Costa Rica.
When you hear that name what comes to mind?
Probably something like beaches for days, sunshine, surfing and seafood, am I right?
Costa Rica is achingly beautiful. It’s green and magical and it just FEELS good. The Costa Rica that you think of when planning your vacation is not the one that I think of when I picture my life here, though.
Sprawled over it’s green majesty are slums full of people hungry for a better life. Their shacks consist of whatever building materials they can find and a tin roof. The slums are like a creeping animal, growing ever larger as people build around the edges to tie into electricity. I try to close my eyes and imagine the valley of Los Guido, where I live, before poverty reigned with it’s iron grip. It’s difficult.
Something I’ve come to accept on this journey is that some of the most beautiful and breathtaking places will be home to a country’s poorest people. Beauty and poverty. It sounds like an oxymoron, doesn’t it?
You would think so until the children of the neighborhood come to the feeding center for a hot meal, and the smiles on their faces feel like a direct connection to God. You would think so until you realize that the teenagers living one of the most dangerous slums of San Jose are in charge of the youth of the church. You would think so until you see the women of the community gathered around a table sharing praises of what the Father is doing in their lives on a daily basis. You would think so until you see a tired woman sweeping the concrete “porch” outside her shack and realize she’s somebody’s momma, just like my own.
The beauty in poverty is found in the hearts of the people fighting for more. It’s hard. It’s unfair. It’s dirty. However, when I look at these people I am humbled and honored to serve and see, I see the glory of my God who never fails. I see him calling the broken to himself for healing. I see him providing for the needy when they think there’s no hope. I see him raising up a generation of believers who are changing the world around them.
Poverty is a frightening thing. It’s like a disease, always trying to take more and more people captive. It’s looses it’s power when we look past the dirt and the grime and we see the incredible people that have found the strength to fight another day.
I believe God is given the most leeway to work when people come to the very ends of themselves: the end of their hopes and dreams and energy.
When I think of my Costa Rica, all I see is God. His face is everywhere. His footprints are constantly fresh, as if he’s just walked by. His voice is strong and persistent as he’s calling the people to His heart, asking them to stop trying so hard to live alone in a world made for us to walk alongside him in.
I hear Him whispering to me constantly, “seek my face”, and when I do I’m stunned by the reality that it’s right in front of me. In the people. In their hearts. It’s captivating and astounding.
That’s Costa Rica.
