For the first time since we came to Congo, it is quiet in our room. We are on the third floor of a Catholic guest house, St Annes, in Kinshasa. Our ceilings are about 15 feet high, and at the top is a screened opening in the concrete for air flow. This lets in not only air, but also rain, mosquitos, and sound. Outside of our window we can look down on a beautiful, green courtyard furnished with palm trees, flowers, and a statue of Jesus. A literal picture of tranquility. All around the guest house and gardens is a high cement wall to keep all the craziness that lies just beyond the gate on the outside. One might think that this walled in enclave would be still and serene, and to the eye alone, it is! But add the sense of hearing, and the picture is completely changed. The sounds of the chaos outside come floating over the walls and charging through our screened windows both day and night. In the morning, instead of being awoken by chirping birds, it sounds as if masses of people are standing just outside our window, loudly shouting and bartering and laughing and driving - all fighting to be heard above the crowd. A literal sea of sound echoing up from the 10 million people who compete to call this city home. It is surreal how close and real it sounds, as if our room has been surrounded! Think times square on a loudspeaker right in your bedroom.
Then from every afternoon till late into the night we get our own private concert that never ends. First it is what sounds like an orchestra playing all kinds of music. Truly, it is so loud, we can feel the vibrations! The crazy part is, we have yet to figure out where it is coming from. This music cannot be heard on ground level because of all the other buildings and walls (EVERYTHING is surrounded by its own thick, tall cement wall with rolls of barbed wire stretched across the top). We can hear it because we are up above most of the normal sound barriers, where the music can drift uninterrupted above the rooftops. It is very beautiful, but definitely makes afternoon naps a bit hard! At night there is definitely a party going on somewhere down there! Sometimes it is the orchestra music again, sometimes it is reggea, and sometimes it is something with a clubbing beat. Last night - saturday night - the music was an all out concert with people cheering, horns blowing, and bass thumping. This went on well past midnight.
They say that New York is the city that never sleeps, but I have to say that it ain’t got nothin on Congo! No matter what time it is, there is SOMETHING going on in that huge concrete jungle spread out below our window.
But today is Sunday. Times square has given way to the sweet, sweet sound of birds and church choirs. This is a rare time, and I am soaking it up.
You see, in Congo, peace is rare. For years and years now the country has been at war. War with itself through rebel groups and upsrisings, and war with its neighbors. Every rebel group or war lord is fighting for power, wealth, and position, and most of the time, the ones who suffer most are the masses. But the masses themselves are also entrenched in a similar battle: they each are seeking earnestly to make a place and a name for themselves, or at least to just survive in a country that can be very harsh. Life is a constant straining to be heard above that sea of voices. The government seeks only its own good, and the people, each just trying to survive, do likewise. In the end, no one comes out the winner. Each person lies and is lied to. No one can trust another person. We have been told by almost every Congolese we have met here “I never trust anyone, that’s just how it is.” Walls of self preservation are erected to try to keep the crazy hurt and chaos out... but just like the walls around St Annes, these walls are decieving. Self preservation appears like peace and security, but it is really a pit of loneliness. And those walls are not keeping chaos out; really they are trapping it inside.
This is how I can best explain my daughter right now. She wants so much to be safe and secure, to be fed and cared for, to have a place and a name. But she wants to do it herself. She is very unsure about trusting anyone else to help her. She has been lied to. She has been hurt. She has been abused. She has been “on her own” for most of her life. And those who were supposedly “caring for her” were not. In an orphanage, the children look out for one another, but they do it in a way that mimics the adults: the ones who are stronger get to be in charge, and bossiness rules the day. So what does my child know of childish innocence? Of parental security? Of what love truly means? Taking down the walls is just too much of a risk. The noise that has completely enveloped her life up until this point is just too loud. She’d rather have fake tranquil - pretend control, just like that ineffective garden wall around St Annes - then risk facing the chaos that could come from the vulnerability of love.
And don’t I just understand that perfectly? Don’t I do that too? God knows exactly what I am going through as a parent who desprately wants my child to love and trust me. I will not hurt her, and I know that! But she does not believe it yet. She might not like the things that I am asking her to do or the times that I say NO, but they truly are for HER GOOD. But how can she KNOW for sure? Isn’t this the same parenting that I resent God for at times, and so I put up walls of mistrust around my own heart?
Yes, I know the struggle my daughter is facing... the difference is that she has good reason not to trust us, and I have every reason to trust God. Almost every adult in her life until now has left her, lied to her, or let her down. God has NEVER left me, lied to me, or let me down! His plans have always proven good in test of time! So that is what we need to accomplish for our daughter... to weather the test of time, and show her that our actions can prove what we profess. We love her, she can trust us to care for her, we will not hurt her. These are the basics. We are happy to start right THERE, and everything else will follow.
So... for an update, today was mostly good. Better than yesterday, at least! We are slowly making progress on winning her heart. We will take every small victory that we can get and rejoice in it. The worst part of today was after nap (she obviously NEEDS a nap, but when she wakes up she is NOT a happy camper). Well, she lost the chance to go out to the store with us, so I went and Dan stayed behind with her. She knew that she was in trouble, but she was going to try to test the longevity of our resolve. I really think she thought that we would just give in and take her with us if she pouted enough. Apparently, literally as soon as I left she started screaming for me, and kept this up until I got back... which was about 40 minutes later. I came in and she was moaning and crying “ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma!” As soon as I went over and picked her up and wiped the tears that had been streaming down her sweet face, she stopped. After a few moments, she smiled, got up, helped make dinner, and loved on her papa for the rest of the night! It can change that quickly. Papa did not leave in the screaming (he did not pay attention to the behavior either) and mama came back. For tonight, we pass the trust test. Her smiles, laughter, and open interaction for the rest of the evening is our great reward, and we will take it. Just like the Sunday quiet outside, for tonight, we have peace inside of our room as well. Peace sounds a lot like the laughter of a beautiful African girl. It is a sweet, sweet sound, and we are soaking it up. :) Because tomorrow is another day... and It’s a Monday!
God is present everywhere.
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