Dynamic Yet Consistent

May has been a tough month for the Cabrini Ministries’ family. 

My last blog post was about the death of two toddlers connected with the organization who drowned in the canal.  Unfortunately, this post is also about death.  Yesterday we found out that our night watchman Matthew had passed away.  He had been battling tuberculosis and other complications for several months now, so it wasn’t out of the blue.  But, to make matter’s worse, Matthew’s son Mfundi is also an employee, so the impact is doubled.

Matthew didn’t speak much English, but he was one of the Cabrini employees that we interacted with most often.  As the night watchman, he often hung out by our door and we frequently shared our dinners with him.  Mikayla was particularly found of Matthew and would run up to him and try to have long conversations with him.  He was just smile and say “Yes Sisi (sister).”

Even though his shift was primarily over night, he would often cut the grass in our front yard with a machete in the dawn and dusk hours.  Many a summer mornings I woke up to the sound of methodical slashing coming from outside.

Matthew was mostly soft-spoken, but when given the chance, he would gladly share from the bottom of his heart how blessed he felt in his life.

He was not without his faults, but he was still a great guy and earnest in his love of Cabrini Ministries and its work.  Sister Barbara was always fond of saying tongue in cheek: "The only security issues we have are with our security staff."  The truth is, whether or not we were safer because of his services is debatable, but what is unquestioned is that Cabrini as a whole was better off for having him as part of the staff.

This isn’t the first time I have had a co-worker pass away, but anytime it happens, it is difficult.Like I said… May has been a tough month for us.  Here is hoping June looks better.

[Matthew enjoying the buffet at the Child Protection training.]

Last Tuesday morning started like usual… in fact, it had a certain air of excitement to it: We had just informed a few of our staff members that they would be traveling to the United States for an AIDS conference.  Adults who rarely show excitement were bursting with smiles, almost to the point of giggling.

Unfortunately within a few hours the whole community around us was bursting with a different type of emotion: raw sorrow and pain.  We found out around 10am that the two 2-year-old children of one of our former staff members had drowned in the canal.  They had been staying with their Gogo (grandmother) and had wandered away.  Some of the children on a nearby homestead saw them in the water and called their parents.  By the time people reached them both were already dead.

I simply don’t have the words to express the amount of sadness and grief that instantly swept through the entire area.  The mother, Nakiwe, was one of our brightest employees before she took a new job to be closer to her husband in Manzini.  The father, Felix, is a police officer, but has worked with Cabrini in the education for years and years, he was apart of life on the mission even before the current sisters were.  The grandfather was one of the major leaders in the church and in his chiefdom.  Probably a quarter of our staff live within a couple kilometers of where the boys drowned.

For five days, friends and family came to the homestead to grieve with the family, but despite the crowds of people, there simply aren’t the words that can be said.  You can’t give an explanation for something as tragic as this and any words of comfort will always ring hollow.

On Sunday morning before the sun came up, Beth, Mikayla and I didn’t celebrate Mother’s Day; instead we had to watch a wonderful mother bury her two innocent children.

There is already too much death in Swaziland. 

At least once a week one of our roughly 3,000 patients dies of HIV or TB.  The country has had to encourage people to only bury people on Saturdays because otherwise there would be no time to do anything but go to funerals.

There is already too much death in Swaziland. 

We deal with severe malnutrition and extreme poverty.  Rape and abuse is a common occurrence and it often comes from those closest to the victims.  Life is tough here under the best of circumstances.

There is already too much death in Swaziland. 

Our community shouldn’t have to deal with pain of losing two toddlers on top of everything else.

I have read the Bible cover-to-cover and spent years studying scripture.  I have a degree in Religious Studies and another in Biblical Studies.  I have spent years teaching and counseling people about God and his work in the world.  But with all that knowledge, I still can’t even begin to answer the question of why things like this happen.  What Nakiwe, Felix, and their families are going through is more than anyone should every have to endure.  We simply cannot justify it or explain it; to even try is insincere and crass. All we can do is mourn and comfort each other in whatever small way we can.

During our time of grieving with the family, Sister Diane had this to say:

Times like these are a great mystery, and while we may never have an answer for the pain we feel, one thing never changes: God has eternal and perfect love for all people.

True comfort will never come in our circumstances, it can only come in understanding and living out the perfect love of God.  It doesn’t answer the question and it doesn’t end our heartache, but hopefully that perspective can help to shape our trajectory in life – even in the midst of pain.

 [Nakiwe, Sisandza,Tandziso and Felix Mabuza at the Feast of St. Philips] 

A year ago I was a student at Asbury, working at Kaleidoscope, expecting my first child.  12 months later I am a stay-at-home dad with my MA working at a distillery.  Quite a bit has changed in 2009.  Here is a look back in pictures. [HT: Dave]

January -Stephenson Chapel

[Bowling with the Youth from Stephenson Chapel]

In January I continued my work with Kaleidoscope writing grants, but also began a stint as an interim pastor for Stephenson Chapel.  At first it was only supposed to be a few week fill-in gig, but it ended up lasting 6 months.  The folks at this rural church in Russellville were an amazing example of community and incarnate love.  They put up with my quirks and gave Beth and I amazing support.

February – Ice and Stitches

[Ice damage and damaged knee]

In late January a major snow storm hit the Bluegrass.  Along with many other people I spent several days running a chainsaw helping with the cleanup.  Most of my time was out at Camp Loucon, a Methodist camp and retreat center near Leitchfield KY.  On my third day in I was sawing a hanging limb and it kicked back in a weird way sending the chainsaw bar (the chain was not moving) into my leg.  I ended up with 24 stitches in my knee, but was sawing again within 3 hours.  Some people never learn.

March – Corsair

[Custom Still at Corsair]

Beginning in October of last year, I completed several distillery tours in the state.  They are always a fascinating mix of industry, craft and science.  The most interesting was Corsair Artisan, a micro-distillery that just opened in Bowling Green.  After several visits, in March the owners asked if I would be interested in helping them out on a few projects.  My role in the company gradually expanded and now I am the Distillery Manager and handle most of the daily operations.  It is a great mix of duties that keeps me on my toes and works with my schedule.

April – Birth of Mikayla

[Mikayla at 1 week]

Some months carry more weight than others.  Thus is the case for April 2009.  On the the 28th at 10:36am, our baby girl Mikayla Lillian Kickert was born.  She weighed in at 7,7 and was 20” long.  You can see more blog posts about her here.

May – Graduation

[Celebrating with the family in all my regalia]

After 3 years, $33,000 ($21,000 out of pocket), and over 3,000 hours of work I finally graduated with a Master of Arts in Biblical Studies from Asbury Seminary.  This time was certainly formative, but looking back at it I am not convinced I would do it again if given the choice.  It was simply too much of a sacrifice for what it yielded.  For me, graduation was more than just an achievement – it represented a transition to freedom.

June – Blogging / Time with Family

[G-ma Morgan meets Mikayla for the first time]

After graduating and ending my stint at Stephenson Chapel I discovered a void in my life.  I no longer had an obvious outlet for my creativity or an avenue to work through my thoughts.  In order to fix this I began blogging (technically I took blogging back up, but my previous attempts had never amounted to anything).  Also during this time Beth, Mikayla and I had the opportunity to spend a lot of quality time together and visit with family.  We basically had 2.5 months together and took full advantage of it.

July – Garden

[The garden at the height of the growing season]

While not specific to July, one of the highlights of the year was our garden.  This was the first year we moved it to our house and it was also one of the best crops we have had.  It was a great escape and the food we produced was excellent.  Here is an earlier post about our garden and one about lessons learned throughout the year.

August – Stay-at-home Dad

[Watching Mikayla while Cooking]

When Mikayla was born Beth and I decided it made sense for me to stay at home with her during the week.  In August, my “job” started in earnest.  I had never pictured myself as a stay-at-home dad, but I have really enjoyed being able to spend time with her and it means the whole family gets more quality time.  To be honest with you, sometimes I wonder what Beth was thinking when she trusted me to not do anything stupid with Mikayla.  So far so good… for the most part.

September – Grandfather

[Grandma and Grandpa with Mikayla]

Some transitions are harder than others.  One of the tough ones for 2009 was the passing of my grandfather.  In his life he had overcome many illnesses and obstacles, but his last few months were filled with pain and everyone knew in September it was his time to go.  I wrote some of my thought about the transition of life here.

October – Long Term Relationships

[Kickerts and Altmaiers at Abrham’s Falls]

It is amazing how fast time goes by.  In October, Beth and I celebrated our 5 year anniversary.  A few months earlier we had celebrated 10 years together (dating+marriage).  Even though it sounds trite to say, I could not imagine my life without her.  That same month we spent a great weekend with old friends (Dave and I go back to Ms. Fitzgerald’s first grade class).  For Beth and I, Dave and Catherine are the type of friends that you can jump right back in with even after several months apart and never feel like you missed a beat.

November – Camry

[The Culprit]

November represents one of the most frustrating months of 2009.  A few months earlier the engine in Beth’s Camry blew (read about it here).  After a month of trying to figure out if was worth fixing, we finally bought a used engine to install.  Long story short, the engine was bad, we hit a bunch more hurdles, we have spent 3x the amount we planned on spending and as of the first week of January we still don’t have a car.  Ughh…

December – Christmas

[PJs, Hot Cocoa, and Pictures]

Since this was Mikayla’s first Christmas we made sure we spent part of Christmas day at our home together.  We were able to initiate some family traditions of our own (Beth has a great post about it).  One of the things we did was get dressed up in our pajamas (I had to buy some), make hot cocoa and take fun family pictures together.

—

Overall 2009 did not turn out the way I would have expected it to, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than where I am right now.

Today has been an odd day for me.  Despite the fact it has been quite mundane, it has been emotionally draining.  My grandfather was just moved to hospice and the doctors think we are talking days instead of weeks or months.  Grandpa was diagnosed with leukemia 17 years ago and has gone through many other life threatening illnesses, yet has always been a fighter.  Even though we have been called up to make our “last visits” several times, this time really seems different.  At the same time, my father is in town and has been immensely enjoying his time with Mikayla (he was planning on going to backpacking, but given the recent news has decided to divert to Chicago).

Dad and I had a pretty lazy day today.  We cooked some soup for a friend who just had a baby and we watched a few documentaries.  We actually spent most of the day just sitting around talking about memories and entertaining the most alert and cheerful 4 month old in the world.

It is this juxtaposition of new life and possible death that has me a bit melancholy and pensive.  I am spending time with my dad as he thinks about the possible loss of his.  He is spending time being energized by the life of his grand-daughter while I am contemplating the loss of my own grand-father.  We talked expectantly about what Mikayla’s life will hold for her as we reflect on the meaning and significance of grandpa’s life.  Every song on the radio seems to have the power to call up painful realities, or hopeful possibilities.

I could wax on about the frailty of life and the interconnectedness of all people. I could go into detail about my love for my daughter and my love for my grandfather and how each stage of life refines and expands that love.  I could focus on one and ignore the other.  But, instead, I am content to reflect on the words of Solomon:

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather themm

a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace.

~Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

This passage is often used when we are looking for reassurance in a single circumstance: why is there death, why is there pain, why is there sorrow.  We want to know that even the worst circumstances have a purpose.  For me, that is not the most significant or reassuring truth in this passage.  Instead of letting us know that there is room for even the painful things in the grand scheme of life, this passage lets us know that all things happen as part of a larger system that is always on-going.  There is always death, but there is also always life.  There is always pain, but there is also always hope.  There is always sorrow, but there is also always celebration.

For me, today has been the realization of that very truth.

The following is from John Donne’s Thoughts on Emergent Occasions.  The common phrases “for whom the bell tolls” and “no man is an island” come from this piece.  In its entirety  it is a refreshing read.  It is my hope it continues to aid in our discussion of human worth, human rights and the way we should view humanity.  Points of emphasis are mine.

XVII. MEDITATION
Now, this bell tolling softly for another, says to me: Thou must die.

Perchance he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill, as that he knows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself so much better than I am, as that they who are about me, and see my state, may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that.

The church is Catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she does belongs to all.

When she baptizes a child, that action concerns me; for that child is thereby connected to that body which is my head too, and ingrafted into that body whereof I am a member.

And when she buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated.

God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God’s hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another.

As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come, so this bell calls us all; but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness.

There was a contention as far as a suit (in which both piety and dignity, religion and estimation, were mingled), which of the religious orders should ring to prayers first in the morning; and it was determined, that they should ring first that rose earliest.

If we understand aright the dignity of this bell that tolls for our evening prayer, we would be glad to make it ours by rising early, in that application, that it might be ours as well as his, whose indeed it is.

The bell doth toll for him that thinks it doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that minute that that occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God.

Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises? but who takes off his eye from a comet when that breaks out?

Who bends not his ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings? but who can remove it from that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this world?

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were.

Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.

Neither can we call this a begging of misery, or a borrowing of misery, as though we were not miserable enough of ourselves, but must fetch in more from the next house, in taking upon us the misery of our neighbours.

Truly it were an excusable covetousness if we did, for affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.

No man hath affliction enough that is not matured and ripened by it, and made fit for God by that affliction.

If a man carry treasure in bullion, or in a wedge of gold, and have none coined into current money, his treasure will not defray him as he travels.

Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it.

Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another’s danger I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security.