response - if there was anything they wanted to tell us about our stay.. he stood up and very calmly explained that since losing his family he had felt such a burden and never felt release from it. But he continued to tell us that he decided to FORGIVE the people that took his family and home just as Jesus forgave him.. and when he did he finally felt release and a real HOPE for his future.
Drenched in Mud, Smiles and Song.
by: Adam Sams
Jacksonville, FL
Posted: 6.03.2008
In the rural town of Mukeu, Kenya, the people are farmers and shopkeepers. Utterly poor, but so utterly content. I'd walk down the muddy hill, on the soggy street to town, and along the way would be greeted and joined by the local children. All the kids who simply want to hold your hand and be blessed by a caring glance from the eyes of a young white stranger. All the kids, dressed in rags and smiles, would follow me to town, to see where I was heading on that particular morning. Sometimes I would go to one of the many general stores, and buy a few hundred shillings' worth of candy - enough to sweeten each happy child's tongue. I'm not sure whether most of those young minds understand a concept of hope, but I can see them holding on to every smile that I simply cannot hold in, and cherishing every single drop of sugar that they've received from my pocket full of candies. They don't seem too discontented with their simple lifestyle.
On Sunday, our group would attend a local church. I'd see all the men in their suits, and, it's ironic... that the suit seems to be the popular everyday attire amongst them, despite the dirty, dusty,muddy conditions of the town. And they manage to keep their outfits clean! .. While we trudge in our gum boots covered in mud, having given up trying to keep them mudless. All the women are in beautifully colored African dresses, and wear a common joy and hospitality that shines through their smiling faces. All the people in the church have a song inside them - they sing, dance, stomp, and clap the rhythm like nothing I've ever seen before. God has blessed their culture with music.
That's Mukeu - drenched in Mud, smiles and song. And hope.
I've never been so content in my life. While we're there, and after, my dad tells me that hes never seen me so content, either. And I've never seen such a content village of people. I think their whole community is so hopeful. They go to the clinic, to my dad and our good friend, the two doctors on the team, to get any sort of help they can. There is a line of people out front for hours throughout the day, waiting to be seen in. And the children, again - they come to my brother and I, to play soccer, or listen to me with my guitar. They love when I let them strum it. They are so blessed by the fact that a team of people made the continental trip to spend their Christmas break with them. We are, in turn, immensely blessed by their smiling faces, gracious hospitality, and powerful faith. They credit all to Christ, and their faith in him is stronger than anything I've seen before.. I think they belive in hope.
In this town... I don't think I can define hope. It's something I can feel running through the air, and through the people. The hope is within each humble African heart, and I can see it through their smiling faces! I leave them, filled with great peace. There is is so much more to life than our American materialism and discontentment and longing for earthly fulfillment. I wish I could be as thankful as those young, African children. Poor in earthly wealth, but rich in joy and love and community and faith. Their hope does not lie in this world. I think they can stand as an example for where our desires should lie.
