There is a children’s song based on Matthew 7:24-27 that goes “The wise man built his house upon a rock… The foolish man built his house upon the sand…” That’s good advice, but in Ventanilla, a district on the edge of Lima, Peru, building on the sand is the only option.
Last week, my team and I went to the outskirts of the outskirts of Ventanilla where people built their house into the side of a sand mountain. Here, nestled between the stacks of houses was a little church. Built with pallet wood walls, a tin roof, and a hard-packed feed-sack over sand floor, this little church was a glowing spot of joy shining the love of God to these desert people. At this church we helped build a kitchen onto the back of the building with more pallet wood and loved on the kids that came to the Christmas program they were putting on that week. It was hot and very sandy, but it was some of most fun I have had all Race.
The pastor, a good solid man of God with a huge heart for his people came to Ventanilla from Iquitos, a jungle city in Peru. From the very beginning, Pastor Roberto and his wife had their work cut out for them. In Ventanilla, fatherlessness, single-mothers, under-education, and poverty run rampant in a vicious cycle. This good man handles the present problem of his people with plans for a feeding program for the children whose single mothers leave them at home alone while they go down the mountain for work. But he also seeks to reach the deeper problem of fatherless and single mothers before it starts with a program for children and teens and good, solid teaching. This man’s heart and hard work for his people is inspiring to me.
One day last week, as I was standing outside the church on the side of this sandy mountain looking out over the “neighborhood” of houses built into the sand and beyond on the city of Ventanilla, all I could think about was sand. Sand was literally everywhere: in my shoes, in my pockets, in my hair, in the houses, in the church, in the air, everywhere. Sand is honestly a nuisance, and something that we would rather not have as a part of our lives. And as I thought about these people living up here on the side of the mountain, that’s probably what most people think of them, as insignificant as the sand. Their poverty and under-education is a problem that the government chooses not to look at. And when we see pictures of Peru at the airport or in travel guides, these houses crawling up the mountain is not what is shown. These people are just there, trying to make a living, as insignificant to the world as the sand they live with.
As I looked at all that sand, I was reminded that it is sand that we use to make glass: the glass in the lenses that I see through, in the wine glasses in five-star hotels, and in the windows covering skyscrapers. Sand is only insignificant when we think about the desert, but it is valuable when you think about what it can become. But in order for sand to become pure glass it has to go through a process of purification and transformation. The sand must be purified to remove every bit of dirt and imperfection and then heated to extreme temperatures in order to be transformed into glass.
I was reminded that the process of transforming sand into glass is not unlike the way that God transforms us. It takes a lot of purification and transformation for us to look like beautiful clear reflections of Jesus. The Lord patiently and persistently purges us from our sin and unholy ways of thinking, speaking, and living to remove everything unworthy from our hearts and then changes us into a completely new creation. Beautiful, isn’t it?
Unless you work in glass making, it’s pretty hard to imagine how sand can become glass. They are just so different from each other. It takes the perspective of a glassmaker to see the finished product that can come from sand. And it takes the perspective of God to see the finished work that we can become. When I see sand, I see sand. And when I see glass, I see glass. But when God sees sand, He also sees glass. And when He sees the mess I am, He also sees the beautiful creation I will become. So, when God sees the people living on the side of a sandy mountain that the world sees as insignificant as sand, He sees a people that He desires to make as pure, beautiful, and valuable as glass.
The night before we left, my team and I were asked to go up on stage after the church service to say our goodbyes and speak a word of encouragement over them. When it came to my turn, I shared with them a picture that the Lord had showed to me during the service. I saw the city of Lima with all the subsections of the city sprawling into the surrounding desert and I saw the fire of God starting on the very ends of the city and going toward the center. As I told the congregation, the Lord was starting a revival right there at that little church on the side of the mountain that was about to spread down into the city of Lima.
The people in this little church have given their lives to God and are letting Him transform them and the result is beautiful. They have moved beyond what their circumstances would have predicted into the fullness of a child of God. They are full of great joy, hope, and a reverence for God that sets them apart from their neighbors. They are no longer sand, but glass. And even though the world may still view them as sand, they are being purified in order to spread the fire of God down that little mountain, into Ventanilla, and finally into Lima itself.
It’s all about perspective. God’s perspective. What’s your perspective?
