I was planning on writing a different blog today, but kept procrastinating all day long. (Reading excellent books and watching YouTube videos with teammates will do that to you.) But as it turns out, that one just needs a little more time to percolate.
If that actually means what I think it means.
Simmer? Maybe simmer is a better word.
Anyways, what came to mind instead was a musing on physical poverty. I think part of the reason this was at the forefront of my thoughts was the number of recent natural disasters in areas I’m connected to. Massive hail storms near my hometown, flooding in my state, an earthquake in Ecuador. There’s a lot that can happen in this world to deprive us of our stuff.
But there’s some people who’ve never had that stuff to begin with.
Our second week in Tarija, we spent most of our ministry time at the private school affiliated with the church, located just next door. It’s actually an elementary school in the morning and a secondary school in the afternoon. The school’s director asked us, on the very first day, to be in prayer for provision as they’re trying to buy land to expand. Sure enough, in some of the classrooms, desks haphazardly litter the aisles or are placed right in front of the classroom door, because there’s simply not enough space in their current building to house all the students.
Pressing even more on my heart, however, are some of the home visits we made this past week. Most of the people we’ve met in the city seem to have a very comfortable lifestyle. Besides the water cutting out (I’m guessing due to poor infrastructure) and the cars being, on average, older than those at home, life in Tarija is good.
You go a little ways outside the city and see a different story.
We met one family – mother, daughter, and son – who are members of the third church we’ve worked with. (Yes, it’s been an exhausting month.) They have maybe a two room house for them, the father, 2 more sons, and a grandmother. I think they own the land they’re living on, but they don’t have enough money to build a proper house for their family.
Another day, we went a ways into the country to what the locals have described as a “brand new neighborhood.” The road is unpaved, buses don’t run that far out, and there’s not a single store to be seen.
The church has a “mission” congregation that meets at a house in the area. The couple that lives there – I imagine the driving force behind the congregation, as they both speak Quechua, the indigenous language that most of the neighbors speak – are very comfortable. But some of the families we visited are living more of a subsistence existence.
It’s strange, then, to encourage or evangelize. Coming from a developmental standpoint, I can’t justify the focus on spiritual growth when physical needs aren’t being met. It’s easy for me to spend this time seeking career goals and self-awareness, knowing that I have a house and car and all the Mac and Cheese I want at home. But if your family’s survival is uncertain: what’s the point?
All I have to offer is a smile and the knowledge, from Matthew 6, that God values each of us more than anything else, and He wants us to trust Him to provide. He doesn’t want us to worry about our tomorrows.
But I find myself worrying about their tomorrows. I find myself wishing, again, that we’d had more time with ministries that worry about day-to-day life: the grocery deliveries for widows in Romania, water filters for families in Malawi, promoting education and leadership in Ecuador.
I’m tired of not being in a place long enough to find out how I could change the poverty that I see. I’m tired of not working with ministries who want to develop people’s economic prospects as much as their spiritual ones. (I’m also really tired of this culture’s inability to communicate anything to our team correctly and/or in a timely manner. Prayers for this last week, please!)
Which, I guess, means I’m ready to live a couple of years in the U.S. without too much complaining, until I can get another degree/figure out how I could move to another country for longer than a month 🙂
Until I can figure out how I can make the world change.
