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Quiet Time

    by Kasia Kedzia

Through a Child's Eyes
Date Posted: April 17, 2007

I went to my first Internally Displaced People (IDP) camp this week. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but I was still unprepared for the experience emotionally. As we drove off a major road the short mud walls and houses, some partially thatched with cardboard or tin plats, stretched far across the emptiness. Across the street, cargo trains were piled from near by industrial work. People pass this camp every day; it is not hidden or in a remote place. It is but an hour outside of a major city and there are thousands of people there. Heck I was even stunned that buses come out here to drop people home. As we drove in and through some of the houses there were t.v. antennas sticking out from some of the tin or thatched roofs. We passed the market and a generator. It was almost like being in a small village outside of the city. We (myself and two others) were asked to come to take pictures and shoot video for a new start up organization as they distributed clothing in a part of the camp. The video would be used to aid in obtaining funds for the NGO from English speaking countries, as well as document the first project.

When we were riding through the camp I was ok, but once we got out and the children began to be lined up and people began coming, I didn't quite know how to react. I felt so many things at once I couldn't quite place what I was feeling; sadness, intrigue, shame, guilt, joy, confusion. These children seemed so happy to see us and smiled so big, their eyes so bright and innocent. People came up to say hello and shake our hands. And I didn't know how to react. I’m ashamed to say, but a part of me hesitated to reach out my hand and to touch them. Touching is intimate; it makes everything real. Do I smile back when I feel so conflicted inside, when I feel such sadness? Why am I so emotional and they don't seem to be? At one point I just wanted to take out a tissue and wipe the snot and dirt off of this cute little boy's face. I don’t know why I didn’t a part of me felt like it would be offensive or something and another part of me felt ignorant and unaccepting. What would it really solve? Why did I even want to do this? I just held his hand and spoke the little broken Arabic I knew to him.

The clothes we brought were gone so quickly and to see and hear some of the children crying or fighting over things was hard. What type of memory would that invoke in them years later? Would they think, "Some people came, took our pictures and gave out some clothes, but I didn't get any." The camp seemed to run on so far in either direction. It was like a small city. If I thought of it too much I'd get overwhelmed with the amount of needs around me. I felt joy as I spoke to some of the children and greeted them and yet I felt anger. This is where volunteers are needed! This is where they need schools! Why am I teaching at some University instead of here? Politics. I became very disconnected. On the one hand I wanted to stay longer but to do what? The word was spreading that there were outsiders with cloths but the cloths were gone, many people would come and we had nothing left for them. On the other hand I wanted to get out of there because I was numb and confused and did not feel like I belonged there. I felt like a trespasser, like a tourist in a forbidden place. I felt quite helpless.

The entire time while there I never once thought of any of my ‘problems’ and when I returned to the confines of my home and my mind began to wonder again back to 'me' I felt shame. My worries are nothing compared to these peoples lives; each life is a miracle. I don't care if it sounds sappy, there was just something in the faces of those kids. You do see God in little children and you can't deny it. No matter how many people I have heard describe their similar experiences in these types of camps or orphanages (and I've heard a few described quite well) you are never prepared for your own such experience and you can't really, truly convey it. All I can say is that it changes something in you. All the things Jesus said about children and beign like them came to mind. There is a certain simplicity and innocence that I desire in order to see God better. Through the eyes of those children I got a glimpse of him and how to seek him, this week.

Matt 11:25 (NIV)At that time Jesus said, "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children.

Mt href="http://www.studylight.org/desk/?query=mt+18:3&translation=niv&st=1&new=1&sr=1&l=en">Matthew href="http://www.studylight.org/desk/?query=mt+18:3&translation=niv&st=1&new=1&sr=1&l=en">Matthew 18:3 (NIV) And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Mt href="http://www.studylight.org/desk/?query=mt+19:14&translation=niv&st=1&new=1&sr=1&l=en">Matthew href="http://www.studylight.org/desk/?query=mt+19:14&translation=niv&st=1&new=1&sr=1&l=en">Matthew 19:14 (NIV) Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

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Biography Information:
Gods brought me a long way from the New York City Housing Projects. I studied the Bible, repented, and was baptized for the forgiveness of my sins when I was 17 and have been repenting and striving towards heaven ever since. The hardest thing about becoming a Christian at 17 was trusting that God would take care of me, meet my emotional teen needs, and help me overcome my enormous insecurity...what else would a teen girl have trouble with?

Since those first days, I have made it out of the Projects, finished my Masters degree in International Development, and moved  to DC  to work in my field. As a young single Christian woman my struggles today are a little different than they were when I first came to know God, but who am I kidding, not much. It's the every day battle for my heart to be pure before God, to strive to please him, and help others to seek and know Him.

Over my years of a faithful walk with God I have received much grace and compassion and have been blessed beyond my wildest dreams. Through out it all one thing has stayed consistent: God's word. Through His word I have been inspired and it has kept me faithful even when faith seemed like a foreign concept and God seemed deaf to my prayers. I started emailing my Quiet Times which helped me stay accountable as I shared my struggles and fought for understanding. Some wrote back and said they too were inspired and could relate. I hope some of my times can help inspire others who are seeking and fighting just like I am, to get to heaven and take as many as possible with me along the way.

Like what your read? Check out my blog: http://stronggirlforlife.wordpress.com/
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