Waking up in the morning to the sound of a sheep bahhing just outside of our stucko walls that barely meets the tin roof, I am definitely not in the United States anymore.
Welcome Alajualita, Costa Rica, a small underprivileged area of Alajuala, a suburb of San Jose. We are in a place where drugs are rampant, unemployment is through the roof (as high as 65%! In the rest of the country, it’s only 6%), and poverty is more evident than I’ve ever seen before. Even the poor communities back home seem “better” than the middle class barrios (neighborhoods) here. In the midst of this is where 6:8 Ministries is placed, building relationships in the communities and seeking to meet the needs of the people here in order to be able to give them the most important thing of all: Jesus Christ.
Yesterday, a group of us had the opportunity to go to a very poor barrio, Verberna, to do some food distribution as a Feeding Center for the families there, mainly to the kids. There were probably about 50 kids that came out from these tin metal shacks to get the food we served them. 6:8 Ministries is still building relationships there, and earning the people’s trust, and serving the kids food and playing with them is the best way to do so in this area and culture. It is very evident to me just how relational it is here, even in the way people speak and refer to things (For instance, they don’t say, “We don’t do ministry there,” but instead they say, “We don’t have any relationships there,” leaving room for the possibility of building relationships for the hopes of ministry).
I’ve done homeless ministry before, walking the streets of Chicago, going to Lower Wacker Drive, where a lot of homeless people sleep in cardboard boxes. But this was a completely different experience. It was very eye opening, walking through the dirt paths with sewage water running down the sides, and tin shack houses crowded next to each other.
But the thing was, I didn’t feel pity or disgust for them. Not that I didn’t have compassion on them, because how could you not be moved to compassion in the midst of this. But more so, I felt honored and blessed to be here, to have the privilege to be allowed to walk through their streets with these incredible people, living a very different life than what I have lived. I don’t feel like the big rich white American male who’s come to help these poor people; instead, I am humbled to be able to be here serving and loving them.
Today, I got to be part of an all-Spanish worship service this morning at church, Iglesia Celebracion (Celebration Church). It was an incredible experience, being able to worship with them, singing worship to our God through One Spirit. I am by no means fluent in Spanish, but I sang passionately, with all my heart and soul, worshipping alongside my brothers and sisters down here, and remembering you all at home too, who were worshipping at the same time. They did translate the message for us, which was a huge blessing.
I love you all! I bless you, and I thank you for joining me on this incredible journey.
