Walking and Talking

THE HOT WATER BOTTLE – A True Story By Helen Roseveare, Medical Missionary to Africa.

One night, in Central Africa, I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all that we could do, she died leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a crying, two-year-old daughter.

We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive. We had no incubator. We had no electricity to run an incubator, and no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts.

A student-midwife went for the box we had for such babies and for the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly, in distress, to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst. Rubber perishes easily in tropical climates. “…and it is our last hot water bottle!” she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk; so, in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over a burst water bottle. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. All right,” I said, “Put the baby as near the fire as you safely can; sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm.”

The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with many of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle. The baby could so easily die if it got chilled. I also told them about the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died. During the prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt consciousness of our African children. “Please, God,” she prayed, “send us a water bottle. It’ll be no good tomorrow, God, the baby’ll be dead; so, please send it this afternoon.” While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of corollary, ” …And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she’ll know You really love her?” As often with children’s prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say, “Amen?” I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything: The Bible says so, but there are limits, aren’t there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator!

Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses’ training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time that I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the veranda, was a large twenty-two pound parcel! I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone; so, I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then, there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children began to look a little bored. Next, came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas – - that would make a nice batch of buns for the weekend. As I put my hand in again, I felt the…could it really be? I grasped it, and pulled it out. Yes, “A brand-new rubber, hot water bottle!” I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, “If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!” Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone: She had never doubted! Looking up at me, she asked, “Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she’ll know that Jesus really loves her?”

That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my former Sunday School class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God’s prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. One of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child — five months earlier in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it “That afternoon!” “And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear.” Isaiah 65:24

Helen Roseveare a doctor missionary from England to Zaire, Africa, told this as it had happened to her in Africa. She shared it in her testimony on a Wednesday night at Thomas Road Baptist Church.

Henry: I learned that this is the same Helen Roseveare who was assaulted and raped during the Simba uprising in the Congo. She is still alive today. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helen_Roseveare

I’ve been a Les Miserables fan for quite a while, and one of the reasons i enjoy the story and the music is the powerful and relatable depiction of grace and legalism represented in the lives of Valjean and Javert.

In a scene where, a released convict, Valjean steals silver from a bishop that takes him in for the night, Valjean is caught, but the Bishop lies to the guards and tells them that he gave Valjean the silver as a gift, this one act of grace, perhaps the first he’s know all his life, throws Valjean into a fury of self disgust and repentance:
I feel my shame inside me like a knife
He told me that I have a soul,
How does he know?
What spirit comes to move my life?
Is there another way to go?
…
I’ll escape now from the world
From the world of Jean Valjean
Jean Valjean is nothing now
Another story must begin!

Javert is the police inspector who has made it his life’s goal to hunt down Valjean because he thinks that men like Valjean and never change or be trusted. Yet, at the end of the play, in the midst of the turmoil of the French Revolution, Valjean is given a honest chance to kill Javert.  Yet, despite all the greif Javert has brought into his life, Valjean lets him go. The one act of grace throws Javert into a fury of confusion and hardness of heart:

And my thoughts fly apart
Can this man be believed?
Shall his sins be forgiven?
Shall his crimes be reprieved?

And must I now begin to doubt,
Who never doubted all these years?
My heart is stone and still it trembles
The world I have known is lost in shadow.
Is he from heaven or from hell?
And does he know
That granting me my life today
This man has killed me even so?

These two characters strike really close to home for me because these are the two forces at war with in me, one that is wooed and won by grace towards repentance and another that is hardened and confused by grace. And it brings me back to one of my favorite verses in all the bible:

“Do you suppose, O man—you who judge those who practice such things and yet do them yourself—that you will escape the judgment of God?  Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” Romans 2:3-4

During the past few week in the Genesis we’ve been looking at the Fall and Curse in chapters 2-3 of Genesis. Justin (my co-leader) and I knew we were in for a doozy before we even got started but the more I consider the realities of the Fall and the Curse I find myself starting straight into the awe-ful and sovereign will of a big God. I can’t speak for everyone in the study, but my heart’s been wrestling with the question: Lord, why did you knowingly allow Satan to enter into the garden, and give him the opportunity to tempt and deceive your precious children? I think this question is root cry of anyone who has ever asked why God allows evil in the world. I suspect different people struggle with this reality differently, but I’m sure we all do. I think of mom and dad fighting, pastors compromising, rape, genocide, and even just the daily meditations of my own head. My head is so weighty I can barely finished this post.

Paul really settles my soul when he says in Romans 8:

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. 19 For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. 20 For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope 21 that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. 22 For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. 23 And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. 24 For in this hope we were saved.

I really wish I didn’t have to groan inwardly. But I have to trust that this hope is steadfast and that Christ is enough for me, as imperfect and is my knowledge of him. And the amazing thing is that the times when I groan most painfully are also the times when Christ is the sweetest to my soul. Any thoughts, stories?

My mom was diagnosed with severe Anemia about 2 months ago. Oddly enough we were in China at the time. My aunt noticed my mom’s unsually pale lips and prompted her to go get a blood test. The results showed that her hemoglobin levels were 1/2 of what it should have been. This explained why she was tired all the time and experienced many near faintings. Apparently it had been like this for years. It was as if her body has been experiencing life at several thousand feet altitude with half the oxygen normal people get. I felt so bad. She upheld so many responsibilities at home and at work. And I had always just take her love and care for granted, thinking it was easy for her all the while it was so much harder because of her anemia.

When we got back to the states she went to get checked again. They not only confirmed the first diagnosis but also found out that her spleen was enlarge twice what it should be. Now we were really scared. They weren’t sure what the root cause was, and there was the possibility of having to remove the spleen.

She was pretty scared. But she said to me that when she sits down to really think about it all she’s not so much scared, just a bit lonely. She said to me, “Henry, don’t ever leave the Lord, he is so good to us, don’t ever leave the Lord.”

The last round of tests came back and, to our relief, indicated that her condition is not as bad as if could have been, and that she doesn’t need to get her spleen removed. Dave Smith reminded me that this really is an answer to prayer. I had asked CBS to pray for her, and we did, and God answered. Praise God.

There are worst sins aren’t there? Surely hating, lying, sexual sins are much more serious than watching a TV show now and then, or watching a movie with some friends. I want to urge you to be very discerning because the world is deceptive and so are our hearts.

God has stories. His stories are good, provocative, transforming, full of hope. It’s a story about him. They tell us about how God meant the world for joy and for glory, how men fell, how He sent his son to pay the price, to win his bride. It’s a story about how our lives are not our own, how we have been bought with a price and how we ought to live to show that he is best, how he really is the answer to our every hope and desire. These stories are true.

The world has stories. These stories are mostly about us. They show us how we can live quite happily without the slightest notion of God. Childhood innocence, coming of age, friendship, young love, making it in the world, making it through the rough times, enjoying the golden years. They paint for us a world where our lives are our own and where people are not appoint once to die, and then to face judgment, a world where you are your own savior. They don’t come at you with arguments against God. They simply assume him to be trivial, then sugar coat it with fun, beauty and excitement. These stories are lies. These stories show us how to live without God. These stories kill us.

Friends!

“Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever.”

We like to think that we are mature to enough to tell fact from fiction, enjoy a good story yet still maintain all our senses. Solomon tried to do that, even he with all his wisdom did not fair so well. We are what we by constant exposure take store into our hearts.  And out of what is stored in the heart that our mouths speaks and our mind think.

Rather:

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

And if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than with two hands to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire.  And if your foot causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life lame than with two feet to be thrown into hell.  And if your eye causes you to sin, tear it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than with two eyes to be thrown into hell, ‘where their worm does not die and the fire is not quenched.’

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. 8For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. 9And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.

by John Newton

In evil long I took delight
Unawed by shame or fear;
Till a new object struck my sight
And stopped my wild career.
I saw one hanging on a tree
In agonies and blood;
Who fixed his languid eyes on me
As near his cross I stood.
Sure never till my latest breath
Can I forget that look;
It seemed to charge me with his death
Though not a word he spoke.
My conscience felt and owned the guilt
And plunged me in despair;
I saw my sins his blood had spilt
And helped to nail him there.
Alas, I knew now what I did
But now my tears are vain;
Where shall my trembling soul be hid?
For I the Lord have slain.
A second look he gave which said
“I freely all forgive;
This blood is for thy ransom paid
I died that thou mayest live.”
Thus while his death my sin displays
In all its blackest hue;
Such is the mystery of grace,
It seals my pardon too.
With pleasing grief and mournful joy
My spirit now is filled;
That I should such a life destroy
Yet live by him I killed.

In 1 Corinthians 10:31 Paul says:

So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God

God’s been showing me that one of the biggest ways be do this is by a simple comparison. Let me explain

Eating: I primarily like asian food, dishes with alot of sauce and rice. On days when for some reason I have skipped breakfast and lunch, there are few things I look forward to more than a hot and fresh box of peace (the local chinese takeout..tomato and eggs anyone?) while sitting in front of my computer, checking email and writing blogs. At this moment the Spirit reminds me: Jesus is SO MUCH BETTER than this.

The Bathroom: The bathroom is a holy ground of common grace. The pleasure we derive from doing our business is very much a gift of God. I am so glad God made my body so that I gladly pass out waste. (I’ve met people who bodies did not have such a mechanism) Otherwise I would be very sick all the time. So after i let out a good one and sigh the sigh of deep relief I say to my self: this aint NOTHING compared to Jesus!

My Car: I have a car this year. It’s a blue Corolla ‘05. Nothing fancy, just a good solid automobile. I love driving it, I love driving other people with it. Sometimes, while I’m driving it, it makes me feel like a man. So when I’ve got the window down, the wind in my very short hair and the christian music blasting, I remind myself: Jesus IS better than this.

Friends: They are a gift. friendship cannot be demanded, forced or manipulated. Friends indeed at those people who know everything about you and still like you. There is grief in parting, joy in reunion, and understanding in day to day life. So as the Summer draws near and it’s so good to see friends for the first time in a long time, I recall that, yes, Jesus is even better than this.

Romance: David was very good friends with Jonathan. David even said that Jonathan’s love was better than that of a woman. That speaks to the depth of the friendship they had because the love of a woman (it’s not about sex) is really good. One day, God willing, when I have a girlfriend or wife I want to say: Jesus’ love is better than that of a woman.

We could do this forever. You get the idea. Jesus expressed this very truth himself. He said that whoever would want to be his disciple must hate his mother and father. He doesn’t mean for us to actually hate our parents. He wants us to love and honor them deeply, but to have our love and delight for Jesus be so much greater that the love for all the world looks like hate and utter disgust. God gave us all of our senses and gifts so that we can make good use of them is doing his work, but also in the end saying of them: Jesus is better than this and this thing is only good because of what I see of Christ in it

But, what if this isn’t true. What if we can’t honestly say that Jesus is better than all these things? We should take heart that he really is better. The only thing that needs to be done is to overcome our own blindness. Fortunately, that exactly what God wants to do in us.

Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

Mark 9:24

alright…I said it, no point in trying to humble about it. I have to admit, I think it’s pretty cool.

I’m working at National Institute for Standards and Technology (NIST) this Summer. It’s the same organization that Ronny worked for last Summer but a different location. I am working at the main NIST campus in Gaithersburg MD. Yes…this is where my home is (for now atleast). Part of the reasoning was that if I didn’t get in anywhere else for the Summer I’d just come home work at NIST. That reasoning played out well. I didn’t get in anywhere else.

To be honest, NIST wasn’t on my list of most prestigious places to work. After all it’s not even a DoD lab, but rather and Department of Commerce lab. They doing stuff to help people measure stuff better…how exciting can that be. Yet…have I not learned anything? When has the worth of any man’s life consisted in the prestige of things?

I’m working the Laser Cooling and Trapping Group, a part of the Atomic Physics Division of NIST. This group is in fact one of the leading labs in Condensed Matter Physics, specifically in Bose Einstein Condensates (BEC). BEC’s are a collection of atoms that have been cooled to such a low temperature that they become entirely wavelike in their behavior, to the extent that you can make matter waves much like you make light waves with lasers. They have these crazy cooling and trapping chambers and lasers coming in from all 6 directions. That is what Bill Philips, the head Principal Investigator got his Nobel prize for in 1997.

I am working directly for one of the other PI’s in the lab who does Bose Einstein Condensates as well a biological applications of Optical Trapping. If you know me then you’ll understand the battle that quickly ensued with in me. I’ve been pursing biophysics for the past two semesters now, but to be in a Nobel Winning group for Condensed Matter Physics…Whoa… What is God teaching me? Steadfastness. A physicists life does not consist in the coolness of his project, but in the steadfastness of his heart and mind. O that God would cause my faith to rise. I chose the Biophysics project.

It will involve studying membrane proteins using optical tweezers. I’ll leave it at that lest I get scooped.