Negritos- “Lo” should be renamed. I remember telling one of the sisters of the church “Heaven is close here”.
Negritos is a small farming village nestled high up in the Peruvian mountains.
Our Pastor & host wanted us to go for several days to minister to the people there. He said it would be “Una experiencia bonito”… “A beautiful experience”.
So far on my Race truer words have not been spoken.
The people in Negritos are very poor.
When we arrived we had the privilege of handing out shoeboxes from the “Operation Christmas Child” ministry that’s a part of Samaratin’s Purse. For anyone who has every filled a shoebox with treats and gifts for the children in that ministry, please let me tell you it was worth every minute, every penny, every trip to the Dollar Store. To watch these children, who may have never before received a gift, timidly open them and glow with joy was such a treat.
But as I looked around I noticed that many of the children’s cheeks were raw and red. In a whisper I asked our host, “Why?” She said their skin was wind and sunburnt and they have nothing for it.
Can you imagine being that poor? That whatever happens to your skin, sunburn, chapping or cracks from farming, injury, dirt from daily life… You have nothing for it?
One pair of clothes, one pair of shoes, one spout for ice cold water, one room in your house.
And yet for lunch after the shoeboxes women from the village gathered around huge pots steaming over the open fire in the “kitchen” and served us heaping plates of rice and potatoes with homemade cheese. Portions enough for 3 people on one plate.
Poverty transformed into generosity. It blew my mind. And it continued all weekend long.
Their church services were another thing of beauty. In their minds for worship, the louder and more enthusiastic the better.
“Make a joyful noise unto the Lord”.
They live and breathe this rule, clapping off-time and singing off-key all the way. Sometimes for 20 minutes at a time. They were delighted when we would sing for them and would clap along with us (well maybe not along)… If they knew a worship song they got up front and sang it as a trio or so for the whole church. Regardless of their level of ‘talent’ but to share their joy in worshiping the Lord. They were bursting with it! All while humbly looking at the ground.
Their prayers would transform from impassioned pleas before God, their voices climbing and desperate at times to an outpouring of intense gratitude thanking God for all they have. Long prayers flowed into heartfelt cries for health, for their families, their village. They were so grateful to hear the word of God. Their shouts of “Glory to God” “Amen!” were hushed and all listened intently, hungrily whenever the bible was read.
Then one evening the Pastor began to speak. And as I listened, translating the Spanish in my head, I realized it was about hunger. He spoke about having been hungry sometimes. But that the word of God is the best food. It is what we must stay hungry for. That we must meditate on it because God will never leave us, day or night. We are hand in hand with him. That the world does not know the love and the word of God so we must share our testimonies.
Then he called US, the visiting missionaries… BRAVE.
Ok – *Mic Drop* – Am I RIGHT??
It is a powerful thing to have someone who has experienced real struggle call YOU brave.
They thanked us time and again every day for coming to be with them. They thanked God for us every time they prayed. They called us “hermanita, hermanito” (little sister, little brother). They hugged and kissed us and demanded to carry our things.
I am sorely going to miss them. Their love in the midst of hard living made my heart so light. I am going to miss the shy smiles from the kids and the warm greetings from the adults. The sound of rain on the tin roof and the smell of the dirt floors of the church as we slept on it’s hand-made wooden pews.
One of our last nights a brother of the church spoke. From the broken Spanish in my mind I gathered that he was saying we are all a family in Christ. Brothers and sisters, “hermanos y hermanitas”. He thanked God for the 100th time for us coming to convene with them. Then he said (and God allowed me to understand this clearly)…
if we had not been able to come, or if we could never come back again, we would all see each other again in heaven. Because the bible says so.
Man, I can’t wait.
Because Negritos-Lo… Heaven is already close there.
