I am in a beautiful lovely place. To arrive at my location of Quiche,Guatemala I got to ride on a bus with my windows open and smile at the mountains surrounding me and all the new sights, sounds and smells. People rush through the streets and there is a plethora of motorbikes that weave in and out of the trucks and busses carrying people from one place to another. It was a grand entrance to a unique country.
This month has been stretching and wonderful. My team has been tearing down old foundations so a wonderful man and pastor can open a recreation center for the locals. In tearing down the physical walls with the sweat and the sun it has pushed my emotional walls to the surface. Walls I buried a long time ago. God is beautiful in that way. Always working on us and digging in to bring us back to how He originally designed us. It is definitely not easy, but so worth it because as I become more like Him I find more joy in myself, in others around me, and in the things surrounding me that I so easily miss.
Things like the old man I met today on the bus.
My team and I somehow managed to squeeze ourselves into the back of the van, something that is always a feat in Guatemala, to give ourselves a break from our usual mile walk to the city square. As we waited for other passengers to load into the remaining space I automatically became captivated by a man entering the van. He braced his wrinkled hand on the seat in front of me and slowly lowered himself down with care. As he sat I only glanced at him a moment ,but in that small window of time his countenance revealed to me that there was something more to this man. I ventured to start a conversation with a simple “How are you doing?” here translated as “Como Estas?”
It opened a window I never expected. This old man in his straw hat poured out his heart to us, and though we couldn’t understand the language we could pick up enough. My teammate Paula translated bits and pieces as he revealed to us his hardships to total strangers. He told us about how his wife had died three months ago, and you could see the sadness in his eyes as he spoke about her. He then went on to tell us that he was leaving the hospital because his son had gone in to have his stomach pumped for alcohol poisoning, but didn’t make it. As he talked I could see each of my teammates hearts growing towards this man. We were connected. My team and I come from a different culture and language ,but no matter where you go people are people.We feel the same love and the same hurt ,though it comes in different degrees and different ways for each of us. For a brief moment we had the opportunity to join this man amidst his pain and grief. We prayed for him right then and there in the van as people piled into the seats.
We all remained silent the rest of the ride. Sometimes when God places a moment in front of you, a man, a soul ,you will find that silence holds more power then any words you could say. I noticed a tear run down Megan’s cheek as we finished praying and knew God had done something big in all of us. We had touched a heart, and he had touched ours. That was all.
