February 17, 2006
Dear Friends in Christ,
I hope this newsletter finds you doing well and enjoying the blessings
of serving our Lord through the various ministries of your respective
congregations.
I struggled when I started to write this newsletter, as I often
do when attempting to share my work with you. I have so much to
share that it is hard to be concise without sacrificing important
facts about my work with children here in Croatia. Also I find
it quite daunting to convey the spirit of my work using only words,
since much of what I do is “heart work.” It seems
too matter-of-fact to say, “I help sick children and their
families cope with very difficult lives.” Or “I play
with children and comfort them, bringing brief, but hopefully
meaningful periods of happiness and contentment.”
I wish I could have at least one person from each church visit
these children and their families, in all their amazing variety
of sizes, configurations, temperaments, backgrounds, interests,
and life goals, and to experience the atmosphere of the hospitals,
the sights, sounds, smells, and feel of the treatment rooms, playrooms,
and halls. My work is not earth-shattering, I am not contributing
to new scientific discoveries or changing political systems or
developing economies of poor nations. I seek to improve the lives
through the gentle nurture of caring relationships, building trust
gradually. So much of what I do is based on being spontaneous,
keeping all the psychological knowledge of child development,
adjustment to illness, grief, etc. in the back of my mind while
constantly modifying my approach to meet the specific needs of
each child.
For example, I play with a 2-year-old whom I will call “Ivan.”
He has a degenerative liver disease and comes from a poor family
that has almost completely disintegrated. Ivan is so discolored
from jaundice that his skin is almost green, the whites of his
eyes, yellow. Even small children realize there is something “not
well” with him. He is so frail he can barely stand, let
alone walk. It has been five weeks since his last admission. He
has spent practically half of his life in medical settings. If
it weren’t for this play program Ivan would spend all day,
every day in bed, further impeding his development in all areas,
not to mention destroying the quality of his life. Ivan waits
for a liver transplant. One day as he sits on my lap we play with
animal puppets—he delights in the sounds I produce—moo,
baah, oink-oink. Then we play with a toy that has wires and beads.
I carefully guide his hand, moving it along the wires, pushing
the beads like a crazy train. We make sounds together: choo choo,
chug chug! The first toy helps to stimulate his language, the
second his fine motor abilities. But really the most important
thing is to provide him with the affection and socialization he
needs and craves.
Or take “Ana,” who is 14 years old, but looks like
she is 8 because she is so short. She has a large distended chest
and stomach. On good days she looks “only” a bit pale,
but on other days she has bags under her eyes and walks slowly.
She loses her breath just crossing the playroom. Ana has a severe
heart defect that can only be treated with a transplant, but due
to other complications the doctors don’t think she would
survive the operation. Her prognosis is poor. Ana is a bright
student who comes from a caring family. She speaks English well
because she spent some time in the United States when her parents
took her to a major research hospital in hopes that they could
offer her better treatment. Ana is quick with a smile and is very
attentive to her craft work. Just the other day we worked on a
project making papier-mache masks, since it is carnival time.
We layered newspaper dipped in plaster across balloons. Having
some experience with this, Ana helped the younger children.
We try to make each day as full and meaningful as possible for
children like Ivan and Ana. Some might wonder why we bother with
school, since Ana and children like her will not need the knowledge
for the future. That misses the point. None of us knows how much
time we have. We all should live each day like it was our last,
having fun, relaxing, and enjoying each moment with loved ones,
but we must also live as if we have a future, planning and investing
in our lives and those around us. To do otherwise would lead to
a hedonistic life, seeking only to fulfill our immediate pleasures.
Such a life quickly degenerates into chaos and emptiness. Even
young children can sense when their life has no real significance
and adults are just trying to satisfy them with gifts of toys
and candy rather than meaningful relationships and the investment
of an education.
Thank you for continuing to support me and my work. Congregations
like yours make this ministry possible. Even though we are half
way around the world, your prayers reach out and sustain us, and
so you are very much here with us in spirit.
Your brother in Christ,
Brett McMichael
The 2006 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
178 |
