17th
Laughter of Children Will Heal the World
I’m in Kathmandu, Nepal this week.
When I used to live in India, I would make visa-runs to Nepal or just come up here for a holiday. About 11 years ago we started a WMF (Word Made Flesh) community in Kathmandu and now I make visits every year or so to connect with the staff and local board of directors.
When I landed at the Tribhuvan airport this week I actually applied for what was my 15th Nepali visa since 1993. It feels like coming home in many ways.
What’s oddly comforting about Nepal—in the miracle of this tiny sliver of an isolated nation tucked between India and Tibet (Tibet still counts as a country on my list)—is how it has resisted the conformities imposed on many parts of the world through globalization. The pace of life is so slow. The commitment to family and community is central to identity. The saturation of Buddhism and Hinduism in society shapes culture in nearly every aspect. And sadly, the poverty is crushing and cruel.
Nepal is recently coming out of a simmering civil war. For 12 years the Maoists have organized a resistance movement against a corrupt monarchy that finally gave in to a form of elections and a version of freedom of speech.
Despite the history of war, the isolation, and the cruel poverty of Nepal, I can’t help but find grace and hope here in the city. I think it’s the laughter of the little girls our community here cares for—all of whom have grown up in the reality of violence and oppression—that reminds me God is near.
Since I’ve been here, I’ve been staying at Karuna Ghar, the children’s home for little girls. The home rings with the echoes of laughter from the girls. The kids have grown up substantially over the past 6 ½ years. They’ve learned to speak English extremely well (which as you know really helps me). But they’ve retained and recovered their childhood—a childhood that under different circumstances would have been stolen from them.
My first morning here I went up to the roof and hung out with Dipa and Rupa. We talked about school, them learning to read, what their favorite games are, and which colors they like the most. We talked about the changing of the seasons and the people living in their crowded neighborhood. We talked about finding sparrow’s eggs, catching ladybugs, playing with puppies, and picking flowers.
It was one of the best conversations I’ve had all year.
I didn’t have to talk about board of director governance policies or formation committees (they couldn’t name a single board member if had asked), I could let myself stop thinking through senior leadership transitions in WMF (I’m not even sure they realize WMF is bigger than their Nepal community), I could stop stressing about my book contracts and deadlines (they’d be more impressed if I could color better than I could write), and they just let me rest (pretty sure trying to explain jet-lag to them would only make them jet-lagged). Like I said, one of the best conversations.
Later that night I popped open the internet machine and got a sweet message from my friend Laura. She sent a quote from Henri Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming:
“I have a friend who is so deeply connected to God that he can see joy where I expect only sadness. He travels much and meets countless people. When he returns home, I always expect him to tell me about the difficult economic situation of the countries he visited, about the great injustices he heard about, and the pain he had seen. But even though he is very aware of the great upheaval of the world, he seldom speaks of it. When he shares his experiences, he tells about the hidden joys he has discovered. He tells about a man, a woman, or a child who brought peace. He tells about little groups of people who are faithful to each other in the midst of all the turmoil. He tells about the small wonders of God.”
It’s the laughter of these children that reminds me of God’s nearness. These little girls give me hope. And it’s the contagious hope in their hearts that I know will heal the wounds of the oppressed.
Dipa, Rupa, Bhawani, Priya, Manju, Anju, Christine, Debra, Ruth, and Elibasa are the small wonders of God that will help save our world.
