Just when I've had a pretty cynical season, seeing so much more of the selfish, closed-minded side of humanity, being frustrated by spiritual stagnation and seeing the same sins and self-serving over and over and over and over (in myself, in my family, in our nation). . . something has broken through to me this morning.
If you have been reading my blog for a while, you know I have written before about Julia over at Micah Six Eight, and esp. the "Mulligan Stew" fundraiser she organizes every year to help raise funds to see Eastern European special needs orphans brought into loving families. She also advocates for who she calls the "Lost Boys," boys with Down Syndrome or Cerebral Palsy or other special needs who were not adopted and are now facing a lifetime of institutionalization in conditions we would call at best "primitive"--or at worst "criminal."
There was a boy who was given the fundraising moniker "Hanson":
photo from Reece's Rainbow
He was one of the "Lost Boys" that Julia championed. But he died, alone, in a crib in a barren room--unloved, uncared-for. Overlooked. Ignored. Deemed as worthless.
His death is one of those quiet tragedies that play out across our globe every second of every moment of every day.
It is so easy to not think about the things that don't immediately affect us.
It is so easy to not think about the things that would make our hearts ache, if we stopped to really think about them. The same things that make God's heart ache.
The world says there's no reason to care about this little boy, half a world away, who spent his whole life in a crib, was not loved, who had physical issues and may have had significant mental delays and was not able to contribute to society. Because of course these are the things that give our lives worth: our contributions to society. Or being loved by somebody. Or having presence in the public arena. Or even fully understanding what's going on around us.
Not just being noticed, but being seen.
Yes, those are the ways we assign value to a person. Estimate their worth. But that's not how God sees our value.
And this morning, I read on Julia's blog a jaw-dropping, handkerchief-filling testimony to the value of a life, when we see "the least of these" through God's eyes.
Ok, maybe the story won't mean the same to you--maybe you won't be struck so hard by all the attention being given to someone who represents the forgotten. The effort and time and planning and thought being offered as a sacrifice in homage of those who the world says wouldn't deserve it. Some people are saying, because I love, I care. And because I care, I grieve. And because I love and care and grieve--I celebrate. I urge you to go read it.
I am in tears. How can this happen to children? How can they die alone in a crib? It's horrific.
ReplyDeleteThe only comfort is that we know Hansen is resting with his Creator right now and is not alone anymore.