Partnering to build hope, capacity, and community

In community development, the most significant types of change (change that transforms lives) is often the most difficult to measure.  At Operation Mercy we get most excited when we see changes in attitudes and world views... both in our program participants' lives and in our own.  We call this transformational development... when something changes so much it needs a new name to describe it, like when a caterpillar transforms to a moth or a tadpole to a frog.  In our case it is when deep despair transforms to hope, fearful anxiety to peace, abandonment and aloneness to belonging or gut-wrenching grief to stillness of soul.

I remember when Cheryl was called to the village of one of her severely disabled students in Central Asia.  She was already nearby and so arrived shortly after getting the emergency call.  Her student had 'fallen' into a well.  Cheryl arrived at the scene seeing her student wet, unconscious and purple on the ground surrounded by on-lookers.  Cheryl immediately fell to the ground and attempted to resuscitate her for 20 minutes, all the time quietly praying, "Please God, Please God. Now is the time to intervene"  ... but he didn't.  Finally, a local elderly woman put her hand on Cheryl's shoulder and said, it is too late. It’s over.  Her time has come."  Cheryl burst into tears.  She was angry, confused, disheartened, and grieving. She hurt.  Cheryl had so many unanswered questions: "How could her student fall in the well when it was seemingly impossible to do so because of her disabilities?  Why didn't any of the villagers attempt to resuscitate her?  Why did God ignore her prayers?  Where is God when you need him?"

That night in a tearful phone call with her parents 5,000 miles away Cheryl unloaded her frustration and grief.  Her main question to her father (a pastor of a small church) was "Where was God?  Why didn't he show up?"   "Darling," her father spoke softly, "God was there all the time. And when you showed up you also brought him with you.  You were the fragrance of God to that girl and her family. I don’t understand it all myself, but as hard as it may seem, God showed that he cared for the girl through you."

When Cheryl returned to the village for her student's funeral, the girl's family treated Cheryl with special honor.  In fact, the whole village and the people of surrounding villages began to treat Cheryl in high regard from that point onward.  They began to invite her to weddings, circumcisions and other celebrations in the villages.  Cheryl was also invited to discuss issues that were of special importance to the villagers in ways that never happened before or to any of her colleagues.  You see, Cheryl had transformed from being an outsider to being an insider, from visitor to belonger.  Operation Mercy seeks to engage in community development initiatives that transform lives, including our own.  Changed lives change lives.

As the director of Operation Mercy there are two things that make my job particularly strange. When I am not traveling to Iraq, Afghanistan, Yemen or the other eight countries where Operation Mercy works, I live and work in Örebro, arguably one of Sweden’s most beautiful cities. The contrasts between where I live and the places where most of my colleagues live, are startling. For example, Sweden is ranked 3rd (i.e. top 5%) in the Corruption Perception Index. The countries where Operation Mercy works are all ranked in the bottom 10% (with Iraq 161st, Sudan 165th, and Afghanistan 166th of 167). The Global Peace Index ranks Sweden in top 10% (13th) of the most peaceful country on earth but ranks almost all of the countries Operation Mercy works in the bottom 10% as the most violent and dangerous countries on earth (with Yemen 147th, Sudan 156th, Afghanistan 160th, Iraq 161st out of 162). The same general pattern is true whether we look at life expectancy, literacy, or happiness indexes. The contrasts between Sweden and Operation Mercy’s project countries are extreme. I find it strange traveling back and forth between these contrasting places.

The second strange thing about my job is different but related to the first. It also has to do with finding a balance between two contrasting realities. It has to do with the contrast between things needing celebration and things needing mourning. At any given moment, there is always something to celebrate and something to mourn. For example, Operation Mercy has helped lower the infant mortality rate in Afghanistan, but still infant mortality in Afghanistan remains one of the worst in the world. Operation Mercy has facilitated many hundreds of children with disabilities in Tajikistan to have hope for a better life. Yet still many hundreds continue to be in seemingly hopeless situations. There are many great things going on that should be celebrated. Lives are changing, and progress is being made; but not everywhere and not for everyone…probably not for most. My job is strange because there is always something to celebrate and something to mourn.

I love my job. I'm not afraid of strange. Maybe it is not so different for any of us who want to remain hopeful and optimistic without putting our heads in the sand. Maybe "strange" is necessary to simultaneously be an optimist and a realist.