How many of us actually like taking out our garbage on garbage day? How many even like to tie up the ends of a full trash bag and place in on the street corner for that big trash compactor to come pick it up? I can tell you, not many, if that. This idea was put to the true test this month.
Well, when one of my teammates said she loved the ministry of the dump, I was taken aback at first. I was surprised how God would lead us to the local dump that was located right around the corner from our house, but at the same time I knew I would experience something like this on the race. I had seen videos of people who worked in the dumps and read blogs of what they did, or what they saw, however, I might have never comprehended the power of God’s will in leading me or my team to the same places.
Well, anyways, I found myself staring the dump right in the face one morning. My ministry for the month was doing administration paperwork for the Adventures in Missions Swaziland office, but this morning I had no work to do. One thing led to another, one step by one step, and there it was… the dump. The dump was now only a few yards down a hill from me. The thoughts of “What am I doing?” ran through my head. “How am I going to do this?” Not even I can say that I enjoyed obeying my parents day after day to empty the trash. My stomach lurched if I even smelled a rotten egg, let alone an area as big as a football field filled with much worse than a rotten egg.
The time at the dump consisted of greeting new and old friends, sitting in their “organized” trash piles that were ready to sell to awaiting recycling companies, and helping them with their “treasures”. But the biggest thing we did was waiting to hear the trash trucks roll into the dumpsite. We walked briskly up to the trash pile to…dive in. That’s right. Dive in.
The trucks would pull the lever and dump bags upon bags upon bags of garbage and 20-25 people swarmed it before it even fell completely off the truck. The dumpsters-as I affectionately call these people- are locals who work at the dump searching through the trash for some “treasures” worth selling. They will search for clear plastics, cardboard, unbroken glass bottles, can pop caps, and other odds and ends. This, however, is not a government mandated, well-paid job. No, these people each have their own story, but in a special way, they choose to do this hard job. They choose to search through someone else’s garbage to find a new treasure. They choose to work long days in the filth to receive that small payment at the end of the month to send it home to family who needs food on the table.
These people showed me a small glimpse of my heart through God’s eyes.
I may look at my heart the same way I looked at the dump at first. I may see all the garbage and the stench of the sin in my life, of the bad choices, and of the mishaps here and there. I may think that no one would ever want to sift through my junk. But here is where I needed a visit to my own dump.
God is just like those dumpsters in my heart. Before I can even unload all my junk into a trash pile he dives in. He starts at work sifting through all my trash to find my treasures. Just like those dumpsters know there is something in those trash bags, God knows there is treasure in my heart. He doesn’t see the trash. He doesn’t turn in disgust at the smell. God charges for me, and you, to dive into that treasure hunt in your heart.
I still stand in shock as I have trash smells permeating the very space I am sitting in, but then I remember that God is sitting here with me covering me with the aroma of his grace and his presence. God has chosen to dive into my junk and find the treasure that rests in me.
