For the month of April, Team IGNite served at Desa Amal Jireh (Jireh Charity Village) in Semenyih, Malaysia, just a subway ride away from Kuala Lumpur. DAJ is a home for nearly 100 orphaned and underprivileged children and teenagers and 11 destitute senior citizens, and they also run a home-school on the compound for some of the children.
Life at DAJ for us included cutting and pealing mountains of vegetables to feed everyone everyday, leading devotions every night, planning and leading Friday night children’s chapel, playing games with the children, and putting on various talks and activities for the home school kids.. For me, life here also included spending 2 hours every morning with my sweet friend Ruyi.
Ruyi is as 14 year old girl at the home who has cerebral palsy as a result of a drugs during pregnancy. And in true World Race fashion of being thrown into things you don’t really know how to do, I unexpectedly became her “therapist” for the month.
This blog goes out to you, girl.
Dear Ruyi,
You are just the person I needed this month to keep me going everyday. You gave this month purpose for me. On days when I had a bad attitude, was frustrated with small things, was exhausted, or lacked motivation, your smile made everything worth it.
Thanks for putting up with me most of the time, even though I was just a stranger telling you to move in weird ways and to do tasks you didn’t want to do. Thanks for so easily letting me into your life and for quickly making me not a stranger.
For not being able to talk as much as I know you want to, you are one of the most expressive people I know. Keep that spark, girl. Your enthusiasm is cherished. Like that time you tried explaining why your head hurt so much by suddenly demonstrating how you fell forward out of your wheelchair the night before, this time into my freaked out arms.
Ruyi, you love deeply. There were days when all you would do for 20 minutes is cry. The reason being you wanted Sister Aleisha to come back. Upon seeing her walk in, your tears would turn to a beaming smile and your arms would fly in the air. The way you wave me over to you just to say hi, the way you attempt to give your sisters back rubs, and how you say thank you probably 5 times just on our way back to the girls’ home…you love people.
When you’re motivated, you’re really motivated. You don’t just accept a task as something you can’t do. You want it bad, to the point of crying with frustration. We all have many things we don’t do well, whether physically, relationally, personally, whatever. But sometimes it’s easier to just accept that that’s who we are or that that’s just a struggle we’re always going to have, when really change and redemption are possible. You make change seem possible. And you motivate me to work harder. You motivate me to push through the difficult moments on the Race, knowing the difficulties lead to more growth, more intimacy with God, and better relationships with teammates.
I pray you would know how loved you are. How deeply and incredibly loved. You do not have to eat neatly and independently to be loved. Speaking in clear sentences does not make you more deserving of love. Walking doesn’t earn you love. Picking up and putting down blocks perfectly isn’t a qualification to be loved.
You are loved as you are right now.
I truly wish you could run around with the other kids. I wish you could tell me exactly how you are feeling and why. I wish you could sit down in the exact patch of grass you want to be in without having to point, groan, and be placed in the wrong spot by someone else. I wish you could go to the bathroom in privacy and on your own timing.
I don’t know why this is the life you were dealt. Cerebral Palsy is a nasty thing.
But I do know The Lord is and will be glorified through your life. And I do know you can have a huge influence on the lives of the people around you. And I know The Lord created you with a beautiful purpose.
While we struggle to depend on a God much greater than ourselves, and more so struggle to rely on the people around us, you Ruyi, humble yourself daily into the care of someone else. I just finished talking to a squadmate about how we tend to strive for the image of being strong and tough, able to handle anything. But then I see you, joyfully asking someone to give you a drink of water, to put you on the toilet, or to lift you higher in your wheelchair. If only I could be half as humble and trusting as you.
But, Ruyi, I want you to know that you can do more than you think you can. Asking for help when needed is a good thing, but don’t let the people at DAJ baby you into thinking you can’t do it on your own. And don’t underestimate the power of our God to bring improvements, strength, and ability into your life. He can do immeasurably more than you think.
Not having people understand you must be so frustrating. Thanks for being patient with me as I learned your words and hand motions for “water”, “bathroom”, “scoot me up”, “my neck brace is so annoying”, and “I want to go outside.” I’m sorry for all the times you are left misunderstood.
And I wish you knew how God knows your every desire, struggle, and success. You don’t need to speak out loud in complete sentences to a God who hears our every thought. When you feel unknown or abandoned, I pray you’ll know that God knows you intimately and cares deeply for you. When it seems like the world is against you, you can know God is for you.
Ruyi, I’m so thankful for the time we spent together every morning this month and for the way God orchestrated our meeting. Working with you was my favorite part of the month and one of my favorite opportunities on the Race so far. Thanks for being an example for me of humility and perseverance.
Love you,
Sister Katie
