Searching for Sacred

Ten years ago this month, my world changed forever. I was 23 and boarding a plane headed halfway around the world to Hanoi, Vietnam. I knew little about Vietnam. I knew Americans had fought there in the 1960’s and 70’s. I had seen the film “Good Morning Vietnam” and loved it. I had names of Americans I would team up with, but no reliable contact information. I had booked a reservation at the Phuc Loi Hotel (at the time uncertain of the pronunciation) to serve as temporary housing, but knew I would need to find a house to rent. I knew that Vietnamese was a tonal language and I was tonally challenged. I knew that I would be working with international youth, but did not know the organizational structure or leadership of the organization I was sent to help. I did know that I was up for the challenge, a part of me wanted to escape a painful job loss, but mostly I knew I needed to fly far away with the intention of finding my way back home. I packed my bags – 1 giant duffle, 1 large backpa...

I tried to be a savior, but it has only left me in a state of disbelief, sadness, and anger. I thought I was being helpful – I located resources, offered my services, sacrificed time and emotion only to have said help rejected. Not only was it rejected, but I was seen as a hostile threat not to be trusted. I was threatened, both literally by the family and internally through my own fear of what could happen to me, but mostly by my fears of what will happen to the voiceless children involved. I felt, and still feel powerless. I am watching a train wreck of lifelong consequences and I can do nothing to stop it. My kindness misinterpreted. My good intentions twisted into malice. I reached a painful conclusion today – some people refuse help. Unfortunately, when these people are parents, children are impacted. And then I think of my own life and how I have rejected the helping hands of saviors and the Savior. I think of how I interpreted love as something to be feared – something painf...