The Personal Side of Poverty

Recently I visited HIV/AIDS patients at the general hospital.  I met a young man and his mother who sat on his hospital bed.  The other patient in the room was a Cameroonian man who was unresponsive - it was obvious he was dying in front of this young man and his mother.

After praying for everyone in the room, I left with my heart in my stomach.  Dying in a foreign country with no family by your bedside would be a nightmare in itself.  What is worse is that the hospital doesn’t even provide needed medicine. 

In the West anti-retroviral drugs would probably have kept this man alive.  In my experience compassion quickly turns to shell-shock when faced with the deep injustices upon which this suffering is built.  Many conscious decisions were made all over the world that led to this man dying alone and in pain.  I want to scream, “It’s not fair!” 

Living in the midst of poverty is not easy.  It is not fun.  I don’t feel noble.  It is very confusing.  Imagine the proverbial homeless guy downtown asking you for money.  What do you do?  What do you do if it happens all the time?  What do you do if you actually know the guy?  What if the guy goes to your church?  What do you do if the books on the subject (i.e. missiology) tell you to be careful not to create a state of “dependence,” but Jesus tells you to have compassion?  Where’s the line drawn between being generous and creating dependence? 
And talk about existential issues.  Thoughts such as, “If I were born in Equatorial Guinea instead of the States...” can keep you up all night!  That is, if the witch doctors aren’t already keeping you up.  But that’s another story.

Jason and his wife, Lisa, along with their young son, Kenyon, taught national believers while serving in Equatorial Guinea. They have recently returned to the States for health reasons.