Heaven in a Dump
One of the outreaches we did while in Honduras was visiting the city dump to bring lunch to the people who live/work there. We were warned about the smell, but nothing can really prepare you for the intense, putrid smell of rotting garbage. In fact, I am pretty sure that every time I smell old garbage from here on out, I’ll think of that dump. It's already happened a few times.
So beyond the smell, the pure contrast of the green, lush mountains as the backdrop for this giant, gross garbage heap was enough to leave you puzzled — how can something so nasty sit in the midst of all this natural beauty? (I bet sometimes God wonders that about our lives and the stuff we pollute it with! I digress.)
As we were preparing to go to the dump, some of my friends were asking God for 'prophetic prayer' — asking God for some kind of sign or hint as to what they should look for/pray for when they get there. So I began to ask God for a hint, too. The first thing I thought of was cute little girls. But then I figured — that's too easy, that's MY thinking, not God’s. So my next thought was to ask myself, "Well- what’s the opposite of a cute, little, girl?” And then it hit me: a dirty, old, man! haha
As we unloaded the bus and someone began to bless the food, a couple of my teammates asked me to go with them to invite some people working (collecting the recyclables from the trash heaps) to come eat. The first guy we find to talk to is this… yep, you guessed it: dirty old man! With a crazy afro & gold glitter splattered on his face, to boot!
We ask 'Perry' if we can pray for him. Turns out he believes in God and thanks us for our prayers. We chat for a moment and head over towards the food distribution. When we get closer, we notice that some of the girls have busted out their guitars and are playing some upbeat praise & worship music.
Before we can make it to the food line, Perry jumps into the circle surrounding the music and starts to dance. I love to dance anywhere, anytime; so I jump in and Perry and I start a dance party right there in the middle of the dump! A few more people join in, and there we were: jumping, dancing, singing, laughing, and praising God — all in the midst of a giant garbage heap.
As I looked out towards the green mountains and the brightly shining sun, it hit me: this is what it's supposed to look like, finding joy in the midst of all the garbage. I realized in that moment, dancing in the dump, 'this just might be a little slice of heaven.'
Heaven is dancing in a dump, you ask?
Well, the mere fact that we could smile and enjoy the experience nad get past the smell itself, totally indicates that God was there with us. My mama didn't raise me to play in a dump, but God set those moments apart to show me joy beyond circumstances.
I wish I could tell you that it was all twirls and smiles and then we parted ways, but when the dancing ended, things took a turn for the worst. It turns out that with all the dancing distractions, Perry hadn't eaten lunch. And now it was all gone. I felt so bad. And Perry was quite upset that there wasn't any food left. He asked me for money to buy lunch and I honestly didn't bring any with me, so I couldn't help him out. We parted ways with him storming off. I got back on the bus with a broken heart. How terrible that we were so happy and then both parted ways, each so disappointed.
I have been reading Seth Barnes' book Kingdom Dreams (Seth is the Founder of AIM & The World Race) and he talks about the phases of a Kindgom Journey (aka: the trip I am on).
He says that phase 1 is "Abandonment" (leaving everything behind: Check!). Phase 2 is being "Broken": getting to a place where you can't fix things. Where you feel like something is broken beyond repair and it sucks just to think about it. And that's what began happening inside me when we left the dump.
Why?
That dump isn’t going anywhere. The people who live/work there do not want to change the system. They make their money as middle-men and they don't want things to change. They like that the Gringos bring food, but their problems aren't going to be solved by us and our beans & rice – their problems might not even be solved by the God that we came to tell them about. And we certainly aren't going to have enough food for all of them, every time they’re hungry. Perry got the brunt of that short-ended stick that afternoon.
But none of this means that the God we came to tell them about doesn't love them. None of this means that the God we were worshipping in our dump-yard-dances isn't all-powerful or all-loving. Just because the problems aren't solved doesn't mean that God isn't there. It just means that we live in a broken world. And God is allowing me to be broken, so that He can use me better.
You see, if God let me serve Perry lunch that afternoon, then I'd have left feeling like, 'Wow– I really did good today!' But instead, I felt like I made the most of a crappy situation (dancing in a dump), but what I brought to the table wasn't nearly enough (literally).
The God that I serve loves Perry, me, and everybody else –and He wants to teach me that He is in control –not me. His ways are not my ways (I'd have packed just one more cup of beans & rice!) and His timing is not my timing.
As Seth Barnes puts it in Kingdom Dreams, wild horses need to be broken before their owners can ride them: before they can perform at their best. And so God allows us to be broken before He can use us fully. If we feel like we're still in control, we'll try and steer for sure. It's our nature. But once we wave the white flag and say 'Nope- can't fix this one. Or that one. Or that one. In fact, I give up! Just take the reigns!' Then the real show begins.
And this show is just getting started.
