We are walking door to door, sharing tracts about how to walk with God, handing out fliers for the children’s programs coming up, and praying with people as they allow. Walking involves trying not to trip on rocks or step on poop. Around me I see cows eating grass, people walking their pigs, dogs mating, chickens pecking the ground, children sitting next to mothers who are washing clothes.
I have to wear my jacket all the time here in Peru. My hands feel like icicles. My heart feels unfocused. The pastor’s wife does almost all the talking. I have no idea what they are saying, but I pray for hearts to long for Jesus in those conversations. I’m speaking more Spanish than ever before in my life (that’s not much), but I’m so terribly limited by my child-like grammar and inadequate vocabulary. I sit with all the Spanish speakers at every meal, hoping to increase my comprehension, but it doesn’t seem to help.
We walk over a threshold covered in poop, which I assume is from the pigs…? We sit in a room where the Bible studies happen. They have tried to decorate it with some hand-made posters on the walls and small decorations hanging from the ceiling. And we pray… for revival, for growth, for transformation, for people to know and love and follow Jesus.
I feel incredibly useless here. They feed us tons of food, bring us our dishes, carry away our dishes, wash our dishes, do all the talking with the home visits since we don’t speak enough Spanish. And I just stand there, unsure what to do, smiling and watching.
