Love.
It’s a word that is so often overused and misunderstood. People love their
clothes, cars, food, favorite sports teams, movies, music. We love
money and places and pets.
But do
we love people? Do I love people? I mean really love
them?
God
put that question in front of me last night, and it wasn’t as easy to
answer as I thought.
You
see, last night was our last night working with Pan & Chocolate,
a ministry at a large church here in San Salvador, El Salvador.
Three times a week, they load up trucks and cars and buses and head
out to different spots around the city to hand out bread and coffee
to people living on the streets. We have gone with them several
times, and the particular place that we have gone to the most is an
intersection downtown, filled with plastic wrappers and bottles,
leftover food, piles of garbage, and people. Adults and children are
waiting there for us, expectantly, with their beds consisting of just
a blanket thrown on the concrete sidewalk claiming their spot for the
night just a few feet away.
first night we drove up, we saw kids run from the piles of trash they
were rummaging in towards us, knowing they would get a better meal
that night from us than from the trash. I went over and joined the
group working with the kids (they have a special section marked off
just for kids to be sure that they always get something), and I
watched as a group from the church shared a Bible story with them,
sang a couple songs, and then I helped as they began handing out the
food and drinks to them.
one point, one of the security guards (there are quite a few, as this
is not the safest place in town), pulled me back as a boy dressed in
five layers of oversized clothes who looked to be about 13 years old
stumbled into the group. The guard motioned to me that this boy was
high and to be careful around him. I took one look at this boy, and
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him for the rest of the night. He was
clearly high. His eyes were glazed over, and his hands shook
randomly. He didn’t seem to be able to keep his bearings or know
exactly where he was at. He had a small juice bottle in his hand
that I found out was not filled with juice. I realized as he kept
bringing it up to his mouth and nose that it was filled with glue,
and he was sniffing the fumes to numb his senses and his brain and
the pain he was dealing with. We were only allowed to be there for
about 15 minutes because the church didn’t want things to get too
dangerous, but as we were being rushed out to leave, I found out the
boy’s name was Emerson, and I prayed with him quickly.
were disappointed that we didn’t get to spend more time with the
people there, so we asked to have more time with them. So the next
week when we went back, we went through the same routine, but this
time, the church let us stay longer and actually sit down and talk
with the people there. I found Emerson again and sat down with him
for about a half an hour. I listened as he told me that he was
actually 16 and about his family and how he wanted to visit the
United States. His eyes were glazed over again, and I could smell
the glue fumes as he brought the bottle to his face every minute or
two. But I could also see a gentleness in his eyes and a peaceful
spirit. As other kids were running around with knives and
threatening other kids with them, Emerson would just walk away, not
wanting to be involved in their fighting and threats. As we got
ready to leave, he walked me and every other girl with us to the
truck and made sure we got in safely.
we went back last night, I walked up to the kids’ group, and my eyes
scanned the line of children looking for Emerson. I saw him sitting
at the end, and when our eyes met, immediately his face lit up in a
huge smile, and he waved for me to come over and sit with him. I
walked over and sat beside him and spent the rest of the time with
him listening as he told me the same stories, with the same glazed
look in his eyes, and the same glue fumes hitting my nostrils every
minute or two. He couldn’t believe it when I told him that I
remembered some of the things that he had told me before, and when I
asked him for a hug when we left, he was shocked. As we drove away
last night, my heart was hurting, knowing that I will probably never
see Emerson again, never get another chance to show him love, to show
him that there is a Father that loves him more than he can every
realize, who can heal his pain so that he doesn’t have to numb it
with glue fumes.
After
we left, we met up with one of the pastors at the church, and he
thanked us for our ministry with them this month. He told us how
much we had impacted them and shown them what it meant to really love
people like God does. He said that he was blown away the first time
we went with them, and we sat down with the people and talked to them
and looked them in the eyes and prayed for them. He couldn’t believe
that we actually put our hands on them to pray or gave them hugs. He
said that they had never done that before; usually, they just go hand
the food to people and leave.
When
he said that I was sad and convicted at the same time. Sad for all
the opportunities this church had missed to really love people, and
convicted that so often I do the same thing. This ministry is doing
what God tells us to-giving food to the hungry. But something has
been missing. Please don’t misunderstand me–I don’t want to make
this church sound bad in any way–they are doing a lot of great
things, and they obviously have a heart to help needy people, as
shown by this ministry. But they forgot something that I think all
of us, myself included, forget a lot of times.
Love
is selfless. Love is preferring someone else about yourself. Love
is sitting in trash and urine so that you can pray with the kid who
calls that home. Love is giving a hug to the homeless man who smells
and is covered in dirt. Love has no conditions, no exceptions. Love
is up close and personal. It’s hard to really love someone when you
keep them at a distance. Sure, sometimes it’s going to be hard or
uncomfortable or even dangerous. But God doesn’t ask us to live an
easy life or to be comfortable or safe.
just asks us to love.
We’re
fighting a battle, a spiritual battle, and over the last few months,
I’ve seen a lot of the battlefields-the street children, the dump
workers, the drug addicts, the poverty and pain and suffering that’s
in the world. God has been teaching me so much about how to fight
those battles, that He is greater than any of those things, and He
has given us power and authority to fight against those things.
last night, He taught me that the greatest weapon we have is love.
Nothing can defeat that. We just have to be willing to get over
ourselves, get out of our comfort zones, and see people the way God
sees them, through His eyes–eyes of love.
I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am
nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body
to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing…Love never fails.”
