Day one of our ministry in San Salvador with YWAM | El Salvador (or JUCUM, to the locals) began with evangelizing at the local University and ending with their street evangelism called “Luz.” Luz, meaning “light” in English, is a prostitute ministry where we go to street corners with soda and cookies and build friendships with, in this part of town, (formerly or currently) males dressed as female prostitutes.
The next morning, on our way to a hospital to celebrate Día de los Niños with children in a special education class, my teammate and I talked about how we thought this month would grow our compassion for people we don’t naturally have a heart for.
I find it easier to have compassion for children than I do for adults.
Children have a natural innocence about themselves. They don’t usually understand the repercussions of their actions. I really hope they haven’t seen all the things I’ve seen in my twenty-eight years, though I’m sure some have and even more. Children don’t choose their parents; they don’t choose to live with their grandmother because their mom left them and their dad died trying to provide for them.
I tend to think that adults should know better. They made the decision to live this lifestyle, to stay with this man that beats them, to listen to the lies they’re told. And they have the ability to leave. Yes, it would be hard, but it is possible. It’s an upward climb and sometimes in the process you skin your knees and your hands bleed.
But it’s not as black and white as that. Life isn’t black and white.
As I looked into the eyes of the prostitutes I have met, and of the gang members I walked by in the barrios, I can see it’s more complicated than that. I know from my own experience that it is difficult as hell to rid yourself of lies that you have heard from other people and those you tell yourself. I am familiar with the torment the heart has with its own body. I understand the need to feel acceptance and approval. The poison just looks a little different for each of us.
I find it easier to have compassion for someone once I know their story.
I don’t know how long I talked to Jenny* but when we had to leave, I felt as though I had gained a friend. She told me who Jesus was in her life and I encouraged her that God wanted to hear her prayers, but that He also wanted to speak to her. He had something special just for her. She told me she was working on her thesis at the University, and she was studying to be an accountant—so naturally, we were best friends!
I can even see this is evident with people on my squad. I have much more care and concern for my teammates than people I haven’t been on a team with. And, honestly, that is more-so with my first team than it is with my second, and my second than it is with my third. My heart wells up with a ridiculous amount of tenderness for people who have told me their story and let me live in a small part of it.
My version of “discipline” during presentations
What I’m learning this month is that loving people unconditionally and without any precepts is hard, and it’s messy.
I often don’t get it right.
I can think back to interactions this month where I know I could have done better. Now the next step is to realize it in the moment. I’m not perfect. But with practice, God will continue to let me see His Beloved with His eyes, and I can only hope that they will feel His love in return.
*Name changed
