We're just concluding our first week hosting our foreign exchange student, D, a lovely 16 year old woman from Tanzania. It's been a whirlwind for me; I can't even imagine what it's like for her. I lose track of all the differences she's experiencing and absorbing and adapting to here: new timezone, new country, new town, new bedroom, new climate, new family, new friends, new food, new chores, new rules, farmland instead of mountains, white instead of black, English instead of KiSwahili, dollars instead of shillings, classes instead of summer, cross-country instead of running....
But she is resilient, smart, adaptable, extroverted, and confident--all qualities that serve her well in her American adventure. Qualities that serve her well in life, as I've glimpsed this week when she has shared with me some things about her homeland. And in hearing about pervasive witchcraft, endemic exploitation, difficult work, religious tensions, crushing poverty--only once did I think: I don't know if I want to know these things. If I know them, if I know about the suffering and sin and pain experienced by people I now have a connection to--through D--then I'm responsible for my response to it.
And although I've read, and know intellectually, factually, about some of these problems, it feels more immediate and actionable to know this daughter of mine goes back there in a matter of months. And will be right there on the ground able to do something to make a difference to her nation. How to give thanks for the holy privilege of giving input into her life at this crucial age? And then, how to do it?
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