Skip to main content

Jungle Non Sky Team Members

Imagine the small bush plane landing on the jungle grass airstrip.  Upon landing there are so many things on the pilots mind.  Passengers getting off and all their things.  New passengers jostling for a ticket on.  Limited seats.  Limited weight.  Limited fuel.  Fuel awareness.  Weather awareness.  Time awareness. I’m guessing that there are many more things on a pilots mind.  These are just the obvious things.  On grass airstrips there are no secretaries taking money and selling tickets.  There is no hanger help, fueling the plane or loading the items or calculating the weight.  Nope.  In the middle of the bush, it is up to one man. The pilot.
That is how Simpson’s mother slid onto the plane with her baby.  Oh her presence was noted, but there was too much going on for it all to be processed what her intentions were.  And normally this is not the pilots job, to ask flying sky team members and non members…..”Why, are you flying today?”
It’s not the first time Simpson’s mom has flown here to Sentani.  Approximately a year ago, she and her severely malnourished son were flown out of their village.  Simpson spent many days in the hospital with a feeding tube and then he and his mommy spent many months with Kathleen.  Patiently Kathleen spent many hours teaching the Mommy how to care for Simpson.  Whom we discovered had many complications including mostly blind, poor startle reflex, and sadly undiagnosed brain issues.
So now a full year later,  Simpson and Mommy have returned.  The mom begins to tell her story after landing here and asking to stay with Kathleen again.  The people in her village believe that Satan is in her child. They are filled with animistic beliefs.  They are ready to kill him.  They are angry with her and her husband for how much attention and distraction this child is causing, as the burden of their other children is beginning to affect the entire village.  Simpson’s mommy found a simple solution.  Get on a plane and fly away.  It wasn’t a bad thought really.  I’ll admit that occasionally I am tempted by the same thought.
Yet, it puts us in a real ethical dilemma. Here is a Mom who has several other dependent children and a husband, who is being persecuted because of her handicap child.  To return her to that village is to return her to further persecution.  To keep her here, takes her away from caring for her children and husband.  And there is no permanent housing for her here.  It has been discussed to move the whole family to another village, where there is more medical and missionary support.   Unfortunately, this is not a simple solution as the language changes and who is to say the new village will accept this family?
Sometimes life gets complicated and difficult.  We need wisdom.  We need prayer, as we navigate challenging situations without child support systems and secretaries in the middle of jungle airstrips.  
521B2877-2B33-4A84-9005-66348E2A2173IMG_0361

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Change Never Happens Fast, Except Today it Did

Today (Wednesday, Nov. 1),  Darron and Gary were leaving on an afternoon flight to the Philippines.  The nicer of our two cars had just been picked up from the repair shop ( it was an alternator this time).  They are at that stage.  Always, something falling apart.  With the mission mobile, we can’t complain.  It is 21 years old!!!!  Darron just popped down to the hanger to fill up the tires with air and I heard him pip the horn at the gate, to indicate he was read to go to the airport.  Yet, he had a different message.  The tire needed repaired…..or more probably replaced. Groan.  There is ONE thing, I disdain as a woman and that is handling car problems.  It’s hard enough to do it in your home country and a language you are fluent in.  Try doing it in a foreign country.  Also to me, it is a MANS world.  If you want to plop me in my discomfort zone, tell me I have to get the car fixed.So off we drive.  Air hissing out of the tire.  The good news, my husband is by my side.  The bad ne…

Anguished Hearts

Image after image flashes through my mind.  I see little but “growing bigger and stronger” two and half year old Azarya coming towards me on the gravel runway.  Wanting to give me a high five and nothing warms my heart more.  Knowing that this is the little boy who drank his way back to life with goats milk.  More images of all over campus this little boy waving at me and smiling shyly, running and playing like normal children should.  Every time I saw him, I rejoiced in the second chance that Jesus had given him.  More images of being with his Mommy and Daddy and their JOY and gratefulness in Ayarya’s strength and change as he transformed before their eyes from being severely malnourished to vibrant.  Ida, his Mommy, is my closest Papua friend, and I see so many images of her and I chatting and laughing together and enjoying her new fat little baby boy, now two months old.  Despite that Ida was still morning the unexpected loss of her father and still mourning the loss of her first c…

And Just Like That…..It Is Finished!

Eleven and a half years is a long time.  Yet I honestly thought there was still five years left.  Unexpectedly, the long days and the short years came to an abrupt halt.  The commitment, the daily grind, the need to be extremely focused and scheduled Monday through Friday, 7:30 until 3 was taken away.  Or maybe it was given away?
I was passionate about it, fully devoted and yet burned out.  Doing something that was not my natural gifting and yet for my children, like most mothers, I would do anything.  Home school.  The early years were simple and yet muddled with ABC’s and 123’s were more babies and diapers and feedings and distractions.  How did that little boy Aubrey, learn so well?  Now he is months away from graduating and launching back into his passport culture.  His grade point average, is higher than a 4.0.  He had to teach me how that makes sense.  His younger brother Andrew, who stands taller than us all, also learned something in between re learning phonics in 3rd grade an…