Lord, “Use my hands; use my feet, to make Your Kingdom come."
~ Brandon Heath
We’d passed that cornfield many
times. But in the Guatemalan highlands,
where corn can reach 6 to 7 meters high, we were completely unaware that an
entire community lived within its boundaries.
A footpath wound unpredictably through this Mayan ‘forest.’ Each muddy footprint unlocked cues to the
difficulties faced by these families.
I faced the sun, feeling its gentle warmth, noticing
how the sky was darker blue here. Only
the laughter of children hidden within the stalks reminded me that we’re called
to this place by a God who asks us to follow Him into the homes of the broken.
Here we met Rosario Lopez (Rosy), who rose long before our
arrival to prepare breakfast for a bustling household of six young children. Juan Luis, age 11 and the oldest, left school
after the fourth grade to pick coffee beans and help support the family.
Rosy spends her day tending to her home and weaving
beautifully intricate textiles, a tradition passed down by Mayan women for
centuries. Her husband, a victim of the
alcoholism so prevalent in Guatemala, no longer lives in the home or supports
the family.
Sunny days will soon give way to cold nights where children
struggle to stay warm. This hidden village
is wired for electricity, although the utility’s cost is far out of reach for
Rosy and most of her neighbors. Her
father helped build thier small hut (8’ square) from scraps of bamboo and
corrugated metal.
She cooks on a three-stone fire built on their dirt
floor. As a result, her current home is constantly
filled with toxic wood smoke that causes serious health problems, particularly
for the children. No running water;
chickens in the kitchen; dirt floor for a mattress.
Nearby, we’ll build a new home. It will have a small porch to dry clothing
during the rainy season, a steel door for security, cement floor, properly vented
stove, and a few pieces of cheap furniture; rather well equipped by village
standards. So many more need our help.
As I stood on what will soon be Rosy’s front porch, I recall
the story a boy tossing beached starfish back into the ocean. When confronted by a man who questioned the
sanity of his mission (there were miles of beach and thousands of more stranded
starfish), the boy tossed yet another starfish back into the surf.
Smiling he said to the old man: “It made a difference to
that one.”
Rosy was our starfish.
God’s plan calls us to bring help, healing and hope to
people one person at a time. May your
light always shine to others in any kind of need, not just money. Other needs may include our time, a smile, a
kind word, assistance, or forgiveness.
Lord Jesus, “to those I have helped, I wish I’d
done more. For those I neglected, I ask for understanding, to those who helped
me – I thank you with all my heart.” ~ Yom Kippur Prayer
