Iris Richard

                 I was born in the summer of 1955, in a steel-producing city in the industrial region of Germany, to a family of blue-collar workers. During the tumultuous sixties, I was a young girl, happy and carefree, until a serious health issue altered my view of life in a profound way. My physical condition and my defiance against its grim prognosis devastated me and was perhaps the starting point to my pursuit in search of a deeper purpose.

                 By the time the seventies came around, the blossoming hippie era spread like wild fire throughout Europe and our village was engulfed in it. All around me, I saw signs of a new style of life and an invigorating liberalism. I was nineteen when my training course as a nurse came to an abrupt end because of the worsening scoliosis I had been struggling with since early teen hood.

                 In the midst of the emotional turbulence that came with passing through my teen years, I felt a strong desire to leave home in order to chart my own path. I stumbled along at first, fumbling my way into the counter-culture movement.

I had just turned twenty, when together with a couple of friends, I ventured on an unforgettable journey, travelling in an old refurbished camper. Our search for higher values and something deeper took us over 20,000 kilometers through parts of Europe, the Middle East, and onward in a pilgrimage for peace and purpose. It was an adventure that often led us to the edge, where we experienced loss, sickness and danger, which left deep imprints on our hearts.

                 During various instances along my journey, I sometimes remembered the religious lessons in my last year of school and a treasured song, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” by Martin Luther. Each time I sang that song, my heart warmed and lifted my soul. God was knocking on the door of my heart. I recalled how, as a young teenager, on my confirmation day in the old stone chapel, I had pledged to follow godly principles. But, in the throes of this new type of freedom and nonconformity, this pledge was all but forgotten.

                 After two years of travelling, still yearning for a fulfilling profession, I came to a crossroad in my life. Empty and disillusioned, I felt that I couldn’t keep living our roaming dropped-out lifestyle much longer.  

                 It was 1978, when after an all-night drive from the border of Nepal, we stopped for a rest at a small hostel. My life was about to change. Entering the canteen, I noticed the only guests were a group of missionaries having breakfast. As it was a rare occasion to meet foreign travellers in a town way up in northern India, a lively conversation soon began. Their kindred spirits and simple explanations of Bible verses, led me to dedicate my life to helping others, which marked a new beginning and renewal for my restless, searching soul. 

                 Some years later, I decided to become a relief worker, and I found great satisfaction in service to poor communities in a variety of developing countries. This chosen path was a direct result of the kindness of selfless and dedicated folks, like the missionaries I’d met on my life-changing journey to India.

                 Throughout more than 40 years of humanitarian work, including three decades working in Kenya, I have experienced unexpected provision at just the right time, protection in the face of danger, as well as Jesus’ favour, grace  and strength in seasons of hardship. In our demanding work, I have learned — and am still learning — to rely on God’s strength rather than my own. Since then my life took on a new direction. I have become aware of how every task, challenge, struggle and experience is a steppingstone, shaping me into the person I am meant to be.

                 Thinking over all that has taken place, I realize that the presence of God was woven into the tapestry of my life from the beginning. At times the threads were obscure and unnoticed, until the moment His presence moved into the forefront and I found my purpose.

Love has ears to heed the sighs and sorrows of men. It has hands to help others. It has feet to hasten to the poor and needy.

I was on my way to an important appointment, which unfortunately was scheduled during the city’s much-dreaded morning rush hour. If possible, I try to plan my day in such a way that I can skip being on the road during that time.

When I headed out the door, I hoped that it would be different that day, but to my dismay, I soon was stuck in a slow-moving traffic jam. Moreover, to make matters worse, one of those old decrepit garbage dump trucks with an open back had pulled out of an apartment block right in front of me.

In Kenya, trash is a coveted commodity. Most discarded items still have value for someone, and recycling is done at the city’s huge garbage dumps by people who live there in hovels and cardboard huts.

Most of the refuse-collecting vehicles are decades old, and the outside looks as dreadful as the contents. This truck was so old that it creaked loudly, spewed diesel fumes, and surrounded everyone in close proximity with a cloud of intrusive stench. As if someone had tried to make it a more pleasant sight, it was decorated with discarded toys, old shoes and bits of Christmas decorations that dangled from strings off the sides. I wrinkled my nose and felt like swearing at the bad luck — not only the traffic jam, but being jammed behind the worst possible vehicle.

Then I noticed the three garbage collectors dressed in rags sitting in the midst of the heap of refuse on the open-back truck. One of the men was reading to the others from a large book — a Bible. Their faces held a serene expression, and they seemed to be quite oblivious to their awful surroundings.

As I sat in my car, watching this incongruent scene, it got me thinking about God. Despite the jam, praise began to form on my lips and lifted my gloomy mood. Soon the traffic jam dissolved and the truck turned into a side street. But the silent testimony of God’s presence in the midst of refuse and trash, and how these humble workers had partaken of something divine, stuck with me. I drove on, happy to have left the traffic jam behind, but touched by what I had witnessed.

By Iris Richard

Last year, during one of our aid projects in a poor community, we met Benson, a young freelance reporter. He offered to take some professional photos for our website. At another occasion, Benson asked us for prayer regarding the hardship he had experienced for most of his life, and which still affected him in a negative way.

Benson was the firstborn son of a young couple who lived in a small village on the banks of Kenya’ Lake Victoria. Unfortunately, the family’s simple and happy life soon took an unhappy turn when his mother died of malaria. His father remarried a woman, who already had two daughters. As is common to some rural African communities, he then took on a second wife. Although he was only six, as his father’s firstborn son, Benson, resented and despised by his jealous stepmothers, they called him a rat.

              A failing harvest drove their family to the capital, and they moved into a small hut in the Kibera slum. Benson’s father was mostly absent in desperate search of work, and at home, Benson was the last in line to receive food and care. The women often kept him home from school to do their chores and beat him. Benson was ten years old, he ran away. 

              He found himself part of a gang of roaming street children and was forced into begging by the ringleaders. He lived the life of a castaway subjected to hunger, rudeness, and rejection and took to sniffing glue to escape the despair and after three gruesome years, malnourished and addicted to the substance he almost lost hope.  However, a small spark of faith and the feeling that God still had a plan for his life still flickered deep inside.

              Luckily, when his father regained steady employment, he came searching for his son and brought him home. Even though by then he was thin and sickly, he had a will to live and soon recovered. At school, a kind teacher took him under her wings and gave him extra hours of tutoring for free, which enabled him to make up the years he had missed. In fact, when his outstanding performance drew the attention of a well-wisher who sponsored him for high school. It looked like Benson’s life was finally looking up. 

              However, by this time his father’s other wives had 11 younger children, and their attitudes toward him had not improved. Benson’s home life felt unbearable, and when he was 15, he ran away again. 

              He joined a dance troop, which paid for his food and rent for a small room, while he finished high school. His love for soccer and willingness to practice hard paved the way into the national soccer team, when another setback entered his life. He broke his leg and the multiple fracture crumbled his dream of a promising future. 

              Angry with God and frustrated with life, he joined a group of jobless, disillusioned youths who got into petty thefts. During months of insecurity, thoughts of suicide often crossed his mind, but a tiny glimmer of hope remained in his heart.

              After leading some foreign photographers on a tour through the slums, he received a cheap camera as a gift. It was then that he discovered his love for photography and began to portray various aspects of the harsh lives in his neighbourhood. Still trapped in the vicious cycle of worry, anxiety, and self-reproach, he was desperate for a way out. 

              God again threw him a lifesaver, when his talent drew the attention of a charity that agreed to sponsor him for college, where he obtained a degree in film/photography and journalism. With a chance to travel and gather further education, he became a freelance journalist. Having produced various documentaries aired by several renowned TV channels, he found a platform to raise awareness, depicting the plights of marginalized people, which gave him new purpose for life. 

              Most of us may not have endured the setbacks and trials that Benson did, but we can still testify to experiencing the manifestation of God’s love, care and protection in our lives, perhaps in the form of a kind-hearted stranger reaching out to us or some other type of godly intervention. Even though hard times cloud our vision and faith, God never abandons us and will never fail to support us through life’s difficulties. 

God will not permit any troubles to come upon us, unless He has a specific plan by which great blessing can come out of the difficulty.

—Peter Marshall

By Iris Richard

When a pandemic enters our lives, when all around us morphs into a state of uncertainty and chaos, it is natural to succumb to fear, anxiety, and worry. Even though all of us are affected in one way or another, some suffer more severe situations, face isolation, loneliness, financial difficulties, sickness, and even death. Such circumstances are hard to cope with, and a cloud of negative emotions—such as despair, hopelessness, and fear of the future—can settle like a dark cloak over us.

      Questions batter our minds. How long will it be before we are released from this uncertainty? What will tomorrow bring? How will we survive? News headlines engender fear and worry of infection and losing loved ones can augment the feeling of helplessness. The threat of losing our jobs can be all too real, and we can find ourselves in the midst of turmoil that threatens to overcome us. We’re all human, so it makes sense that our hearts hurt and our faith wavers when observing the impact that COVID-19 is bringing in its wake.

      We ask ourselves what we can do in response to the alarming circumstances that unfold around us, how we can react when trying to stay positive just isn’t enough.

Keep praying

“Prayer is the Christian’s greatest weapon.”—Billy Graham

      As believers, we look up. We seek God through prayer and trust in His sovereignty. Scripture tells us that prayer is one of our most powerful resources. When you are at a loss for words, or when you feel like you’re beating down God’s door with the same prayer day after day, ask God’s Holy Spirit to help you. The Bible tells us the Holy Spirit is an intercessor for us and cries out to God on our behalf.[1]

Immerse yourself in God’s Word

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble, therefore we will not fear.” “The name of the Lord is a strong tower: The righteous man runs into it and is safe.”—Psalm 46:1–2, Proverbs 18:10

      When you feel as if your very soul hurts from news reports of disaster, spread of disease, and death, you can find a place of refuge in God’s Word.

The gift of hope

“Trusting God’s faithfulness can dispel our fearfulness.”—Leslie Koh

      God will not only fulfill His promises in His time, but He will also sustain us. This was the same hope that God’s people had as they waited for Him to complete His plan, to deliver them from their enemies, wipe away their tears, and remove their disgrace.[2] In the meantime, God gave His people refuge and shelter as they waited. He comforted them in their ordeals, gave them strength to endure, and gave them assurance that He was there with them. This is the promise we have of His protection, comfort, strength, and shelter throughout our lives.

Guard your heart

“Grief can kill a person emotionally and physically. If not counteracted with God’s strength and power, our personal weakness may debilitate us.”—Billy Graham

      Even though it’s important to stay informed about the latest developments, especially in time of crisis, nevertheless information overload and repeated scenes of graphic images from tragic events on TV or social media can have a negative influence. It’s important to recognize that this input can leave lasting impressions that affect us physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Care for others

“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”—Galatians 6:2

      You can support others who experience loss or who may be going through a personal crisis by lending a helping hand—make that phone call, write that email, help shop for someone who is unable to, be a listening ear. Look around for ways to be a blessing. Even a smile, a friendly comment, a small deed of kindness, or showing some form of camaraderie can go a long way toward cheering a lonely soul.

Share of what you have

“Your abundance may be a supply for their want, that their abundance also may be a supply for your want.”—2 Corinthians 8:14

      When everyone rushes to buy supplies and stock up on needed items, one can refrain from grabbing the last needed item off a shelf in the supermarket and letting the next guy have it. While sharing with others might be the last on a list of to-dos during a crisis, it’s often through an act of unselfish giving or sharing that we find ourselves blessed in some way, as is brought out so well in this well-known prayer of Saint Francis:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.

[1] See Romans 8:26.

[2] Isaiah 25:1.

Willie and the Five-Minute Favor By Iris Richard

We were just finishing up the distribution of fifty ten-kilo care packages to poor people—most of them widowed or disabled—in a hall at the edge of one of the largest slums in East Africa.

               Happy to have completed the project, I turned to leave when my colleague held up the last package, saying, “Before we close, let us quickly deliver this one to Willie up the hill. He isn’t able to walk down here.”

               I was tired, sweaty, and my back ached. “Up the hill” sounded easy, but after the rain, the path into the slum was muddy and we had to climb over rocks and garbage to reach his hut.

               I was about to postpone this task for another time when I remembered my new resolution of “five-minute favors,” which was inspired by something I read online:

Want to make the world a better place? … Enter the five-minute favor concept that is no more complicated than its name alludes: Take five minutes out of your day to do something that’ll benefit another person. … It doesn’t cost you much, but it can make a big difference in somebody’s life.

               Giving it some thought, I figured that besides spreading happiness, being generous also comes with the benefit of improving happy feelings. Some even say that it has ties to longevity. After all, in giving lies the well-known truth: “Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.”

               Back to Willie. Well, we did climb that hill, and upon entering his tiny hut, I knew that the effort had been worthwhile. There he was, sitting on a rickety bed, the only piece of furniture he had left after his belongings had been washed away by a recent flash flood, when the dirty river that leads through the slum burst its banks. He was rescued and brought up the hill to a tiny room.

               We learned that Willie had been a caddy at a local golf club, and while walking to work he had been hit by a car. The accident cost him his leg. Evidently, the vehicle wasn’t roadworthy and had faulty brakes. The driver had fled, but when caught later, it turned out that he wasn’t insured, nor could he compensate Willie for the accident.

               Due to his disability, Willie lost his job and hasn’t been able to pay the rent and fears eviction. In order to survive, he wishes to start a small roadside business in front of his hut, selling cleaning supplies to folks from his community or passersby, but he lacks the means.

               Willie received our care package with a big smile. “God has sent you!” he said, and a tear ran down his cheek.

               This favor took us a bit more than five minutes, but it made a huge difference in this man’s life, as it not only met an immediate need, it also opened up an opportunity for Willie. As a result of this visit, we were able to contact other people who were interested in helping him, and three months of rent has been raised and monthly food packages are being delivered to his doorstep.

               “I found new hope and purpose because of you,” Willie said, when donated items for his little roadside business were delivered by well-wishers!

Adam Grant, of the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania, practices a refreshingly nice approach to life and success, one that you might not typically associate with a business-school professor. His work focuses on how being a “giver”—that is, offering help to your colleagues—will ultimately bring you more success and respect than being a “taker.” He even wrote an entire book on the subject. In his research on high-performing salespeople, for example, he’s found that they tend to score “unusually high … on the desire to benefit others.”

               Generosity in the workplace is a very nice idea, but one hang-up many people have about this philosophy is—just who has the time for that? Enter the “five-minute favor,” a term Grant coined to make his point that not every act of giving must be especially time-consuming.

               One can never tell what great things a five-minute favor can set into motion in the course of a normal day, the workplace, or just as we go along our way.

Countless stories and parables are being told of ‘small beginnings’ that lead to greater ends and this is how my own small-beginnings-story began.

It was a comment from a stranger that got me thinking about a change of direction for the Social work with poor communities we were involved in at the time.  The place where we had been working hadn’t yielded much lasting fruit and the outcome of our labour hadn’t at all, been what we hoped.  Our efforts seemed wasted and work had become increasingly frustrating.

Bill and I are old friends. When we met up for coffee recently, he told me about his struggles. His wife had developed a chronic condition which left her bedridden and Bill struggling with her care. Meanwhile, he was overwhelmed by the demands at his workplace and fears of losing his job. This led to a crisis of faith. I had found myself battling with similar emotions not long ago. We prayed together, but later I felt I had more to share, and this is the letter I wrote.

Dear Bill,

            It was nice meeting with you, even though it saddens me to hear of your setbacks and hardships. Recently I went through a rough spot in my life. Perhaps what brought me through could help you as well.

            When I lost sight of God, finding a place of quiet—like early in the morning, when only the birds were up and chirping, or in the quiet of night when all external commotion has ceased—led me to realize that I had to become quiet, shutting down my mental processes, to be able to hear from God clearly again.

            Talking with a trusted friend about my heartaches helped me process the difficult situations. I learned not to be afraid of tears.

            Reading a variety of spiritually feeding materials did wonders, as I found passages that turned my key. As I kept searching for hope, it did eventually spring forth.

            Finding even small reasons for praise kept the nagging voices of negativity and misery at bay and helped me to keep open the door to regaining my faith.

            Since then, I made some commitments:

            Whenever I find myself too worn out to pray, I pray anyway—trusting that God will hear my plea.[[See Job 22:27.]]

            When feeling too weary to read God’s Word, I read it anyway—God’s Word is living and powerful.[[See Hebrews 4:12.]]

            When too impatient to find my inner stillness, I seek for it anyway—reminding myself that God mends broken hearts.[[See Psalm 147:3]]

            When my thoughts are downcast and sad, I look up anyway—trusting that the fog will lift, for God promises to reward those who seek Him.[[See Hebrews 11:6.]]

            To end this letter, dear Bill, I wish you all the best and promise to keep your situation in my daily prayers.

Your friend,

Iris

By Iris Richard

          Tall clouds, the color of an angry grey, hovered across the sky, reflecting the mood I had been entertaining all day.

          Like the challenges which have recently mounted around me and the many pending tasks that fill the pages of this week’s agenda, I thought as I gazed at the scenario in front of me.

          It seemed that recently a number of things hadn’t worked out the way I expected.  While I stood on the balcony of my small apartment steeped in these grey thoughts, an arch of colors formed, crossing the entire firmament.  Even though I knew that this beautiful display of color was caused by the refraction and dispersion of the sun’s light by rain and water droplets in the atmosphere, this awesome rainbow also can symbolize a token of God`s promises and is a reminder of the special covenant the Eternal made between himself and mankind, giving meaning to the phenomena of a rainbow. (Gen 9:13)  

          The colors of the Rainbow can be likened to a Kaleidoscope of God’s love, reminding that there is hope in even the darkest of lives situations.  Each of the hues reflecting a part of God’s care, that some of the examples about the significance of colors describe. The addition of a few Bible passages round off this short color-refection.

RED — is a warm and positive color. It exudes a strong and powerful energy and motivates us to take action.

Isaiah 41:10  Fear not; for I am with you: Be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of My righteousness.

ORANGE– offers emotional strength in difficult times. It helps in recovery from disappointments, despair and grief. The color psychology of orange is optimistic and uplifting.

Psalms 147:3  He heals up the broken in heart, and binds up their wounds.

YELLOW– Being the lightest hue of the spectrum, the definition of yellow is uplifting and illuminating, offering hope, happiness, cheerfulness and fun.

Nehemiah 8:10  The joy of the Lord is my strength. Proverbs 11:30  The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life.

GREEN– From a meaning of colors perspective, green is also the color of growth, the color of spring, of renewal and rebirth. It renews and restores depleted energy.

Romans 12:2  Be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of you mind…

 BLUE– emotional calm and insight of blue, inspiring hope and a generosity of spirit not available from other colors. From a color psychology perspective, blue is reliable and responsible.

Isaiah 40:31 They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

INDIGO– The color reflects great devotion, wisdom and justice along with fairness and impartiality.  It is a defender of people’s rights to the end.

Psalms 32:8  I will instruct you and teach you in the way which you shall go: I will guide you with Mine eye.

VIOLET- With the energy and strength of red and the spirituality and integrity of blue, it carries the meaning of the union of body and soul creating a balance between our physical and our spiritual energies.

Deut. 33:25  As your days, so shall your strength be.

          God being the Giver of all these wonderful qualities and gifts can heal, restore and renew and when next encountering a rainbow, remember what all is wrapped in this wonderful display of His might.

Excerpts taken from Meaning of colors–Google