Halfway through - Tim

In 1973 as a student at the Urbana missions conference, I listened to Dr Helen Roseveare, a missionary doctor in what is now Zaire, tell the story of her gang rape by armed rebels. She told her rapt audience: "One day, evil men came. They stole everything - my possessions, my security, and then they stole my purity. I was beaten, bloodied. I couldn't pray. I was was beyond praying. Then I heard Jesus say to me: 'I need you to surrender your body to this evil right now. It is not you they are raping, but me. Trust me.' And then I began to understand the inestimable privilige of being allowed to suffer with Him in my body as well as my mind and spirit. All the hurt, shame, violence, and utter rejection by these evil men was swallowed up in this - Privilige."

Yesterday as you know, we visited ARC. So although it can hardly be grasped and makes me want to rebel against it, it is now necessary for we outsiders to view these children as priviliged to have suffered with Christ in His body - and therefore every one of them is special in the eyes of Heaven, as Marty says, angels. Three of them sat down opposite the table from me when encouraged to by one of their Cambodian teachers, who wanted to get them to practice their English on me. One of them finally asks, very quietly, "Can you be my Daddy?" I believe I understand the human loss and utter rejection by another embodied by that question. I do not know if my heart skipped a beat, but my mind was racing so fast I didn't have time to break down. "I cannot be your Daddy, for that would be wrong to call myself that if I cannot be here all the time for you; but I can be your friend." And then I broke all the rules and reached across and gently shook these three angels' hands. And without any hesitation, they reached across and shook my white middle-aged male sinful hand. And in Christ, there is no male nor female. Then as we left, they pleaded with us, "Don't go". I had to leave this beautiful oasis of extreme joy, sorrow, and hope mixed, before it tore me apart.