Sweet Ideas

I’m very proud of my wife.  A few months ago Ruth had the idea of making a Bake and Crafts Sale for the Christmas season.  The plan was straightforward enough: bake a collection of items, set up and sell at the local supermarket, raise money for Dar El Awlad and increase awareness in the community.  The set-up was easy, but the execution was tricky.  Lots of gifted hands pitched in to bake, spread the word, prepare, and sell.  It was a team effort, but Ruth was the captain.  She was the first to start working and the last to stop.  This was her idea; she pushed it through and, in the end, made it a success.  

Some money was raised and some PR was spread.  DEA will benefit from the bake sale in ways we can measure and ways we cannot.  Maybe it won’t add up to much but it will add up to something.  Even so, I’m proud of Ruth.  It’s not because of what the bake sale earned but simply because it happened.  Everyone has good ideas about what can help the orphanage.  We all think we know the thing that will move things along or improve this or that.  In my experience I find that very rarely do ideas ever materialize.  This time they did.  It was a small endeavor, but sometimes even little ideas are big achievements when they actually happen.  I’m very proud of Ruth for what she does and what she is.  I hope she rubs off on others, especially me.

Bakers busy at work

The little kiosk

Smiling faces and helping hands!

Goodbye to a Friend

This week I said a goodbye to a friend.  It wasn't a final goodbye, but a difficult one nonetheless.  Camille was hired on staff at Dar El Awlad in 1984 by my grandfather and spent nearly 28 years serving at the ministry, first as a gardener and then as a cook.  Over the decades he prepared (literally) tons of food, watched many dozens of boys grow into men, and saw volunteers from all over the world come and go.  He was the last staff remnant of my grandparents’ time in Lebanon, and when he walked off site the final time the chapter on an era officially closed.  It’s not just the link to a nostalgic pass that I have said goodbye to; it is a friend.

Most of my days for the past six years have started with a “hello, how are you?” from Camille as I popped into the kitchen to give a morning greeting.  Over the years we shared running jokes about solving the problems of Dar El Awlad first and then sorting out the Middle East next, lessons on agriculture, updates on family, and discussion on the many things that fill this life between birth and death.  We gathered together in his mountain village and shared meals at his home in the city.  There were funerals and weddings, visits during holidays and drop-ins after surgeries.  There were goodbyes and there were welcome backs.  There was a season-through-season friendship.

Making a change now is good and right.  Camille’s kids are all grown, and he still has health and strength to spend time working in the village and tending to his lands.  His home in the city is near and it’ll be easy to him call up or stop by for a visit.  Community circles are small around here; our life has many more intersections to come.  But I’ll miss Camille’s daily presence at the ministry.  I’ll miss his interactions with the boys, his philosophical offerings for any situation, and his genuine concern about family and loved ones.  These coming days I will find myself facing something new.  It’s something small, but still something I haven’t had to experience during my years at Dar El Awlad.  I’m thankful that God brought us Camille nearly three decades ago, and I’m thankful that he has remained a consistent presence ever since.  May God help those of us remaining to likewise tarry on with steadiness and faithfulness, just like my friend Camille.

This little light of mine, helping us through study time.

We often have power issues at Dar El Awlad.  However, this time it's not about boys recognizing and respecting authority; it's about electricity.  The government has been sending only limited electricity our way (3-4 hours a day) and we can't afford to run our generator full-time (at $20 an hour we simply don't have the money to cover the diesel bills), so we've been dealing with power cuts.  Late sunrises and early sunsets combined with and a winter storm have left us often feeling our way in the dark. 

We've been resorting to old-fashioned candle light for study time as we wait for the generator to kick in for the evening.  Actually the results have been positive.  I don't know if it's the soft glow of a little flame or the inner longing for a sense of ruggedness, but the boys seem to be more attentive and focused.  Maybe we'll stick with the wax and wick even when the electricity problems are sorted out.  It will be nice to at least have the option of light bulbs though.

The Future of Syria and the Hope in Reaching Another's Pain

I want to invite you to step into someone else’s pain.  The Syrian displacement tragedy is the greatest man-made humanitarian crisis of the 21^st century.  Of the many millions affected, children are the least at fault and yet the most to suffer.  The UNHCR has recently released an intensive report on the plight of the over one million children living this continuous nightmare.  The Future of Syria report provides an in-depth analysis of the scope and dimensions of the suffering.  I encourage you to take some time to read the stories, ponder the statistics, and grasp the sheer scale of the crisis. 

In the coming weeks I hope to draw from the Future of Syria report and share how particular problems are facing children I know.  These may be individuals currently in Dar El Awlad programs or family relatives that have seen life turned upside down by war.  I’d like this to be a tool for others to enter into the pain of the victims and sympathize with the human fallout of armed conflict, but I’m not sure how possible this is.  The issue is not a shortage of knowledge (modern technology has made information very accessible) nor is it a lack of caring (there are many compassionate people around, I know this).  I simply believe the chasm between the experiences of the suffering displaced and us is too great to bridge.

For the nearly the past three years I have journeyed through this conflict and watched it drain the lives of countless individuals.  I’ve sat in refugee tents and visited makeshift camps.  I’ve heard the tales of fleeing in the night from pending attacks and navigating escape routes through combat zones.  I’ve held babies born in displacement and gathered supplies for relief distribution.  I’ve witnessed families divided and tried helping to track down a missing person.  I’ve offered hallow explanations about what is going on and what might happen.  Mostly I’ve just sat in silence, listened to despair and said “I don’t know… I’m sorry.”  I’ve been affected by the armed conflict; my life has been changed by it.  Even so, I’m so far away from it all.  The painful realities facing millions is a reality that I cannot claim as mine.  I occasionally visit their situation of pain, but I live in a different world.  I wake up from the nightmare, they never do.

So what’s the point of caring if I can’t fully feel what they feel?  How do I offer compassion or sympathy in a situation that I can so easily walk away from?  All would be futile and empty if it wasn’t for a baby born two centuries ago.  One single life changed the way we know someone’s pain because it showed to the world that God has felt pain.  Christ was born in a barn.  He was a child refugee forced to flee threats of violence.  His life was one of instability and flux.  Ultimately, Christ suffered rejection and endured death on a cross.  He knows pain.  He knows displacement.  He knows what it’s like when your whole world is turned upside down.  That’s why He can bring hope.  My only prayer for reaching into someone’s pain is the knowledge that I don’t have to bridge the chasm between our experiences. God does.  His grace reaches the deepest parts of hearts alike.  When we read a news story or a U.N. report and learn about another’s pain, we know that God is the only hope we have to respond in any way that will make a difference.  This is all the hope we need to press on in love.

Our Lebanon Independence Day: Tradition in Creation

November 22 is Lebanese Independence Day and, as is tradition, Dar El Awlad sent a group of young patriots to climb a mountain.  About an hour drive from Dar El Awlad lays the quaint village Baskinta nestled within the mountains under the shadow of Mount Sannine (8,622 ft).  It’s a stunning place, perhaps my favorite getaway destination in all of Lebanon. 

The rock and dirt is a welcome change of terrain from the concrete our boys are used to in their urban jungle habitats.  An encounter with the wild mountains is good for any city creatures.  I always enjoy discovering the elements of character and personalities that show themselves when these boys are out of their natural environment.  They’re full of surprises!

Some made it to the summit, others got…halfway.  But that didn't really matter; each one reached the personal heights that mattered.  What is important is that we extended our gaze at God’s wonderful creation and enjoyed the landscapes of the country that has taken us as residents.  Personally, I’m fortunate to spend a day doing something I love to do with a special group of guys.  We’re already looking forward to Independence Day 2014!  I trust the mountain will be waiting for us, as it has done for the ages.

About to set out on our ascent. Maybe we're not all looking up for it?

Setting off.  Soon we'll blaze our own trail. 

 Don't be fooled.  The crest is farther than it looks.

 With sights like this it was easy to be distracted away from feelings of toil

 Taking on some scrambling

 Stopping at a perch to prepare our lunch.

 Moving horizontally can be harder than moving vertically.  This fellowship did great.

Wrapping it up. Tired but feeling accomplished.

A Weekend of Memorials and Marathons

As much as possible we try to provide our boys with fulfilling, interesting, and positive life experiences.  This isn’t often easy with the limited resource at our disposal, but occasionally we get a weekend like this past one when new challenges are faced and great memories are made.

Remembrance Day is celebrated in early November when Commonwealth countries remember those who served country and died in combat.  The observation goes back to 1919 and is honored around the globe.  In Beirut, the British Embassy organizes a very appropriate and sincere ceremony at the Beirut British War Cemetery.  In the midst of a hectic metropolitan, this tranquil site individually marks 1,147 lives of diverse nationalities that were lost in the two World Wars.  Each year a young man from Dar El Awlad is given the honor of participating in the ceremony by laying the wreath.  It is quite an experience for our boys and each year I’m impressed by how they are treated with such respect, interest, and encouragement.

This year Ochinga was the representative to perform the honor.  He even showed up with a DEA entourage.  Ochinga usually is not the type to be coy or nervous, but when he saw the crowd of uniformed men and women, he got a case of the butterflies and needed some steady reassurance.  As we awaited the start of the program he prayed a prayer for steadiness and concentration, and when his time came he proved to be an ace.  Afterwards we enjoyed a reception and the chance to mingle with ambassadors, embassy staff, defense attaches, and international United Nations peacekeepers.  The real treat was to converse with some Lebanese WWII veterans who could still recall the war stories and recite the patriotic verses of nearly 70 years ago.  It was a special encounter of our boys as they interacted with living history and gained a greater appreciation of the generations that have preceded us.  Of the many events I get to be a part of each year, this remains one of the most special and meaningful.  We greatly appreciate the British Embassy for inviting Dar El Awlad to be part of Remembrance Day each year.

Ochinga laying the wreath following the 2 Minutes of Silence during Remembrance Day at the Beirut British War Cemetery.  

Personal recognition of a task done well.

A moment with His Excellency

U.N. Servicemen from India

Listening to our very own veterans share memories of WWII.  We won't have many opportunities to experience this living history again.

Remembrance Day is usually held on Sunday morning but this year it was on Saturday because Sunday was the……

Beirut Marathon!  Each November the city of Beirut turns the streets over to runners for the annual Beirut Marathon.  There is indeed an official marathon, but most people participate in the attached 10 K race (which I have done ran the past couple years) and a 5K youth run.  Thanks to the local Lions Club, 10 of our boys between the ages of 10 and 14 were invited to participate in the 5K.  We joined many thousands in gathering with participants from around the country to share in the uniting experience of sport.  I think this is a great event that really shines a hopeful light on Lebanon and serves as an inspiration to its residents.  We had a good time even if it wasn't a very fast time.  For each of our boys it was the first chance to be in a proper race and I hope it won’t be the last.  All day they were full of stories about the event.  They weren't all accurate stories, but in a sincere way they were all true.  That’s what’s important to these kids after all.

 Stretching before the race.  But who was I kidding, these kids still have rubber for muscles.  They're not looking at 30 like me.

 Making our way to the starting line.  I lost four boys along the way.  No worries, they all made it across the finish line eventually!

 Debriefing and enjoying treats from the post-race sack.

In a race like this, we're all winners!  But I get to take the prize in the middle!

Take your wife to work day!

This week Ruth had a day off from school for Reformation Day (Yes, one may have to travel to Lebanon to find a legitimate Reformation Day remembrance) and rather than sleep in she got up early to join me at the New Horizons Center.  It was her first chance to meet the kids and staff of the program and their first chance to meet Ruth.  She was quite a hit among all and I’m anticipating disappointment in future weeks when I turn up alone.   The day gave her a chance to see the different challenges facing the children as well as opportunities to impact some special lives.  

 It wasn’t all business.  Saida is a wonderful seaside down with castle ruins, old markets, and delicious fresh fish.  We took our time getting home and enjoyed a little day out in the old city.

 

 Carpentry at the old market.  A certain carpenter once visited Saida a couple thousand years ago! 

One can easily get lost in the maze of narrow rows and tunnels.

 We love old stairs...

and doors!

Last week the show came to town.  A local Arabic-language Christian satellite station, Sat 7, featured Dar El Awlad on it’s show Yella Nghanny Sawa (Let’s Sing Together).  The host of the program happens to be Ruth’s cousin, Marianne Daou, and a number of our boys have been guests of the live show in the past.  This time all the boys were featured!  They did a great job of getting through the production and displayed some rather fair showmanship qualities.  The episode will air this weekend and it will be interesting to see how they edit the show together.  I’m sure the boys will be excited to see themselves on tv.  Sat 7 reaches homes throughout the Arabic-speaking world so there will be many more who will see the boys as well.  May God use them to be a blessing!

Family Engagement

This past weekend we had a family engagement…literally.  My cousin Ahmad surprised us all and announced an engagement.  For the Bedouin, an engagement is a little more than a guy getting on one knee to pop a question.  It’s a family (even village) affair.  So on Saturday evening many gathered together to celebrate the start of this union.  There is a lot of tradition that goes into it, and it all went very well.  Ahmad has been one of my dearest friends and it was a pleasure to celebrate the special occasion with him.  Still, I’m glad my own engagement consisted of just me on one knee popping a question to Ruth.

An added bonus was the fact that my dad arrived right in the middle of the festivities.  He’s in town for the next couple of weeks on Kids Alive and personal business.  His presence added excitement to the event. Things have been quite hard on the family lately and the refugee crisis is affecting so many loved ones.  There’s been a lot of loss all around, but that couldn’t hamper an opportunity to cut loose and enjoy a moment of celebration.  Even in the midst of all that has been taken away, there’s still family, and that’s worth a lot.

Putting a ring on that finger.  Gotta love the rabbit.

When the photographers are photographed...the pictures come out blurry.

A mansaf lunch.  Dad got the sheep head platter.

The First Day of School is a Day of Accomplishment for Me

Some our boys heading out to Beirut for their first day of the school year.

Usually the last day of school is the day of accomplishment, but for me it’s the first day.  When the boys go off on that first day I know that I managed to get them set-up for the year ahead by registering them in new schools and classes, gathering with right books and equipment, and supplying the uniforms to keep up with their growing teenage bodies.  That may seem like a simple task, but I've actually found it to be quite complicated and taxing.  Most schools don’t provide school books for students (even if they do, you have to buy and sell on the street to get used books at a big discount).  They give you a list and you have to run around town to different book shops and track all the right books and updated editions.  I have yet to find a shop that carries all the books (every school follows different curriculum it seems), but I've learned which places are better stocked than others.  It’s not a straightforward process by any means, but over the years I've come to figure it out.  Still, there’s a relieving feeling of accomplishment when the boys head out on that first day looking ready for the year ahead.  There will be steady streams of needs throughout the year and more trips around town to make sure they have the supplies and equipment they need, but hopefully I managed to get them off on a good first step. 

First of Many Trips to the South

Yesterday I had my first trip to the New Horizons Center with the Kids Alive Lebanon Director Joseph Ghattas.  We met together with the teachers, discussed the year ahead, and began putting things in place as we plan to welcome children back on October 8^th.  It’s an exciting ministry to be a part of; the impact it is making is very real and there are many opportunities for growth.  I look forward to giving it my attention and energies.  It’s a great opportunity to do ministry and pray that I can be a productive member of the team assembled there.  No doubt you’ll be hearing a lot in the coming year(s) about the center, the children, and the different services being offered.  

A view from the roof of the New Horizons Center.  It's just south of  the coastal city of Saida (A Bible town, look for it in the gospels!).

One of the classrooms

This orchard of lemons trees will be transformed into a playground for the children in the coming weeks (the trees will stay!).  I'll post an after-picture at some later date.

A Pinch when Comfortable

We had a very comfortable summer.  During the course of two months we spent quiet times in the country, on the ranch, and at the lake cabin.  There were visits to the big city, fair, museum, gallery and stadium.  We stayed with family and friends, enjoyed recreation, shopping and dining.  It wasn't excessive, and I wouldn't call it overly indulgent.  But it was comfortable, fun, and enjoyable. 

None of that is wrong, but it is risky.  It’s risky because over the course of weeks I was startled by how easy it was for me to forget the situation facing masses in the Middle East.  War is impacting hundreds of millions in Lebanon, and included in the suffering are people that I love and care about greatly.  Yet in the ease of comfort I found myself easily detached from the pain of others.  Maybe you could say the season of rest was necessary or that a break from the stress and struggles was deserved.  I don’t know. 

I read this article back in August and it woke me up a bit, like a pinch of reality.  It still is a timely read.  I’m not physically far away from the troubles now, but that doesn't necessarily make me closer.  The challenge is to continue to engage in the pain, take a step out of comfort, and try to be part of a solution.  

http://imeslebanon.wordpress.com/2013/08/08/is-there-a-limit-to-hospitality/

Opportunity Call

For a long time I communicated my energies in the Middle East in problem-centric way.  I’d articulate my efforts with problem terms like ‘poverty,’ ‘injustices,’ or ‘darkness.’  It wasn't the whole story, but it was a big part of the story I was thinking about and I wanted to do something about.  So I saw myself as responding to problems, and I’d articulate it with words like ‘addressing,’ ‘restoring,’ ‘transforming,’ and ‘healing.’  None of this is wrong.  Language is limited and the words we use rarely are sufficient for capturing who we are and what we do.  Even so, language does have value and it can reveal the kind of approach we take.

Lately I’ve been challenged to be careful about how I focus on problems.  We should never fully dismiss problems, for we live in a fallen world and part of living is dealing with problems.  However, we can choose to emphasize the opportunities.  Just as problems are part of the story (one could say especially so in the Middle East these days) so are opportunities.  This is more than just self-help or warm fuzzy feelings.  This is about acknowledging that God is God and hope is hope.

In the process of trying to foster a sustainable, hope-driven attitude about what I do I’ve come to celebrate the opportunities that God is opening all around.  We can say children come to Dar El Awlad because of problems, or we can say children come to Dar El Awlad because of opportunities.  Ultimately both are correct and we say both, but I’ve found that when I emphasize the latter I’m compelled to believe in a hope that there is something bigger going on.  There is something that I may only see in glimpses, but something wonderful indeed.  

So I do not want to answer the call of a problem (because frankly, I don’t like problems) but rather answer a call to an opportunity.  With God in heaven and the work of the Cross in the bank, there is always, absolutely ALWAYS, an opportunity for hope.