Today, I got the most gut-wrenching letter from my sponsor child. She told me the story of how her father became disabled. I had asked her in my previous letter because she mentioned that her father is disabled.
(Warning, this is not for the queasy.)
Long story short, he was working as a logger for a big company when he got attacked by a terrorist/guerilla group. Him, along with all the other corpses, were found four days after the attack. They were working at a remote place. When he was found, they thought he was dead. All the others were dead. He had kept himself alive by drinking the blood pouring out of the dead bodies.
He was treated for his wounds but he remains disabled by the gun shots. He self medicates with alcohol.
I read a book recently, a novel, that talks about cannibalism. I didn’t know what to do with the information. I think, somehow, it prepared me to read this information from my sponsor child’s letter. How strange that a similar scene would unfold before me as a real story.
I had an urge to send a family gift today, before I got the letter, because I know her mother suffers from asthma. I asked for the gift to be spend for mom’s medication and school supplies. It was strange to get her letter, and to hear her mention a recent severe attack that her mom had. I hope the money gets to her in time before another severe attack. My son has mild asthma. It’s a helpless feeling, to know that a human being, your beloved, is not able to get enough oxygen and struggling to breath.
God, let me be a light, in this dark world. Let me be an instrument of your hope.