"A Time for Every Purpose Under Heaven"

"To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven..." -Ecclesiastes 3:1

 

Life is never as clear cut and simple as we would like it to be; there are always tough choices to make and disappointments to be had, there are always goodbyes to be said, and time sometimes flies by too quickly and other periods drag too slowly. Yet the beauty of life can be found: in the moments of those important choices we make; in the hope we show through our disappointments; in our willingness to open ourselves up to future goodbyes; and in our ability to cherish the time we have, minutes or years.

In the past couple of years, I’ve learned a lot about living in and valuing the time that I am given. It’s never easy when your heart is divided (in my case between two separate countries) because it is always yearning for what you don’t have, but instead you can choose to focus your heart fully on what you do have. In doing so you will find that what you have is always better because it is made for you at that moment. At least this is what I have found to be true. When I am here in Uganda, I dearly miss those at home, and when I am home, I dearly miss those in Uganda.

With June arriving my time left seems so short and my departure already upon me. And that means it’s almost time for me to say goodbye to all that I so deeply love. I know that it is time for me to go home and finish school, and I am excited to do so, but I know that it is going to be incredibly hard to leave the life that I’ve been living here in Africa. It’s hard to imagine just picking up and leaving after working so hard to build a life here with people that I genuinely care about, and it’s hard to visualize myself going home because I’ve grown since I left and I’m not the same person that I was.

Yet these are nothing in comparison to the anxiety I feel when I think about having to leave those that have become my children in the year that I’ve spent here. While it’s difficult being away from the children that I love back at home it’s made easier because I know they have families who love them and will take care of them. The same is not true for these children. And though I will be saying goodbye with every intention of returning, I am still leaving them. I think especially of the three that call me “Mama Shannon,” Nettie, Ziyada, and John. They think of me as their mother, but what mother parts from her children?
 

 

My dearest  Nettie (four years old) still avoids talking to anyone but me and her brothers, refuses to smile or laugh without first being held, and is unwilling to participate in anything without first being reassured. What will happen when I leave her, will she continue to blossom or will she retreat even deeper into herself? Who will be the one to visit her on Saturdays at boarding school, to bring her juice and biscuits, to sit and hold her, to show her that she has been remembered? Who will whisper into her ear, “I love you very much, Nettie?!” And when she in the village on holiday, who will make sure she has eaten and is alright? Nerima has started transforming from the broken, bitter, and lonely child that she was when I met her a year ago, and is becoming a beautiful, whole, tender, and loving girl whose future is open to all opportunities. My heart is already breaking when I think that the day is coming when I cannot see her, wrap her in my arms tightly, and protect her and calm her fears.

 

My sweet Ziyada is still just three years old and only just began school but already is so mature and wise beyond her years. I will have only known her for under six months when I go but she captured my heart that first day I met her. An orphaned child living with a relative and her many children, she was unable to go to school, and was without hope for her future. I am amazed by how quickly she has begun to pick up English and with how happy she is, for my sweet Ziyada is always smiling. This precious girl whose joy is contagious and hugs are to be treasured has changed her name to Ziyada Shannon because she says she wants everyone to know that she has a muzungu (white) mother who loves her very much. I don’t even know how to wrap my mind around the fact that God could use me in such a way that a three year old girl would want to forever be associated to me. My time with Ziyada is just beginning and already it’s ending, even if it’s only for a couple of years it will be far too long. I want to see her grow and more than that I want to be a continual part of her life. I want to be there as she celebrates each day and every year of her life, and so knowing that I will miss the next few weighs so heavily on my heart.

 

My precious John Trevor is eleven years old and has such faith in God that it rivals anyone I’ve ever met. He is a boy who has nothing in the world’s eyes and who would be pitted by most people, yet he has what we all long for and really matters, a deep unconditional trust in God. I first met John when I was teaching English in his class at the school New Brainstorm. He caught my eye not because he was the only one who knew every answer *which he did) but because of the deep respect and eagerness to serve that he showed me. I have never known an eleven year old boy whose behavior could only be described as a child of Christ. In fact he constantly is an example to me of how we are all meant to live our lives. But I remember the day that God laid John on my heart and I knew that I was meant to be a part of his life, I came to his school one day and he gave me a letter in which he thanked me for bringing cookies to the previous class, his words were, “My dearest teacher, I wanted to thank you for bring food to class last time, because of you I did not go hungry that day. Most days I do not have food because I am alone and have no parents but that is alright because God brought you to me so that I would not be hungry. May I call you mother? I have no mother and you are like my mother because you care for me and feed me.  I want to be your son. May God bless you because you have loved me.” I cried reading his letter. I had done nothing but bring some cookies and popcorn to class as a celebration for my students hard work, and yet without my knowing it had meant something so deep to this young boy who was used to going to school without food all day. I know that even his faith was being tested around this time and somehow the simple act of me giving him a cookie was God encouraging and speaking to him. I don’t know why God choose me to be the one who could bless this child but I do know that He loves John very dearly and would use anyone and everyone to let him know. My John who loves to play soccer, has a beautiful touching voice, who will spend his holiday drawing twenty seven pictures for me, and whose smile melts my heart every time. My dear John calls me “Mama” and doesn’t want me to ever leave, but I must. I can’t imagine when I can longer visit him, when I can’t bring him food, or write him a letter. When I won’t see his whole face light up at the smallest things and see his great kindness towards others. How hard it will be to say goodbye to my precious son.

So you see, saying goodbye will not be easy and leaving will be even harder, for my heart has found a home with these children. But I know without a doubt that I was not the first to love them and that God’s love for them will always be greater than my own. That though I may not be the one to hold them, provide for them, and show them that they are loved, God will. In fact, He will do so in ways that I cannot even imagine and that will means so much more to them than anything that I could ever do for them would. He will be the one whispering to them; not to give up, that they are loved, and that He will never leave them. He will hold them tightly and calm their fears, He will celebrate each and every moment of their lives with them, and He will be their Father.

He is my Father too, and so I know that cares for me and my heart as well and will care for them enough for both of us. I entrust them into His capable hands, for I know that I will also be close to Him, looking to Him for strength and courage to face each morning without them.

L'absence diminue les médiocres passions, et augmente les grandes, comme le vent éteint les bougies et allume le feu.

Absence extinguishes the minor passions and increases the great ones, as the wind blows out a candle and fans a fire.                                                                     

-Francois Duc de la Rochefoucauld