When we last left our heroes...
Okay, now for what I had waited to write about: the rural clinic. This one’s probably more spiritual in tint/reflection, and I praise God for the experience. Also note that while I'm posting these blogs after my time in Bangladesh, they were written in Bangladesh during a period of time when I had no internet access.
I still cannot for the life of me pronounce the name of the clinic, but what I know is that it was 20 km from LAMB, and I clung for dear life to the back of the hospital chaplain whose motorcycle escorted us past all form of oncoming vangari (think a bicycle and a cart had a baby), car, and dump trucks, which would take up 90% of the road. When we got there, I met with the health workers, and we chatted a bit.
Side note that requires a line break: Bangladeshis will ask you a series of questions when they meet you. No matter where you are. I got asked some of these as I was riding on the back of a vangari by a motorcyclist. These are the five most common in my experience (all are asked in one sitting):
1. What is your name? (easy enough)
2. Where are you from? (also easy)
3. What do you do? (difficult in my context, as I am a university student, and I want to practice medicine someday… but to them, that means I’m a medical student)
4. Do you have any brothers or sisters? (fairly easy, get to talk about my two siblings some)
And finally, 5. Are you married? (slightly awkward, but fairly easy [no, I'm not]… unless they know you have a girlfriend, in which case it’s “when are you getting married?”)
Anyways, back to the clinic. I took a tour of the facilities and observed how their system worked. The place was mainly used by pregnant mothers, and care was given before and after birth by the staff. Education was also supplied concerning nutrition for the babies to assure their health. What was beautiful about the time was that I was able to pray with some of the staff for a Muslim woman in the next room giving birth both spiritually and physically. Tracts hung in the doorway, though patients are not forced to receive them. They are cared for, no matter their status economically or spiritually.
As a Christian, I am learning that Christ calls us toward a ministry of reconciliation of all things to Himself. So what does that look like? Spiritually is undoubtedly most important, resurrection of the heart, and assurance of eternity. However, God also calls us to minister to the physical, the economic, the environmental needs of our world… beyond the self, to communities and nations. Acting as catalysts for Kingdom-minded thinking in all that we do, how we treat each other and operate as people. The church should demonstrate this day by day within its walls. But outside those walls, we must demonstrate our identity in how we care for all things. Thus, even though this woman has yet to know the salvation of Christ, Jesus is still being demonstrated to her through the care she is given at the clinic. Further, a short distance from the clinic I met with women who were a part of a savings and deposit plan which they ran themselves, a community fund which people paid into and could take out loans as necessary, e.g., when natural disaster strike, when school fees need paid, when the working family member gets injured. I was incredibly excited to see this community initiative and organization, as such had been suggested in When Helping Hurts. Again, these women were all Muslim, but the chaplain I was with told me how the body of Christ was supporting such initiative in these communities, and he hopes to share the gospel with them in the near future.
To me, this is Christ: Savior of the world. In all its dimensions. We know we cannot completely fulfill this task until His return. But we will labor with all the strength we have to be His Kingdom people where, and so point all to the Light of His Countenance.
Peace to you all in Christ,
MJW
Okay, now for what I had waited to write about: the rural clinic. This one’s probably more spiritual in tint/reflection, and I praise God for the experience. Also note that while I'm posting these blogs after my time in Bangladesh, they were written in Bangladesh during a period of time when I had no internet access.
I still cannot for the life of me pronounce the name of the clinic, but what I know is that it was 20 km from LAMB, and I clung for dear life to the back of the hospital chaplain whose motorcycle escorted us past all form of oncoming vangari (think a bicycle and a cart had a baby), car, and dump trucks, which would take up 90% of the road. When we got there, I met with the health workers, and we chatted a bit.
Side note that requires a line break: Bangladeshis will ask you a series of questions when they meet you. No matter where you are. I got asked some of these as I was riding on the back of a vangari by a motorcyclist. These are the five most common in my experience (all are asked in one sitting):
1. What is your name? (easy enough)
2. Where are you from? (also easy)
3. What do you do? (difficult in my context, as I am a university student, and I want to practice medicine someday… but to them, that means I’m a medical student)
4. Do you have any brothers or sisters? (fairly easy, get to talk about my two siblings some)
And finally, 5. Are you married? (slightly awkward, but fairly easy [no, I'm not]… unless they know you have a girlfriend, in which case it’s “when are you getting married?”)
Anyways, back to the clinic. I took a tour of the facilities and observed how their system worked. The place was mainly used by pregnant mothers, and care was given before and after birth by the staff. Education was also supplied concerning nutrition for the babies to assure their health. What was beautiful about the time was that I was able to pray with some of the staff for a Muslim woman in the next room giving birth both spiritually and physically. Tracts hung in the doorway, though patients are not forced to receive them. They are cared for, no matter their status economically or spiritually.
As a Christian, I am learning that Christ calls us toward a ministry of reconciliation of all things to Himself. So what does that look like? Spiritually is undoubtedly most important, resurrection of the heart, and assurance of eternity. However, God also calls us to minister to the physical, the economic, the environmental needs of our world… beyond the self, to communities and nations. Acting as catalysts for Kingdom-minded thinking in all that we do, how we treat each other and operate as people. The church should demonstrate this day by day within its walls. But outside those walls, we must demonstrate our identity in how we care for all things. Thus, even though this woman has yet to know the salvation of Christ, Jesus is still being demonstrated to her through the care she is given at the clinic. Further, a short distance from the clinic I met with women who were a part of a savings and deposit plan which they ran themselves, a community fund which people paid into and could take out loans as necessary, e.g., when natural disaster strike, when school fees need paid, when the working family member gets injured. I was incredibly excited to see this community initiative and organization, as such had been suggested in When Helping Hurts. Again, these women were all Muslim, but the chaplain I was with told me how the body of Christ was supporting such initiative in these communities, and he hopes to share the gospel with them in the near future.
To me, this is Christ: Savior of the world. In all its dimensions. We know we cannot completely fulfill this task until His return. But we will labor with all the strength we have to be His Kingdom people where, and so point all to the Light of His Countenance.
Peace to you all in Christ,
MJW
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