Cookies and Seven Year Olds

I had a GREAT day yesterday. I spent the morning baking peanut butter cookies. Being the non-domestic person that I am, this was a big deal. John and I are addicted to the home-made peanut butter here, so I figured we needed another way to injest the delicious product. Mom,
you should be proud - I only burned the first dozen! The baking part was comical, but the best part of making the cookies was giving them out. I went and visited a bunch of my neighbours, and had great chats as I delivered the treats. (It was much more successful than my similar plan when we moved to a new apartment in Regent Park - I made cookies for all the neighbours on our floor and barely anyone would even open their door to check them out!) I got a lot of compliments on my baking, but I think the fact that sugar can be hard to come by here - and Zimbabweans love their sweets - had something to do with it.

One neighbour's comment really struck me. Her name is Noreen, and she is Muslim. We had a great chat about life, and as I was leaving, she thanked me for the cookies and the visit. Then she said, "your book says that you should love your neighbours as yourselves, right? Well, my dear, I think you do that very well. I'm just wondering why so many other Christians don't. So many of the Salvation Army people around here look so smart in their uniforms, but they seem so gloomy or unfriendly to me; maybe because I don't have one of the uniforms." Hmmm...

Today was more sobering. I went for a walk before church and ran into a family that was heading in my direction. I was talking with the mother, and she (of course) asked me if I have children. "Not yet." "Well, as you can see, I have these two daughters. I used to have a son too, but he died in February. He was 7. The good thing is that he only suffered for 4 days. He came down with stomach pains, and died 3 days later." As she was saying this, the boy's 2 beautiful,
older sisters just looked down at the ground. There was such pain in this wonderful, friendly family. There is something so unjust about a seven year old boy dying! We heard a great sermon in church today on "having the spirit of Jephthah" (a man in Judges 11 who was the son of a prostitute and went on to become a mighty warrior). The main idea is that we all have potential, and should not be held back because of any circumstances. I kept thinking about the woman beside me - and whether she was wondering what potential her late son had. Life is so hard. Thank God for grace.

Some people find this blog depressing, but I'm actually just trying to honour the lives of people that I'm meeting. I am blown away by the joy and faith and love and generosity that people have despite very painful situations. Grace.