Well, I figured it is about time I get to posting my final blog about the extraordinary week God allowed me to endure. As I begin to write this, I can only think to myself that this couldn't possibly be the final words of this trip-- that this trip has yet to end, perhaps it has only just begun.
Questions I ask myself: how is this fair? Why do I have the things I have and others do not? Why me? What did I do to deserve the many blessings of life I have? Why can't Pablito be healed? Why must those girls have went through tragic rape and abuse? Why did those children have to get AIDS? Why don't those prostitutes have a means for providing in another way? Why did Miguel run away? Why do they have marks from being tied down? Why doesn't anyone love them? Why? Why? Why?
This list barely scratches the surface of the questions that surfaced this week. However, there is one question that I am having trouble allowing to surface: What do you want me to do with all I have seen and felt, God? I am scared to ask him.... More scared of how he will respond and the radical movements he will ask of us.
My last day in El Salvador was really hard but so rewarding. I was so blessed by the sweet special needs girl that desperately wanted to feel love in the form of touch--physically feeling nurture and security-- not being pulled and skin being broken by the rope that was used to contain her. This precious child had marks all over her sides and wrists due to the restraints used to keep her "safe". While she was unable to escape, was she really all that safe? What was she being saved from? What kind of way of life was she being allowed?
As I began to hold her to free up the "tia" to assist another girl, she began to calm down and not be so aggressive. Slowly she began to weaken in the knees and brought me to the ground where she began to snuggle into my arms like a baby-- this girl was probably 14 or 15. She actually felt comforted and relaxed-- I feel like that was a moment of safety for her. Safety from hatred and judgment and bitterness; safety from lack of compassion and false sense of hope and love. She was secure in knowing she was loved and cared for deeply in that moment.
We also spent time at the squatter's camp again where people lined the streets in anticipation for the small gifts we had to offer them-- toothbrushes, small toys, and dresses for the little girls made of pillow cases. These families experienced what looked like Christmas day!
Coming home has been one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I so badly wanted to wake up and cram into a crowded bus and head off to a destination where we were blessed to share God's love with hurting people... I wanted to jump on the back of a truck tonight to feed the homeless. I want to make appointments with prostitutes and give them wages for an evening in exchange for an evening of dinner or coffee and great conversation. I want so badly to live not for me.... This idea seems so far-fetched in the U.S.
Quickly my day became consumed with trivial things that couldn't possibly be glorifying to the Lord. Business meetings consumed with legality and procedures-- how is God okay with that? Having a process to determine giving a family money for food seems insane to me. God wants us to give radically and unconditionally-- selflessly and compassionately. We must spend more time doing than we do deciding and analyzing.
I know that I have a purpose here in Paducah, KY- God wants to use my life to point others to Him. This trip was not about me; it was not about how amazing it was that God called me; or that he called a few teenage girls; or that we worked hard to make this happen; or anything close to that-- it was that for a moment in time He was greater than us-He provided for us- He sacrificed for us- it was ALL about HIM. Nothing else. So what can my purpose be here and now? How do I let God continue to do this very thing in my life?
Here is a story that a guy from our team shared with me (or similar): A man fell down into a well and couldn't possibly get out alone. An entire community gathered around him to help save him. They at first sent down a rope for him to grab a hold of; but his body was too weak to pull himself out. So, a man was lowered into the well by the community of men around him. He was able to save the man in the well. The question is: who is more important--the man who saved him by being lowered into the well or the men who held the rope? Were they not both equally significant in saving the man?
Last week we got to be the man lowered into the well to save the hurt man... this week we are the men holding the rope. We have to hold the rope that helps saves lives. The trivial things we do in ministry aren't necessarily so trivial (while some certainly are) many things we do are a means to a greater cause. I must keep doing so that lives can continue to be transformed into the likeness of Christ. I can eagerly anticipate the next trip, but in so doing I may miss out on what is happening right here and now. I have to participate (thanks to the wisdom of sweet Mer) and endure the moments of life God is using me in today.
I urge everyone of you to participate in life, fully. Boldly take on the challenges God is asking of you-- recklessly abandon everything for the sake of Him. Seek His face in all that you do-- He is worth it.
Seeing a part of the world you aren't accustom to can richly bless you and greatly transform you. Find a way to fulfill all of the Great Commission by also taking the gospel to the ends of the earth. If there is a way for you to immerse yourself in a different culture, I urge you to do so. You will see God's face in a whole new way. You will see that He is the homeless man, the prostitute, the orphan, the AIDS victim, the broken heart, and the widow...
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