if you’re involved in the ministry at all – specifically foreign missions – you know that some days can be harder than others. some days the weight can be a little too heavy. some days the heartache can sting a little too much. for me, today was…you know…one of those days.
today we were able to go to pachimulin and visit silvia. oh silvia – our sweet little miracle child. a few weeks ago death came knocking on her door. she couldn’t even muster the strength to smile or lift up her arms. nobody knew if she was going to make it.
today, silvia sat outside her little house in the village, in a chair in the sun. smiling. and we were thankful and joyful and overwhelmed with gratitude for her life – of course we were. however, the sickness and heartbreak did not end there. sadly, for many of these families, a situation like silvia’s is just the beginning.
before we arrived at her house, we were introduced to cesar. “you can tell he works by his hands”, my mom commented. cesar is 10 years old and does not go to school. instead, he works to provide for his family. his dad was tragically lost in a hurricane. never having been to school, cesar speaks no spanish – only his native tongue of kaqchikel. he sat in a desk, curiously looking up at us, as we discussed how we were going to make a way for him to be able to attend school and study like other kids his age.
and then, we came to silvia. like i mentioned, she looked so much better, considering just days ago she was at the point of death. seeing her smile was the most beautiful sight in the world. her mom came outside, holding her one month old baby – “three more are sick inside. they’ve been out of school for weeks.” we tentatively walked inside only to find three more sweet little angels laying on a bed – fevered. tired. coughing. dirty from head to toe. it was a sour sight to swallow. i stepped outside and sat down on the dirt next to silvia. i took a breath and struggled to hold in tears. you cannot cry in front of her. you have to be strong for her.
what would happen then? well, i’ll tell you exactly what happened. i got in the car with my family and drove home. i took a shower and laid in my nice bed in my nice house in the city. i sat down and had a full dinner and left the table with a full stomach.
all the while, cesar is still out of school, silvia is still recovering from sickness, and three littles are still sick in bed on dirt floors. those are few stories amongst many.
there’s not a lot to say about it, really. i could beg you to come visit. i could plead with you to sponsor a child. however, i’ve come to find that unless you truly encounter Jesus on your own, my words are empty. nothing but another post on facebook that you’ll scroll by without a second thought; or, if i’m lucky, you’ll share.
but what i will tell you is this – my God is the God of the sewer, not the shiny stainless steel kitchen (thanks for those words, natalie). and while we can try all we want to fit Him into our comforting box of trendy, easy, comfort-zone Christianity, He will still be the God of the sewer. He will still be Jesus, friend of sinners. Jesus, caretaker of widows. Jesus, lover of orphans and prostitutes and sick children that our clouded minds too often forget about.
we are supposed to be like Him. we are supposed to mirror Him. we are supposed to reflect His life. what are you doing today to be like Jesus? what are you surrendering today to love on His Kingdom?
don’t waste your life. please. the ears of those who have never heard His sweet name need you – and by the way, that’s about 3.11 billion people.
so…what are we going to do about it?
isaiah 6:8 also i heard the voice of the Lord, saying, whom shall I send, and who will go for us?
then said i, here am i; send me.