I’m crammed in the back of truck staring out between the wooden slats. “Don’t get sick, breathe in and out, concentrate on the road,” plays repeatedly in my head. Car-sickness. Its not the first time this year or this week even that this has happened, and I imagine it’s not the last.
There’s at least ten adult squeezed in the back of this truck. and the food. and a chair for a dental clinic. Tight is an understatement. When we make our clown car exit, I sit on the concrete willing my stomach to hold it together, sipping my water. The group of volunteers and racers move to a covered area up the hill for worship and a short lesson before the vbs-like feeding program begins.
We spends some time as adults focusing in. I do a heart check, “why am I here? Am I prepared to love these kids like Jesus?” Its becoming my routine to examine my motive behind my actions before serving. Then we break out. I walk with the group going to pick up the kids.
This is the second time I’ve done this but it doesn’t seem to get easier to walk through what can only be described, to my limited knowledge of poverty, as slums. Houses built out of scrap ply wood and ceiling of spare metal held down with big rocks or bricks. The floors inside and the ground outside are one seamless carpet in most places, littered with the occasional house with tile that spills outside, trash, and things I don’t even want to know about. Some houses have seen the pride and love of their neighbors with fresh paint and plants potted in recycled plastic containers, while others are held together with only nails and miracles.
Somehow, going here is something I volunteered to do. Despite the smell, the heaviness of my heart, the brightness of the sun slowly starting to bake us, I want to be here.
Back home, this isn’t something I embraced. I know we’re called to be the hands and feet of Jesus but I always chose something a little less messy- an elbow or shin maybe. The problems of poverty were too big, too many easy excuses. I didn’t have money to help fix it, didn’t have the time to change the whole system, and frankly didn’t have the desire to be uncomfortable (who does?).
Too often, I repeated these excuses to quiet the guilt, justify my stagnant body and ignoring the motivation of my heart to do more. I looked away, kept driving, took the extra hours at work. If I couldn’t fix the problem of poverty myself, I didn’t want to be a part of it.
It made me uncomfortable.
I’ve learned this month is that when God moves, you have to move with him. When he calls you to do something, sometimes we just need to be quiet and do what he says. Stop being the defensive teenager in our faith, and become the adult that respects and is obedient to our leader, our Lord. That’s when we can use the strength the holy spirit provides, and we can really be blessed by what God is doing where we are.
The funny thing about this exchange though is that even if you start doing something out of obedience, for the blessings, or because you literally signed up for it, somehow those pros seem to matter a lot less. You start to get it a little more. Its not about your problems anymore because you have peace. Its not about your control because God has it in his hands. Its not about your opinions and complaints, because people are being helped. As your burden lifts, so does theirs and in the process, God is getting the glory.
Poverty sucks. It’s a problem too big for any one person to tackle. But the more that I am immersed in it, the more I seem to understand. I’m not supposed to fix the problem. I’m not supposed to feel shame for the fact that I have been allowed certain privileges in my life. I’m supposed to hold the hand of a seven year old boy, sing a song I don’t know in spanish, and love him. I take time to show him what a life with Christ can be like because I love him. Because I am loved by God and it is the difference.
Will you take time today to ask God (and wait for the response) about what he wants you to move in? Maybe it’s volunteering at your church to help lead the high school group, maybe it’s signing up for that shift at homeless shelter, or maybe it’s using the gifts you have been given to bless someone else. Will you take pray with me that the ministry here in Colombia will continue follow the call of the Lord? Will you take the next step and be moved?
