One of our friends here asked if we wanted to see the slums in Ho Chi Minh City, and we said yes.
We stepped off the busy street and down a dark alley leading to rows and rows of rooms upon rooms that composed the slums. When we approached the first home, I thought it was a closet. Its customary to remove your shoes when entering most places in Asia, so we left our shoes in the alley and ducked in. The room was about 4 feet wide and 10 feet long. Our translator shared with us that 6 people lived in this cramped, humid room. The 7 of us barely fit on the floor, but they insisted that we sit. A beautiful little girl came in we learned that this was her home. She is the only person in her family that believes in Jesus Christ, She is 9 years old. Her parents were at work, trading fish in the market so she was there alone, running in and out of the house chasing friends and finding food. I sat in silence looking around, trying to fathom how 6 people could sleep on this floor, and the persecution this young girl must go through as a Christian living in a home drenched in Buddhism. Not knowing what else to do, I asked if we could pray. We dedicated the home and family to the Lord and begged for peace and joy to overflow.
We made our way through the maze of alleys and visited a few more homes. A sweet, sweet Grandma smiled from ear to ear as we sat on her tile floor and learned about life in the city. She did not know a lick of english, and she did not believe in Jesus, but her face showed that she was truly blessed by our company. I was certainly blessed by the tight hug she gave me on the way out.
I had literally just seen breaking dawn part 2 right across the street from where these slums are. I loved getting to feel “American” and watch a movie while eating fresh popcorn. It was so easy to sit and let this experience feed my soul, totally oblivious of the poverty right beside me.
Then I realized that its not the elements that make the World Race hard, its the dynamic.
I paid $3.50 to see a movie in english, and $3 for the popcorn and a coke. I have a warm bed and a hot shower. There is air conditioning in my hostel and a bakery right around the corner. But even with all these pleasantries, the dynamic is what takes a toll.
Never going anywhere alone, living with 6 people you met 12 weeks ago, finding that roaches and mice are your new roomies, living on $4/day and wondering what kind of rice you will eat gets taxing.
Then all of the sudden when I am having a sour attitude about wanting to do my own thing, or make my own plans without 6 other people being considered or even involved, God humbles me by showing me the harsh living conditions of my present neighbors.
If a 9 year old girl can boldly proclaim her faith through crowded streets and dim alleys, then I aint got no problems living out of a backpack for 8 more months and eating countless bowls of rice.
God has such a beautiful way of breaking my heart for what breaks His and then reminding me how powerful He is. I am so unbelievably grateful for him choosing me to be apart of what He is doing all over this world.
