Dwelling with Doers (and little yellow gnats)
Month 2 was All Squad Month in Bolivia which means that all 6 teams were serving together at the same ministry site, El Puente camp. Lines of colorful tents defined our living space; that and a makeshift kitchen of two stovetops and a trash bin where we made our clean water. I was dwelling with doers. Living among dreamers. Saints. Sinners. Screw ups. Givers. Warriors. Serving alongside individuals that are not satisfied with walking through life trying to figure it out on their own. Not satisfied with just knowing about Jesus but wanting, craving, to be aware of His presence and craving to know the beautiful, let’s-make-disciples Jesus intimately so that we can be more like Him. So part of our ministry this month was simply living in community together, pushing and growing each other while serving.
The other part of our ministry this month was working on projects around the camp such as hauling rocks out of the river, laying cobblestone, cleaning bathrooms/cabins, painting, and using machetes to take care of the weeding. Rockin the tent and outdoor manual labor life this month, we learned a big lesson from lots of tiny yellow biting gnats. We were soon covered in literally hundreds of bites each and the itching was insatiable. They even got through the layers we would pile on despite the heat of the sun during the work day.I’d like to say that because we are on a mission trip that we never complained. That we never wished we were anywhere (cuddled up in the air conditioning perhaps) but it’s not true.
Part of this Race and this journey is learning to choose joy. There were grumbles for sure but you know, they didn’t last. Instead of talking/complaining, people got to doing. Somewhere down the rock assembly line someone was singing. Or asking what people dreamed about if they could do anything in the whole world. Or sometimes it just looked like someone “accidently” dropping a rock close to someone and a big splash party breaking out. Sometimes just saying, “Jesus” and letting that be enough. And not the exasperated version people tend to use but the sweet sound that gives Him glory despite circumstances and rejuvenates us. Amen!
Another lesson learned was the example set by the camp director, Hermano (Brother) Lucho. The most joyful man we may have run across so far on the Race. He shows us that you really can see Jesus shining through someone and we are humbled by his servant hood. He was led to take over this camp and now, to see his wife and kids just once a week, he travels almost 3 hours up the mountain. He simply said “yes”, works diligently, and invites others into the light that Jesus is inside of him. He doesn’t dwell on the comforts or ease of life he passes on to take on this calling, he just sees all the beauty of creation, campers, and community members surrounding him. He even established a church on campus- the congregation wasn’t more than 4-8 people in the time we were there yet he serves them and leads them with everything he’s got.
Here in the jungle of Bolivia, there is a shrilling, piercing, cawing that can be heard, er, can’t be ignored, every morning from the birds. It’s enough to bring you out of your deep sleep. With a smile on his face, Hermano Lucho told us that when he hears those birds, he imagines them singing, “Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful!” Wow. What sounds or “noise” surrounds you every day? People complaining about bug bites? J Traffic? A pestering boss? Imagine what their Creator meant for us to hear from it all or maybe just use your imagination to change the negative connation those noises carry into something full of joy and energy and positivity. And on top of that, let’s all try to make a joyful noise… I was humbled by that lesson this month.
A friend, the same one who I shared a 2-person tent with all month (Thanks, Court!), lent me a book called Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne and in it he says,
“We are people who shine, who burn up the darkness of this old world with the light that dwells within us. And perhaps the world will ask what in the world passed through here.”
That is the anthem, the desire, I sense from this squad I shared my life with this month. That we would carry a light like Hermano Lucho. A light that is undeniably not of us, and only Jesus. That as we go our separate ways into the rest of this Race, that people would see Jesus and that light and wonder what whirlwind of love-put-into-action, grace, enthuastiam, and compassion just swept through.
