Last night, after learning that we have been in Nicaragua for going on 18 years, a first-time delegation member commented “Wow! You must love your work!”
In truth, if we had all the money we needed then it would be easier to love our work. The work would be more encouraging and the choices we have to make would be much, much easier choices. It’s so hard to say “No.”
Saying “No” is one of the most difficult things that we have to do. We can say “I’ll see what we can do” and we do, but it most often leads to a postponed “No.”
A clinic patient comes in and needs surgical equipment that costs a thousand dollars to get much-needed surgery and I have to say “No,” because the money the one patient needs will pay for medicines for many patients, or even pay the doctors’ salaries. It is painful for me to say “No” and it is devastating for that patient.
I often think of Jesus’ words “do unto others and you would have them do unto you.” I think of those words when I say “No,” and if I am in a good place I silently ask for forgiveness. More times than not, I just feel guilty and then angry. Angry that I cannot provide all that people need. Angry that money is always an issue. And truthfully, angry that the poor ask for what I cannot give…or at least for what I feel like I cannot give.
Over the past five years, the Center has invested hundreds of thousands of dollars in the Genesis Cooperative yarn spinning project, and most recently has invested in a temporary work solution for them while they continue to wait on spinning equipment: we set up a cattle feed operation to make feed using agricultural by-products like sesame and cottonseed which will give the Genesis members work half time. In June, we agreed with Genesis that they would begin work on the cattle feed once they finished their bathrooms and break room and got their city water hooked up – they’ve been working on those “finishing touches” to their factory for more than two years. The cattle feed operation is ready to go, and Genesis still hasn’t finished, so we’ve hired the seasonal cotton gin workers to make cattle feed until Genesis finishes their bathrooms. Then, today, they came and asked for bus fare to attend a marketing training. One. More. Thing.
When we ran shelters in Statesville, NC, in the 1980s, we had a friend who ran a home for the homeless in Atlanta. He would speak about the Divine No…when you just have to suck up all the good intentions and say “No,” then you say “No” with humility and with an act of forgiveness.
Again, on my good days, I can do that. On my bad days, I want to rail at the Divine and yell, “Why don’t YOU say ‘Yes’ more so I can say ‘Yes’! Help us find the money! And while I’m at it…give that man who accepted our $150,000 and didn’t deliver equipment some kind of bad rash in the most sensitive of all places!”
Saying “No” is the hardest thing we do…it is the most painful because we know that it is we who do not suffer. -- Kathleen