Lebanon #10: Facing the Unfamiliar
It came to me this morning after a good night’s sleep: how to tie together the morning and the afternoon of Friday, and I have come up with a new parable.
The kingdom of God is like inside kittens on the fresh grass...let those with ears hear.
We spent the latter half of the day up in the mountains at Hamlin Hospital, a care facility and rehab center that began life over 100 years ago as a hospital to treat patients with tuberculosis. It is run by Sana Koreh, who bears the legacy of the woman who founded this place, Dr. Mary Eddy, and the woman who trained Sana as a nurse during the Lebanese war (1975-1990), Mrs. Winnie Nucho. The parable is about all three of these women who have imbued Hamlin with a spirit that exudes from the walls.
But the cats, you ask... Sitting on the peaceful grounds of this place, Sana brings out a box of kittens born just two months ago inside the center. Their mom would not stay in the outside place Sana prepared for her but insisted on having her babies in the hallway outside Sana’s office. These kittens are inside cats. But Sana brought them outside for us, and each, in turn, came out of the box. They walked on the soft grass like it was hot lava. Lifting each foot high before stepping forward with the next, they were so unsure of what they had been placed into. It was, to say the least, an abrupt transition, but as time moved on, they began running and wrestling and leaping from chairs to tables. They adjusted. They learned. And their mother was always near.
Moving from the inside to the outside is like moving from pre-pandemic to post-pandemic. It is a very different terrain and they have learned through the storm to adjust to what has come after. Earlier this winter, 80% of the staff (about 30) and 80% of the residents (about 40) came down with COVID. As a nurse would need to be off for seven days, nursing aides became nurses. As the dominoes continued falling, kitchen staff became caregivers, cleaning staff became experts in COVID hygiene, and all gained skills and confidence in the process, led by Sana who has seen her staff in a whole new way.
Up in the mountains where no supplies were to be found easily, oxygen tanks were summoned by taxis, and precious medicines were divided and shared with the community. New ways of using the resources of land around the center are being developed, like expanding their organic garden spaces to raise chickens or goats and to not only keep feeding their patients quality foods but to share it around the community.
God has called them outside to a new thing...like those kittens.
The parable works for our morning visit as well, where we spent time with the children of the Grow Early Childhood Development Center, a ministry of The Philemon Project. After being entranced by the welcoming committee of 3-year olds riding their bikes, we spent time with three women who are the beating hearts of this place: Nairy who manages, Mireille who directs, and Debby who oversees. This is a unique preschool serving the children of domestic workers, most of who come from other countries like Ethiopia, who work long hours and cannot afford quality childcare. Here, their children are taught with active learning processes, using their imaginations and developing critical thinking skills. They are literally “coloring outside the lines,” given the tools to create what their minds see, and not being locked into boundaries placed before them.
Their moving from inside to outside revolves around the Beirut port blast of August 4. Being another ministry in the line of the blast, there was much damage to their facility, which is housed on the grounds of an Armenian Orthodox elderly home. (Can you imagine the life and vitality 40 toddlers give to their neighbors?!) The place was pretty amazing before, but now it virtually glows with new windows, new doors, new life. They had a chance to color outside the lines as they made something new out of something laid low.
The spirit of this place was shared by testimony from Nairy from August 4. She had gone to the mall to buy things for the center, like clothing for the children. Standing in front of the elevator she heard an unwelcome sound, an explosion. Coming from Syria, she expected more but reassured herself that she was not in Syria, so she stepped into the elevator when it opened. The doors closed behind her, and the much larger second blast came. The lights went out. The elevator shook. And she started praying. The doors opened onto a new landscape. Shattered glass was everywhere and dust filled the air. Sometimes the new grass isn’t so green, but God was with her in prayer, giving her courage to move out.
The next day, Nairy was back at the center to assess the damage, and the clean-up and renewal began.
This is how ministry is being approached by all our partners. It is a new day in Lebanon, and the grass is not always green. These are difficult circumstances, but they have cleaned up the glass, and are taking new steps. Some are leaping and wrestling, at different speeds, but the direction is forward. They are moving with imagination. They are learning new ways and new skills. And the Father of all is always near, for he does not slumber or sleep, and has promised to be with them.
by Julie Burgess, for the team