LATITUDE LATVIA... 4

During our time together we observed how some of them are growing up quickly … one had pierced her lip … one was far less shy than she had been on previous visits … for some their little English is improving … some are growing spiritually … most of them are just longing to be loved and taken care of and we witness this love and care over and over again in the commitment and faithfulness of the hardworking Officers. Captains Sergei and Aizan who give and give and give. Give when they are tired and fit to drop. Give when they feel they have nothing left to give. Give without counting the cost. Give 24/7 to both this community and the village of Seda some 50 or so miles away.

When I was a youngster there was a poster advertising Salvation Army Officership and on it was written: ‘It’s the longest, hardest, most satisfying job in the Army. Could you be a Salvation Army Officer?’ I seem to recall it mentioned things like: ‘Plumber … Painter and Decorator … Builder … Carpenter … Chef … Nurse … Teacher … Cleaner … Taxi Driver … Ambulance Driver … Doctor … Mother … Father … Musician … Evangelist … Pastor … Preacher and much, much more … Salvation Army Officer?’ For most, if not all of us those days changed long ago in the UKT and such things are no longer expected of us. But for Sergei and Azan this is what I see, day in, day out, in their service as Salvation Army Officers.

Whilst there, even for a few days we too found ourselves happily slipping into those roles. Checking on one young boy and his new glasses donated by the ‘Wright Sisters’ from our summer team of 2011 …

Observing the healed arm of another who Sven and Sergei had dashed to the hospital after a fall and his mother strapping his broken arm to the best of her ability. Visiting a disabled young girl and making sure the donated computer Sven had installed was still working and connected to the internet for her. Noticing one young boy was struggling to walk and discovering he had a terrible open wound on his foot … and tenderly washing and dressing it for him. We gave the iodine and ointment we brought along to dress an open wound on Sven’s foot twice a day to the officers, only to find him running around a few hours later, through the grass, trees and stony ground of his village with no shoes or socks on and the dressing gone. And the very next day we saw his older sister with a similar wound. Any nurses out there wanting to make a difference and join us in summer 2012???!!!

Tuesday took us to Seda for another impromptu Shashlik Party and in lots of ways the same stories could be repeated but with different faces. However, for me there was one huge, significant difference. Earlier in the summer, during our mission week we had planned to do a ‘pamper ‘ afternoon for the ladies only it would have seemed God had other plans. Two of us found ourselves washing, creaming and massaging an old lady’s hands and feet. She wept as we did so telling us she was kept awake at night with so much pain in her legs, hands and feet that the night before she had prayed asking God to send someone to help her … we turned up and spent a long time ‘pampering’ her legs, hands and feet.

On Tuesday evening after our party had finished and everything was being cleared away this same old lady turned up. As soon as she saw me her face lit up, we embraced and as we did so she began to sob and repeatedly saying: ‘you promised to come back … my own children never do’.

We held each other, close to each other and she cried and cried and cried. Talking through her tears, in a language I don’t know and with her eyes pleading with me to understand and empathize. Sven was able to translate some for me without intrusion and I was able to gather she was repeating some of her story, the one she had already shared with me some weeks earlier; of how she had been robbed of everything and now she finds herself, old, penniless, alone in a nursing home, next-door to the Army, without family and desperate for God to take her ‘Home’. Amidst her obvious pain and tears there were moments when she would gift me with a radiant smile and then she would continue to cry in my arms.

As I held her I prayed, that in those moments I would really be as Jesus to her. A few things ran through my mind as I did. The words of St Francis of Assisi ‘Preach the Gospel. Use words if you must.’ I had no words for this old lady, we didn’t even speak the same language, but I knew I had to preach to her and remind her again of God’s deep, deep love for her. I found myself holding her face as she cried and wiping away her tears, picturing in my mind Jesus doing this for her in eternity and recalling the words from Revelation ‘And God will wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there will be no more crying or pain for the old order of things have passed away’. I prayed God’s peace over her and as I did so I physically witnessed her relax and her breathing settle down.

‘What can I give Him poor as I am
If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb.
If I were a wise man I would do my part
Yet, what can I give Him, Give my heart’.

I have nothing else. Heart wrenchingly and willingly I gave my heart again.

GBY real good!

Glad Ljungholm
North West DHQ
UKT