Remembering Iwan

Vorig jaar, bijna een jaar geleden troffen we Iwan, een van onze vrienden van de straat, in een slechte toestand. Hij lag onder een soort van elkaar geknutseld plastic doek als afdakje langs de rand van het spoor op het randje van de dood.

Iwan langs het spoor

Gelukkig konden we Iwan verzorgen in een huis van vrienden. Zo had hij een dak boven zijn hoofd, een plek om te worden verzorgd en beter te worden. Vooral Lusi, mijn collega en vriendin, nam de verplegende taken op haar. TBC & Hiv waren de diagnose en zware klap voor Iwan. Gelukkig konden we hem vertellen van de Liefde van de Vader door Jezus en mocht ik getuige zijn van hoe Jezus het hart van deze jongen van de straat veranderde. Dat hij niet kon lezen of schrijven, maakte voor God niks uit, Hij gaf zelf in dromen en visioenen uitleg aan Iwan wat Hij had gedaan door zijn Zoon Jezus naar de wereld te sturen om de weg naar de Vader weer vrij te maken. Het was een indrukwekkende ervaring om mee te maken dat God zelf Iwan gaf wat hij zo hard nodig had. En zo mooi om dan gereedschap in Gods handen te zijn om te mogen bidden, te bemoedigen en naast iemand te staan in zijn proces.
Daarnaast hebben we samen gelachen en gehuild, samen momenten van het leven gedeeld. Ik weet nog goed, we zaten op de vloer te praten over onze families en ik vertelde dat ik mijn familie soms zo miste. Aan het einde van het gesprek gingen we bidden. Ik voor hem en hij voor mij. Ik zal nooit vergeten hoe Iwan voor me bad in al zijn puurheid en eenvoud van hart, sprak hij een gebed voor mij uit waarvan de tranen in mijn ogen sprongen. Niet van verdriet, maar omdat het eenvoudige gebed mijn ziel raakte en ik Gods aanwezigheid voelde. En dat er niets anders was dan de eenheid in Christus die alle cultuur, taal en alle andere barrières overbrugt.

Maar nu na een lange weg van vechten tegen Hiv heeft God de Vader Iwan Thuis geroepen op vrijdag 17 januari. Onze geliefde vriend is verlost van de strijd, de pijn en de moeiten van deze wereld en is nu in de hemel, waar het goed is. En zoals Lusi schreef: "For sure Jesus prepared a house for him and for sure he will meet the Father. May he rest in peace in Gods lap"

Remembering Iwan

Wil je meer weten over het initiatief in Jakarta, kijk dan eens op:

http://www.letsfollowjesus.com/

Live on the streets

Odor of sweat, unwashed bodies, urine, rats and cockroaches penetrates my nose as I make my way through small streets. I bend my knees while walking, so I will not hit my head against the low roofs that are sticking out. "Mister, mister" "bule" I hear around me. I simply greet and smile on the Indonesian way as I pass by "permissi". I ask" Me'em can you tell me where I can find the house of S.?" Ofcourse they know, they always know. "S. is not home" I turn around and see the biggest smile on the beautiful face of E. The 7 year old of S.. "Mama will be home soon" he says. So we wait in the front of this little house while the rats eat the rice leftovers from yesterday.

Me and my teammate decided to visit one of the girls because she asked us to. She told us she is sick. We saw her a couple of days ago when we took her and her son to the mall. Gave them a decent meal to eat. After that we received a phone call that she was sick. But obviously she feels better since she isn't home. It was quite a hassle to find them. The person who suppose to pick us up from the local market decided to not show up. But gave us vague instructions instead. Then we could not reach S. by phone. My teammate told me it always happens. I have a lot of growing in patient to do. Finally after more than an hour later we arrive at this little place. That left me speechless. I could not talk for the first hour. I cannot find any words in any language to describe how it looked like or how I felt. I could not believe my own eyes. I could not believe that 'my' dear S. and E. are living here.
As S. came home, she opened the door and excused herself for her house. A little room 2 by 3 meters with something on the ground that looks like mattress on the ground. I count 3 bottles of glue to sniff. No toilet, no running water, but rats and fleas instead. Walls so thin and zero privacy. Salt is thrown on the bed because Satan had entered her body, “that's why she's sick” her neighbors said.

I felt tears burning behind my eyes. And wanted to scream "Why is this world so unfair?" I feel all frustration from earlier that day, about waiting, not holding promises and time, melting away. From the inside I cry out “please show us how!”

We talk for a while and decide to wait for the next day to bring her to the doctor. So we can go to a clinic that provides medical care for people without identity cards and directly gives medicine too. We leave a little fresh water supply and food. As we found out she didn't eat since the last time we meet. I look at her and see how skinny she is. Her eyes lay deep in her skin. I can see all signs of malnutrition and see that live on the street is wearing her young body out. Her cough worries me to. And her living circumstances  don' help at all either.

In her eyes I see the fear to face the night. I know she will run into the arms of her boyfriend and that it will only be a matter of time when she'll tell us another child is on the way. Even though today we told her again she has a choice, there is hope and a future, there is a way out if she wants to. But she needs to be the one to choose that way. And I just pray with all that is within me, she will find the courage to step into the unknown. And starts walking down that road to discover that there are many more walking down that pathway called Hope...

A Christmas to never forget

“What do you wanna drink?”  I’m looking in the dark brown eyes of a homeless teenager who just got of the local bus and earned some money with playing his guitar and singing songs – before I can answer the question he walks away and comes back with 2 bottles of Ice tea, one for me and one for my friend – “here”..and hands me the bottle. “So are you already longtime in Indonesia?” he asks. I stumble over my words as I’m so touched by the generosity of this teenager.

It’s a couple of days after Christmas and in the last few days I’ve learned more about Christmas then I did the last 26 years. I struggled so much with “getting in in Christmas mood” since its hot and again no white Christmas this year. No familiar family traditions or gatherings. But a tropical Christmas, like the one last year and the one in 2009. As I struggled with how does Christmas look like, and do I need to get in the Christmas mood, and what is that Christmas mood. And as I was surrendering my struggle and my stuck places to God. I felt that He was whispering about His gift to the world, and that Christmas is about giving and sharing. Now a couple of days later in the hot shining sun, in the strong smell of the local pasar, garbage and people who did not shower for some days, where the pollusion of a 20 million people city sticks to my skin I find the answer to what Christmas is about: giving and sharing with each other. Like God did, He gave His son to the world: the ultimate gift! My heart flows over in thankfulness and in the midst of this dark and yukkie place. I see a glimps of God’s love coming down.

And as we were sitting down all of a sudden lots of beautiful bright colored butterflies filled the sky and fluttering around us, yellow, blue, green, purple and orange. God is showing beauty in this dark place, remembering that there is Hope and new life for everyone. Remembering this quote: “ What the caterpillar thought it was the end of the world, the Creator calls a butterfly.”

His Love gifts, His Christmas gifts to me this year, so I can give away..

That evening we headed downtown to celebrate Christmas with a bunch of(ex) transgenders and people from different parts of the world. Lots of hearts, including mine, got touched by the love of God. I could truly celebrate Christmas this year, and felt so happy and richly blessed as we were jumping and singing Joy to the world and when we waved with our hands in the sky while singing glo-ria in excelsis deo. Singing with all my heart: Glory to God in the Highest!

And a Christmas to never forget!