Sleeping With the Lights On

My original view of Mexico was a struggling country on the doorstep on the States, but never in my mind could I have imagined the extent of poverty gripping Juarez: dead dogs on the side of the dirt roads that turn to mud in the rain, children playing in nasty sewage barefoot among leftover construction supplies from the millions of factory houses smaller than our average bathroom.

Absolutely overwhelming details.

The second night of our stay at a church in the roughest area of Juarez everyone was so delirious that we forgot to clean up our messes after eating. About an hour and a half after everyone hit the sack the roaches made their move. The result was screaming girls with flip flops as weapons against the bugs and frustrated men ready to just get some quiet sleep. It was an experience that scared everyone into a paranoid edge.

Yet the next night everyone embraced the roaches with humor and confidence; we slept with the lights on and told ourselves that whatever happened, at least we would be able to see the Enemy. The problem was stripped away of frightening mystery and faced purely illuminated.

I arrived into this third world with safety in mind. Toward the end of week, though, I was struck at how I really wanted to let my guard down after being broken in every possible way. If I could fight for the real problems around me instead of avoiding my fears I believe I would move forward in spiritual mission.

For example, I used to believe poverty was a straining spiritual distraction. How could anyone find Jesus without the clarity that comes from food? In Juarez I witnessed the humble example of a Spanish family that could barely afford food to feed themselves feed our entire team of twenty people. Maybe the real problem with poverty-stricken people is not their hearts or their lack of spiritual energy, because all of that might already be in place; could it be that they simply have not been introduced to source of their spiritual energy, that being the Lord Jesus Christ?

I write these words in the El Paso breeze watching the millions of factory lights shine bright. I think every stucco house has a plot that explodes with the ability to change the world but without the real foundation of ‘Cristo’ all hope will become Spanish dust. My resolution is to face every situation with this confident honesty, with the lights on. I am sick of making excuses for my anxiety and I want to have a story to to share with every person I encounter.

The Cliff Hanging Song

It is good to be back! Finally I have inhaled summer and all of its spiritual freedom to think with clarity. It seems like forever since I have had the time or the will for that matter to articulate thoughts, so I hopefully this short blog will get my mind rolling.

I don’t remember who recognized it, whether it was in a book or song but I once heard that the international language is pain as opposed to love. All around the world one can identify suffering as real marking inside everyone; for some it is a physical scar but for others it is deep emotional distress.

The Psalmists relay this mark of sorts continually. It is almost like they are constantly running away from evil, and the words of their songs are the only reflections of happiness. Could the mediation we accept as the Psalms be cries of desperation, when the most urgent praise to God slurred forth? I don’t know about the original Hebrew words, but my NIV translation certainly conveys a slurring repetition, with a continuing theme recounted in a hundred different ways.

“Indignation grips me because of the wicked, who have forsaken the law.’


Yet,


“Your decrees are the theme of my song wherever I lodge.”


The image I have is a man gripping the side of cliff, his eyes closed and mind focused on the truth that God brings. These defining moments that test our patience and endurance prove to be the most strengthening. I find restoration when I am stripped of what was hindered me and return to my knees in awe of His grace.

At this moment my internal battle is spiritual confusion. I am trying to consider my whole purpose in attending college. The opportunities are endless, but I just don’t know which way to turn. Sometimes I want to just break away into a simpler lifestyle, maybe overseas away from routine and into the heart of suffering to fight for relief. I want my career to be one of service, and too often I contemplate the possibilities with selfish ambition.

But when I swirl like this, I remember the only thing that is guarantee in life and that is the promise Jesus created through his sacrifice. I yearn for a life without my petty luxuries, one that is urgent even to get my heart into gear for the Lord.

“To all perfection I see a limit,
but your decrees are boundless.”