My eyes burn. They burn when I see a hungry child pressed against the glass at the restaurant I am at starving to just have a taste of what's on my plate. They burn when I see the aftermath of what an abusive father can do to the back of his four year old child with a belt. They burn when I stand outside of a pool hall at night only to find a congregation of children sitting and watching as their mothers prostitute themselves half naked in front of strange men that look nothing like their fathers. And They burn most when a child clenches your hand, begging for you to be his father and you aren't the least surprised because the scars across his arms and face show reason why he asked in the first place.
That is what experiencing a third world country can do to you. You are scarred with things you can never unsee. They are forever stamped into your brain. but... there are also moments that remind you why you bought your plane tickets in the first place. Moments like what happened today.
They followed me. 6 of them. Some trailing at a distant and the others at my side with my arm over their shoulders. the walk to the store wasn't far but enough to cause the attention of an elderly woman under a tree. At first her words were too soft to understand, but after being dragged towards her by the children, I realized what she wanted. food. Just some rice and chicken. She hadn't eaten at all yet lived seconds away from the store. And there she sat asking kindly but embarrassingly for some food to eat. At first I was hesitant because giving food to her meant an immediate crowed of other civilians asking for the same thing. And my money couldn't cover all of them. So I kindly saluted her and walked away. But as I got closer to the store the bible verse Matthew 25:35 came to mind. "For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in."....
I could easily enter the store, purchase the food, and hand it to the woman, but I felt God tell me to go about things differently. I prayed for a moment and then looked down at what filled the empty spaces between my fingers. With wide eyes and crooked teethe there stood the children. But.... they were no longer children to me. There they stood with scraped knees and runny noses.. Missionaries. I placed the different foods in each of their hands then asked simply if they would like to be a missionary. With a large grin they nodded proudly then ran as fast as they could towards the elderly woman. As I walked out of the store, a look of astonishment swept across my face. And I became more amazed when just 10 minutes later I saw one of my kids, Eddy, buy candy with his own money only to pass it out to all the other boys playing with me and Blake.
Just when you think our effort has run out. Just when you believe that there is nothing else that can be done in the community of Villa Hermosa, cracks of hope begin to submerge. A neighborhood once full with fighting and drugs and hatred, was now showing little bits and pieces unity and hope and love and.....well.... Jesus. I left Villa Hermosa today witnessing the presence of Jesus. He is beginning to bring on a revolution and I am blessed enough to get a front row seat to witness it all.
The sun began to set as our footprints left the town followed by fifteen other sets. It was time to go home, but still they followed. I pulled one in close, and the words he began to whisper into my ear stopped my heart. "I'm a missionary!", he said smiling. It wasn't necessarily the words that brought joy, but rather it was the fact that they left the mouth of a child covered in scars from abuse and a past that you wouldn't dare ask about. "I'm a missionary......" hm...
Thank you for the prayers and the donations. It is being put to good use here! From a bicycle to loads of food for families, you guys are doing just as much of missions here as I am. Keep up the good work!! with love,
Landon
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