The later part of this month, for the past 2 weeks, we have been going door to door. Most have been church members but we have reached a few non believers as well. We go into each home, introduce ourselves, give them an encouraging word, pray for them and then head to the next house. The houses we enter are the size of a large bedroom or small living room back in the States. The walls are made of mud and the floors of dirt. Most homes do not have any windows and the only light coming in is through their front door. The “wall” separating the living room from the bedroom is a bed sheet. None of the houses have electricity except this one really nice home was using a car battery to power their one overhead light. And when I say really nice home, the very few we walk in and say to ourselves “wow what a beautiful home!” wouldn’t even make it into the projects in America.
This continued for about 2 weeks leading up to today. House after house we were crammed inside their small mud hut, occasionally using their bathroom far from the house which was only a hole in the ground covered by 3 mud/stick walls and occasionally a tarp as a door. I continued to greet kids with holes in their clothes, sit on couches made of wood and no cushions, look at the outdated calendars as wall decorations, straining my eyes as they adjusted to walking to the dark home and I continued to be blessed again and again by warm smiles, firm handshakes, and handfuls of food given to us. The past 3 days we have drove about 1 ½ hrs from our home to what they call the interior villages. The days have been long, the motorcycle rides have become painful, and last night it took 2 ½ hours to ride home after the rain due to fishtailing in the mud. Towards the end of today a huge dark cloud was overhead and it was thundering and lightening. I told our contact what time it was and suggested we hurry home before we have another ride home like yesterday. He agreed so he convinced the other pastors to call it a day.
When we arrived home I was exhausted beyond belief. I officially reached my max and as this month rolls to an end I am thankful tomorrow is our last day of ministry because I’m worn out. Body aching from the bike ride and exhausted we arrived home and began to share our day with our other teammates who had stayed back sick. Then a teammate who was with us for ministry today said something that would officially break me. She explained how she had been thinking all day of who is she to be entitled to anything, who is she to want to go home when she is tired, and who is she to complain? And BAM it hit me full force. She hit right on all the things that I have been trying my hardest to ignore. 7 full months hit me in my core and I lost it. Everything I have seen since the beginning of the race finally came to the surface, things I had just taken a mental note of finally completely wrecked me.
Walking into homes smaller than living rooms…mud homes with dirt floors. Walking down a dirt road to get to the bathroom which is just a hole in the ground while people back home are vacationing in a house with 7 bathrooms. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a child without holes in their clothes or without being covered in dirt. I can’t even tell you how many kids I’ve seen walk around barefoot on roads covered with cow poop and trash. People living in garbage dumps, kids picking things out of the trash to eat or play with, kids with running noses and flies landing on them, kids sitting in dirt without any bottoms on, skinny little kids with big bellies, moms with 10 kids and no husband, people with nothing giving me everything. My heart hurts and I don’t understand why things are the way they are. No words can even begin to do my thoughts justice. All I know is I’m broken. Completely wrecked.
