Friday, 13 October 2006

vasile iovu.

this is vasile. he's the wani of moldova.
vasile died this past week. he was 18.
a year ago, i wrote a story about vasile for the first sweet sleep
newsletter. going back and reading it now, i see just how incredible and big our God is.
i know that at this very second, vasile is with jesus. maybe he and bill wilson are talking about all those things we don't get to know about in full on this earth.

i was just thinking last night, what if god didn't send us to moldova? would vasile be with jesus now? that is not said to credit us, but to praise god because he sends out shepherds to gather the lost. once again, ezekiel 34 proves true. i remember when vasile gave his heart and life to jesus. i remember the joy on his face.

thank you jesus for blessing this world with vasile. thank you for making his joy complete by returning him unto your side. the Lord is our shepherd.

A Phoenix from the Ashes: Vasile's Story
written by Ashley Lovell

Shivering alone on the top step of a dark and empty porch, the cold Moldovan
air enveloping his thinly clothed frame, Vasile, a 16-year old boy who has
been aged out of the orphanage, waits for his grandparents to come home. He
is waiting in the cold because, while they let him live in their house, they
do not consider him valuable enough to have his own key. Adjusting his cap,
his hand runs over the raised scars covering his scalp, reminding him of the
abuse inflicted on him by his parents. As he gets older, the unjust pieces
of his life come into the light and expose themselves, crying out for a
listening ear, a second chance, a saving grace.
In the world Vasile lives in, chances don’t come often. Choice is an
infrequent experience when you are an orphan suffering from a disease, or
just the idea of a disease, called epilepsy. Vasile is one of thousands of
kids perhaps diagnosed incorrectly with this condition, making the roadblock
between where he is and where he’s trying to go that much more bulging.
Being an orphan is one thing in Moldovan society, but an orphan with
epilepsy might as well turn to alcohol and drugs and sexual immorality
because this is the destination their society expects them to arrive at.
But Vasile is different. He’s been forced to be a man in a boy’s body. He’s
chosen to live in an orphanage rather than with the people who raised him,
people not deserving to be called parents for this might suggest love or
provision or encouragement—things Vasile never received from his childhood
companions. Enduring abuse that left his head scarred and disfigured, as
well as surgeries that left him even more insecure about his physical
appearance and personal value, Vasile has taken those things he was never
exposed to— love, gentleness, responsibility, life—and has somehow infused
his world with them.
He’s funny. He’s a leader. He’s compassionate. He plays with small children
with care and tenderness. He’s wise and hungry for God. He asks questions.
He thinks through his faith. He views it as the most precious “second
chance” he could have ever received, and he respects his God in a personal
and faith- filled way. He speaks truth in hard situations. He lives by a
moral standard based on Biblical principles. How? How does life come from
death? How does a phoenix rise from the ashes?
Vasile is one of Sweet Sleep’s first bed builders, and has already been
involved in building more than 350 beds for his new employer. A more
tangible “second chance”, he’s thankful and respectful and living out the
fullness that such an opportunity means for his stigmatized, restrained
past. His sponsor of two years, Parker Bradley says with confidence, “Vasile
has never been given many chances, so when he gets one he does really well.
He’ll be an excellent teacher for kids coming up in the next few years.” But
for now, Vasile needs his own mentor. “He’s a Timothy. He needs a Paul,”
said Parker. “Someone to teach him how to be an effective Christian. He
wants it, he’s just never had anyone walking beside him, showing him what it
looks like.”
Vasile is a precious part of my own heart for Moldova. Every time I visit
his country, he makes me a bookmark or a t-shirt, or he fishes through his
few belongings, searching for a gift to give me. Something tangible. Little
does Vasile know that the untouchable gifts of joy and love and inspiration
he provides for my life are worthwhile and abundant. But he’s beginning to
realize you take the tangible things of God while you have access to them,
but when they are out of your physical reach, God is not. He doesn’t leave
us alone on the cold, dark porch of His presence. He’s inside of us, mending
our wounds and turning our pain into joy, our scars into beautiful reminders
of God’s healing in broken places.
The opportunity for Vasile to work for Sweet Sleep doesn’t come without a
struggle. Under the Moldovan government, it is nearly impossible for someone
diagnosed with epilepsy to be eligible for any type of employment. In the 10
months he has worked for Sweet Sleep, two battles for his employment rights
have occurred. As you read this, Sweet Sleep is again struggling to keep
Vasile employed. Pray for Vasile. Pray his chances are not taken from him
again. Pray for those in Moldova who will make this decision. Pray for God
to send a Paul into Vasile’s life to guide him. Pray the label of being an
orphan with epilepsy will not convince him he is unworthy. And, praise God
for using something as simple as the opportunity to build beds to show
Vasile God's love gives us all the ability to rise from the ashes.

1 comment:

Richard D. Jenkins said...

My heart breaks and rejoices with you and all those Vasile loved! A beautiful life is just that ... a beautiful life to be treasured forever!