I’m long overdue for an update. I’m not sure how to pack in a month and a half of World Race life into one 500 word blog but I’m going to do my best.
Africa is wild. It’s loud and crazy. People are curious and welcoming. They’re honest and unique. Life is simple and messy and lovely. It’s colorful. Living there for two months was all of the above.
Then we came to Latvia. And Saldus, Latvia is quiet and charming. It couldn’t have been more different. I finally could take a deep breath without inhaling dirt and smelling sweat. But after taking a long hot shower and scrubbing my feet for approximately an hour, I took a closer look. When I looked past the cobble stone streets and put down the pastry I saw something that actually took my breath away and my heart broke all over again.
Throughout the month I met with the sweetest pensioners whose only wish may have been to see their children and grandchildren once and a while. I made friends with a six year old who stole my heart before I learned her name. Her only wish was for her parents to come back for her. I listened to stories from high schoolers who are living with wounds so fresh I could feel it myself. I only met with a few people in their homes who were living in poverty and with physical disabilities.
In Africa the poverty and desperate need for Jesus was screaming at me. It was easy to see, every part of me knew. But Latvia almost tricked me. For a minute I got caught up in the world of hot water heaters and washing machines. The nice clothes and the event centers almost fooled me into thinking that the need was less urgent.
It’s true, the need is quieter here. But I was wrong it’s not any less urgent. This Easter season was the truest reminder of that. It may have only been a month in Saldus but I watched for a month, people living quietly with the weight of… something.
Some of our work was in a crisis center. Kids are brought there as a kind of temporary home. It’s not quite an orphanage and not really a foster home. And they wait. They wait for their parents to get their acts together and if that doesn’t happen, for a foster family to take them. The 20 or so kids we met with were all too aware of their situation.
One day I stepped into the home of a woman whose hurt was plastered on her face. She lived for her five children and worked her butt off to provide for them. From the looks of it, her hard work didn’t seem to be enough.
Pretty much everyone we met with in Saldus seemed to carry baggage and most of them don’t know the Lord. That’s the most heart wrenching and urgent thing I can think of. Most of them are just waiting to be noticed, hungry for attention and love. They’re just unwilling to ask for it.
So that was Latvia. Noticing people. Some days that meant drinking coffee with pensioners talking about politics and the good ol’ days. Some days it meant playing with kids.
Are there any people in your life who could use a second look? Their hopelessness might not be screaming at you but it’s still there.
(All photos were taken by my awesome teammate Kristy Ballengee)
