Con mis Manos

On Thursday of this week we went to the city dump (aka the basurera), a place where 80 children and their families call home. Our hosts, Paul and Hilda, have a long term ministry at the dump. They feed the families lunch each Thursday while showering them with love. This was our first day of ministry while in Guatemala so we were all anxious and excited to finally begin serving as a team.

I had some preconceived expectations. As a social work major, many of my classes are centered around poverty. I’d seen pictures in textbooks, read a plethora of articles, been shocked by statistics, and felt a passion begin to arise in me as an advocate for the poor, but nothing could prepare me for the reality of the dump. When I say dump, I mean an actual garbage dump. A massive pile of trash that spans probably 15 acres. Wild pigs, dogs, and buzzards lived, worked, and ate alongside the families who call the dump home.

I had been praying for myself as well as my team to approach this place of such intense poverty with a servant’s heart and not a “savior’s” mentality. This “savior mentality” so many Americans have when interacting with impoverished people and places is most certainly not from The Lord. I’d been praying that we don’t come to the dump to pity, to try and “save” these people, or to uphold the barriers between our socially constructed social classes. We should come with the mentality that we all are beggars, equally broken and equally in need of desperate grace at the foot of the cross. Our hearts should say “I’ve found hope in Christ, let me tell you about what it’s done for me” and not “I’m your hope, let me tell you about what I can do for you”. We come to serve, not save. King Jesus is the only savior in this equation. The kingdom of heaven has no room for social classes of any kind. We are sons and we are daughters, and that’s it. And let me tell you, the Lord was eager to answer this prayer of humility. We were able to wash the children’s hands before they ate, but in my heart, we were washing their feet. Jesus teaches us that what you do for the least, you do for him. What a sweet start of the day it was to usher in the Kingdom by serving. The last became first.

As the day went on, I was a tad discouraged by my Spanish speaking abilities. I desired so much to be able to pour my heart out to the people and speak to them about the freedom and joy found in Christ, but I couldn’t- I didn’t know how to say it in Spanish. Finding a way to share Jesus with people without using words left me searching for creative ways to love. A loving touch, a simple smile, an attempt to speak broken Spanish accompanied with sporadic giggles and received with a lot of grace (thankfully). I’m learning to serve with my hands when my words can’t do the trick. I’m learning to trust the Spirit to move and break down language barriers and cut straight to the heart. I’m trusting God to speak truths into the heart of people when I can’t tangibly tell someone that the have worth, value, and love beyond their wildest dreams.

Amidst the stench of the waste was the aroma of Christ. I love the juxtaposition of the glorious Kingdom of God settling over the foulness of a basurera. No amount of poverty can stop the glory of God being reflected in His image-bearers.