As I’ve explained through my last two blogs, this month probably ranks number one as the most intense ministry month. This week our whole squad has been doing ministry together. The next two weeks, we’ll be split up into our teams.
Monday we went to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. The front gate opened to a tiny hallway where a young man sat with two women and a baby girl. Perhaps one was his mother and the other was his sister or girlfriend. It was obvious that he was being admitted to the rehab. I watched as the older woman hugged and kissed him goodbye perhaps hoping the next time she sees him his life will be different.
We stood in the hallway for about 20 minutes while the director gave us a lot of info about the center. Then we shuffled into a smoke infested room where about 20 men were seated. The variety of their ages astounded me. Some were young, probably 12 or 13 while others could have been as old as 50. The set up of the room kinda looked like a mini church – pews lined the center of the room and a pulpit like thing was at the front.
Once the men realized how many of us there were, they moved so we could have seats. We began the meeting with the Lifehouse, “Everything” skit. The language barrier makes understanding this skit a little harder, but after they were done, one of our Spanish-speaking squad mates translated the meaning behind it all.
The most moving moment at the AA rehab was when one of our boys that lives at Zion’s Gate, Roni, stood up to share his testimony. Roni was in this exact rehab a few years ago. In his story he even alluded to the window that’s now barred shut that he escaped out of. What a testament to God’s faithfulness and protection over his life and the redemption he was able to walk through as he stood boldly in the place where a few years ago he stood with his life a mess. But still in this place, the emotion overwhelms me.
Tuesday we all loaded up on the bus and headed to the dump. As many of you may remember, the first half of my first month on the race I spent in a dump in Tondo, Philippines. I was expecting to experience many of the same things at this dumpsite, but as we drove up, I realized, things weren’t the same. In Tondo, throughout the two weeks we were there, not one person asked for any item that I had. Here, safety was a huge concern. I had brought my camera with me, and we were told to keep it on the bus. My string bracelets and silly bands on my arms were a hot commodity and many people said “regalome” which means, “gift it to me”.
But here, I realized the circumstances of these people’s lives are what breaks my hearts the most. Many of them only work at the dump and don’t live there. In Tondo, the people worked at the dump and lived in it. The battle of choice wars in my mind – if these people aren’t living here, why are they choosing to live here? As I wrestled with these questions, a precious little girl ran up with a dirty hat over her head and an earring that she had found in the rubbish earlier that day dangled from the front of it. Oh, the emotion.
Wednesday we visited a prison where two major gangs, MS13 and 18 are incarcerated as well as other juveniles who have committed various crimes. Prison here is very different. Delinquents roam about freely and there isn’t a concept of cells. They do stay in rooms, but many of them stay together. The gangs are separated into different areas.
As women, we went to visit the younger girls. We taught them our stomp routine and danced around with them to their own music. And then we went to meet up with guys in the MS13 side. A few of our guys shared their testimonies and they performed the Everything skit again.
As we left, the Gang 18 was my last image – as they hung through the bars of their area, begging for whatever he had on us that could be of value to them. Some of our guys gave their shoes to a few of the boys. Emotion overwhelmed me again as we got back on the bus and headed home.
Each day brings a new experience – a new break in my heart for this country. A new awareness of how truly broken our world is and its need for Jesus. I’ve come to realize, I’m emotionally exhausted. But it’s in this exhaustion that Poppa has been so sweet to my soul – refreshing me daily to dive in deeper to whatever ministry presents itself for that day. I can’t avoid this exhaustion though. The only thing I can do is pray for God’s mighty hand to continue to send His spirit into these places and these children’s lives that so desperately need Him. I may be exhausted, but I still live a very blessed life, while others are living in the street, or in a prison trapped from the world. I may be emotionally exhausted, but their exhaustion lies in other things.
