Sophia
I recently returned from Doro, where the difficulty not only for the mission staff but much more for the Sudanese themselves, came home to me. From my diary:
“In the predawn darkness this morning I carried Wisdom to her final resting place. Her Mabaan parents had given her the name Sophia, and she’d impressed me in our few visits, sick as she was, by her strength of character. How appropriate that her name was Sophia, the Greek word for ‘Wisdom’.
Sophia’s heart was worn out, attacked by some undetermined devilry which, in the span of just hours, transported her from sweet pre-teen glances right into eternity.
It was all too quick for her sister: When we drove into the little village in Bankuman the little girl, suddenly awake, added two and two together quickly and spotting the shrouded body in the back of the Toyota pickup, launched into ferocious wailing and violent casting about. Even the barking Egyptian dogs milling in and out of the darkness, seemed at a loss to know what to do.
A dozen older women hoisted the rough wooden bed frame, wound tightly with string on which the body lay. They sidestepped the smoldering coals of the village fire and, near the main tukul hut, they set the bed carefully down. Gathering around, they uncovered the lifeless, innocent, adolescent face and, weeping and touching her cheeks, they called her name, wailing Mabaan lamentations. It was a sad, poignant, gut-wrenching scene, dimly lit by a few lamps in the darkness. The village fires were smoldering.
Sophia’s mother was one of the few without arms flung up into the darkness. As she cried out, remonstrating in the eerie light, she cupped her hands repeatedly under her breasts as if to say, “Oh, my daughter Sophia! You whom I nursed!! Why have you left me? Where have you gone? Oh, Daughter of my bosom!”
A small boy stood numbly in front of me, taking in the scene. Men appeared as well, now, out of the darkness, and they likewise seemed inept, passive onlookers upon this scene of unrestrained anguish.
Sophia. 12 years old. Just two years shy of adulthood and marriage in Mabaan. A girl with viral cardiomyopathy, heart failure. But so patient, long-suffering, quiet. “Why, O Lord?” we ourselves cry out. And David helps us: “Incline Your ear, O Lord, and answer me, for I am afflicted and needy"(Ps 86:1); yet in his pain he remembers God’s goodness: “You O Lord, are God merciful and gracious, abundant in lovingkindness…”(86:15).
For girls like Sophia, we came to Sudan. For little boys standing in the darkness. For mothers and fathers without hope. For Christ Himself, “in whom are hidden all the treasures of Wisdom and knowledge” (Col 2:3).
Thankfully, every day is not full of such pain; there is much encouragement.
Consider this account from missionary nurse Vicki Beattie:
‘Jacob Nyale is a 12 year old boy who suffers from Leprosy. His family noticed last year that he had a skin rash, but he lived far from Doro among the Nuer people, 100 miles to the South. Jacob came all the way to Mabaan County, hoping for treatment. It was Jacob’s uncle who brought him to Doro PHCC in September, where he was found to have an advanced case of leprosy with terrible nerve damage. He has no feeling in his hands and one finger is already paralyzed and ‘claw-like’. In all my years of leprosy work in Zambia I only saw a couple of children with skin problems related to leprosy but never such severe nerve damage. Jacob’s feet seem okay and he plays soccer with the other children. His family and neighbors attend a small church. Jacob is in first grade, taught by a neighbor. (Addendum: By God’s grace, Dr. Rob successfully met with the Sudan Ministry of Health in Juba in September and agreement was reached: SIM is now a leprosy treatment center in Upper Nile State. The one-year course of curative medication has already been provided for Jacob, and he is on long road to recovery).’
Sarah Benson adds: “The clinic work is continuing to grow day by day. During the months of Oct-Dec ’08 we were seeing an average of 30-40 patients per day. Now the average is 80-90 and we often surpass 100 patients in a day. We see many very sick patients especially children. Please pray for us as we see these patients with our Community Health Worker staff. May the Lord give us wisdom and boldness sharing the gospel in the midst of sickness and death.”
The commitment of the Doro Health Team is compassionate Christ-centered medical care; training for community health workers; village health care and community development; treatment for malnutrition, tuberculosis and leprosy; evangelism and discipleship to strengthen the Church. This is the SIM Health strategy in S. Sudan.
“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live! And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?” John 11:25-6 (NKJV)
“In the predawn darkness this morning I carried Wisdom to her final resting place. Her Mabaan parents had given her the name Sophia, and she’d impressed me in our few visits, sick as she was, by her strength of character. How appropriate that her name was Sophia, the Greek word for ‘Wisdom’.
Sophia’s heart was worn out, attacked by some undetermined devilry which, in the span of just hours, transported her from sweet pre-teen glances right into eternity.
It was all too quick for her sister: When we drove into the little village in Bankuman the little girl, suddenly awake, added two and two together quickly and spotting the shrouded body in the back of the Toyota pickup, launched into ferocious wailing and violent casting about. Even the barking Egyptian dogs milling in and out of the darkness, seemed at a loss to know what to do.
A dozen older women hoisted the rough wooden bed frame, wound tightly with string on which the body lay. They sidestepped the smoldering coals of the village fire and, near the main tukul hut, they set the bed carefully down. Gathering around, they uncovered the lifeless, innocent, adolescent face and, weeping and touching her cheeks, they called her name, wailing Mabaan lamentations. It was a sad, poignant, gut-wrenching scene, dimly lit by a few lamps in the darkness. The village fires were smoldering.
Sophia’s mother was one of the few without arms flung up into the darkness. As she cried out, remonstrating in the eerie light, she cupped her hands repeatedly under her breasts as if to say, “Oh, my daughter Sophia! You whom I nursed!! Why have you left me? Where have you gone? Oh, Daughter of my bosom!”
A small boy stood numbly in front of me, taking in the scene. Men appeared as well, now, out of the darkness, and they likewise seemed inept, passive onlookers upon this scene of unrestrained anguish.
Sophia. 12 years old. Just two years shy of adulthood and marriage in Mabaan. A girl with viral cardiomyopathy, heart failure. But so patient, long-suffering, quiet. “Why, O Lord?” we ourselves cry out. And David helps us: “Incline Your ear, O Lord, and answer me, for I am afflicted and needy"(Ps 86:1); yet in his pain he remembers God’s goodness: “You O Lord, are God merciful and gracious, abundant in lovingkindness…”(86:15).
For girls like Sophia, we came to Sudan. For little boys standing in the darkness. For mothers and fathers without hope. For Christ Himself, “in whom are hidden all the treasures of Wisdom and knowledge” (Col 2:3).
Thankfully, every day is not full of such pain; there is much encouragement.
Consider this account from missionary nurse Vicki Beattie:
‘Jacob Nyale is a 12 year old boy who suffers from Leprosy. His family noticed last year that he had a skin rash, but he lived far from Doro among the Nuer people, 100 miles to the South. Jacob came all the way to Mabaan County, hoping for treatment. It was Jacob’s uncle who brought him to Doro PHCC in September, where he was found to have an advanced case of leprosy with terrible nerve damage. He has no feeling in his hands and one finger is already paralyzed and ‘claw-like’. In all my years of leprosy work in Zambia I only saw a couple of children with skin problems related to leprosy but never such severe nerve damage. Jacob’s feet seem okay and he plays soccer with the other children. His family and neighbors attend a small church. Jacob is in first grade, taught by a neighbor. (Addendum: By God’s grace, Dr. Rob successfully met with the Sudan Ministry of Health in Juba in September and agreement was reached: SIM is now a leprosy treatment center in Upper Nile State. The one-year course of curative medication has already been provided for Jacob, and he is on long road to recovery).’
Sarah Benson adds: “The clinic work is continuing to grow day by day. During the months of Oct-Dec ’08 we were seeing an average of 30-40 patients per day. Now the average is 80-90 and we often surpass 100 patients in a day. We see many very sick patients especially children. Please pray for us as we see these patients with our Community Health Worker staff. May the Lord give us wisdom and boldness sharing the gospel in the midst of sickness and death.”
The commitment of the Doro Health Team is compassionate Christ-centered medical care; training for community health workers; village health care and community development; treatment for malnutrition, tuberculosis and leprosy; evangelism and discipleship to strengthen the Church. This is the SIM Health strategy in S. Sudan.
“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live! And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?” John 11:25-6 (NKJV)
posted by Congdons in S. Sudan at 11:37 AM
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