This is a long post, but please read it.
One of the great struggles of living surrounded by poverty is that I tend to get a bit hardened and even cynical about the plight of those around me. Someone comes to ask for help to buy medicines – but what do they really want to use the money for? Or what did they already spend the money on that they don’t really need? Or how much or their own money do they have set aside that they aren’t willing to dip into? Or …
You get the picture. Pretty nasty, huh? We missionaries aren’t always all we’re cracked up to be.
As often as not, my questions are legitimate. How can I sift out the truly needy from the opportunists?
I can’t. And realizing that gives me a lot of peace of mind. It’s not my job. My job is to respond with as much compassion and wisdom as I can as each need presents itself.
Thursday I was taking this couple – Nkoli and Lydia (those are their real names and they won’t mind you praying for them by name) to the capital city of Lomé, so Lydia could see the doctor, and start taking antiretroviral drugs. Yes, they both have AIDS. They also have a nine month old daughter. As we were driving down to Lomé, we came across a most disturbing sight – a half-naked body lying in the road. Someone had cut branches and left them around the body so that no one would run over it. It appeared to be the body of one of the many wandering “crazy” people who have no where to go, or at least no where they want to go. The person was probably the victim of a hit and run during the night. We pulled over, but about that time another car drove up and a policeman got out. There was nothing we could do, so we drove on.
A few minutes down the road, Nkoli remarked that seeing that body reminded him how blessed he was. He said that he had not eaten that morning, but at least he wasn’t like that person. Wow. I asked if there was any food in the house. There wasn’t. We pulled over immediately and I bought them each a plate of beans from a woman who was selling out of a pot on the side of the road. That cost me all of twenty-five cents that they did not have to their name.
When we got to the doctor, I was expecting to wait a couple of hours, like we had the last time I was there. Instead, we saw the doctor very quickly. He had seen both Nkoli and Lydia before. He wasn’t happy. Against his advice, Lydia had gotten pregnant, had not taken proper precautions for the delivery, and was nursing. She was malnourished, which wasn’t good for her or the baby. I explained to the doctor what I knew about their situation. He told me that there were organizations that could help. I had to pump him a little to get specifics, but he made a call on his cell phone and told me about two places. I ended up taking Nkoli and Lydia to a place called “Espoir Vie” (Hope Life).
Espoir Vie is a private non-governmental organization that does offer hope and life. We were warmly welcomed. Nkoli and Lydia were offered counseling, almost-free doctor’s consultations, medicines for less than half of the already subsidized price, and enriched flour to make more nutritious food for their baby. They even fed them lunch. What a great place! The problem is that it is about a 2 hour taxi ride from their home to get there. And, even at half-price, the medicines would cost $10 per month. If you compare Togolese to American minimum wages, that’s the equivalent of about $150. And this is for a couple who doesn’t earn anywhere near even a Togolese minimum wage.
I guess my point here is that, even with foreign assistance, we’re still not talking about a level playing field. How dare I or any of us grow calloused to the needy?
Fortunately, there’s a lot being done right now to raise awareness and to pressure the governments of this world to honor the commitments they have made to the poor. You see, just because a government announces that they are going to give $X million for AIDS research, or education, or tsunami relief, doesn’t mean the money actually gets spent. When the cameras go off, commitments are easily forgotten.
A bunch of rock and movie stars are trying to change that. It should be the church, and maybe the church is doing some things, but we can’t focus public attention the way these folks can. They are in the spotlight, and they are taking advantage of that to turn to spotlight on the world’s poor. The Live8 concerts and the One campaign are part of this effort. But these folks have to be able to show the world’s leaders that they have gotten the world’s attention.
That’s where you come in. Sign the petitions on the One website – both the ONE declaration and the letter to President Bush. Order a pack of white wrist bands to symbolize your concern for global justice, especially for the poor.
Although I signed up several days ago, I’ve been a bit hesitant to encourage other people to; I guess it’s my native skepticism about “causes.” But I’ve learned that such faith leaders as John Stott, Billy Graham, Rick Warren, and yes, even Mike Cope, have given their endorsement, so that makes me think that it’s OK for you, too.
Oh, I remain skeptical. But not about the poor and their motives. My ever growing awareness of human fallen-ness (and that includes me!) reminds me that we will have the poor with us always, that the “Campaign to Make Poverty History” cannot succeed in an ultimate sense. It’s not up to me to shape history – a much larger hand is guiding that. But it is up to me to “think globally” (that’s what the ONE campaign is about) and to “act locally” (that’s where Nkoli and Lydia come in), and to demonstrate the same love for the poor that their Creator has for them.
Provided by 
