For Love of Touch

Sometimes, I wish our United States culture were a bit more touchy...in a good way.

While in El Salvador, I looked forward to the 4:00 hour each afternoon.  At that time, the Salvadorian students would be done with homework time and would appear on the grounds of the children's home, ripe and ready for fun.  Playing and interacting with them was as enchanting as it is with any energetic kid.  Yet, there was something uniquely rich about being with these Spanish-speaking sweethearts: they were unashamedly loving. 

I was perhaps most touched (no pun intended...seriously) by their constant hugs.  Without hesitation, arms would extend and wrap around me and in an instant, my heart would be warmed.  I hugged them back, but somehow I feel they gave more than I could repay.  Not as though love is quantifiable.  It's not. But if it were, and if I were a betting woman, I would bet a Starbucks or ten that I lost in the effort of love-giving while in El Salvador.  The sweet smiles and love and the pure interest they had in interacting with me enriched my life.

Love can be shown in so many ways, but I sometimes wish folks in the States were more affectionate with each other.  There is something about touch that communicates love in a way words cannot.  A hug, a pat on the back, a reassuring grip on the arm...these are all gestures that speak richer meaning than a well-spoken word.

I wonder if those children in El Salvador know how much it means for we Americans to receive love from them.  To me, it meant more than I can say.

We're All Broken

It's a blissfully sunny day here in Colorado.  As this week has progressed, I have found it a hard discipline to sit and reflect on the happenings of last week in El Salvador.  This particular struggle reminds me of a trip I took as a sophomore in college with my good friend Rebekah.  Over a long weekend, we traveled with a group of college students to the inner city of Chicago to be exposed to the grim realities of inner-city life. 

One night on the trip, Rebekah and I stayed up for some time, propped up in our sleeping bags, discussing the things we had experienced and hoping that the things that were gripping our consciences at that moment would not escape into oblivion when we returned to "normal" life.  Yet, when I was back on campus, flooded by all the demands of college life, it was hard to keep those images and needs and heart-wrenching feelings vivid.  I recall my frustration that my sense of urgency was fading.  I think this is normal, but I wish with my whole being it weren't.

I guess this is why journaling is so valuable.  Reviewing the thoughts that struck me about my recent trip will aid me in holding onto the things that impacted me most while I was there.  I pulled my journal out today and found a big topic that impressed me while in El Salvador: "We're All Broken."  These were my mother's words that she expressed during one of our team devotionals last week.

She spoke them during our debrief about the destitute community we had visited the day before. We were all batting around the ideas of poverty and riches and happiness and sadness and how all of those factors are correlated.  It's an age-old tension of thought.  How much does material and financial security contribute to happiness?  Though most people would say that material needs aren't necessary for true joy, there is still heartache and deprivation that is caused by poverty that those who are wealthy don't experience in the same way.  Yet, as is also common knowledge, some people who have extravagant material possessions are strikingly sad and full of despair. 

There is some sort of balance to be struck, but I think my mom's words were perfectly poignant: "We're all broken."  When gauging a measure of fulfillment, material possessions are truly a smaller factor than we often realize.  Of course there is sadness in poverty.  Of course there is emptiness in extreme wealth.  Yet, the bottom line is that we all live in a broken world that is constantly screaming in pain because of the unfair pendulum swing of life.  Rarely is that pendulum perfectly in the middle.  Every human in every situation feels a stinging consequence of some aspect of the tilted pendulum.  One man's sorrows are not another's, but we all face the brokenness of our human heart and the shrapnel of the world around us.

I am not at all downplaying the hardships that those in true poverty experience.  I understand that they need love, support, prayer, and help.  I am cognizant that there are people who live horrific lives that I cannot comprehend.  My point is simply that comparing sufferings perhaps ignores a more fundamental truth. On some level, we all feel the shards of a broken world tearing at our flesh.  The only relief from this pain is to turn to Christ.  He alone "heals the brokenhearted" (Psalm 147:3).  He alone can truly remedy the deep soul ache that every human in every circumstance faces.

It was hard to see deep poverty in El Salvador.  If I could, I would fix it someway, somehow.  I felt so fortunate in comparison to the people I saw in that poor community.  Yet, those people and I aren't so different.  We're all broken people in need of a compassionate Savior.  Perhaps solving worldwide poverty is impossible.  Maybe solving spiritual poverty is not.  It just takes one heart at a time turning toward Christ.  What a marvelous, comforting truth!  There is a balm for every broken heart.  Jesus Christ is His name.

Nothing Beats Experience

Two days ago, I strolled onto a big jet, tucked myself into my cozy little airline seat, and contemplated the days I had just experienced in El Salvador.  I pulled out my simple black journal in the hopes of capturing the abstract and scattered thoughts that were surfacing.  During the seven days I was in Central America, I struggled to really debrief with myself.  I felt caught up in the moments and found my day-to-day routine a bit surreal.  I think that's normal, but as I was given time to just sit during the flight back to the U.S., I was determined to pull some deeper thoughts into clearer view.  As I jotted down the aspects of the trip I wanted to focus on in the coming days, one of the phrases I penned was: "Nothing beats Experience."

How true this is.  As great as technology and story-telling can be and as compassionate and sympathetic as humans generally are, absolutely nothing can beat first-hand experience in its ability to instruct the heart.  My experience in El Salvador highlighted this truth to me yet again.  In my lifetime, I've seen a lot of pictures of children around the world who are not so fortunate.  I've heard many a story of them as well. 

Yet, for the first time, I was touched and loved by such children this last week.  I was up close to their stories and their personalities.  I watched tears stream down the face of a teenage boy during a prayer service.  I heard kids joke and laughed at their sharp wit.  I saw their passion for life.  I worked on my Spanish via their patient tutoring.  I received more hugs from them than I can count.  I found out what they like and what they don't.  I watched them play soccer and basketball.  I sang with them and heard their hauntingly pure voices.  I sat next to them and held them close.  These children are fortunate because they live in a safe and loving place where they are taught about the love of Christ.  Yet, most of them still suffer the heartache of a broken family and some of them have been through things I cannot imagine.  Suddenly, stories and pictures of hurting children were a crisp, 3D image that would not have been possible had I not interacted with such children myself.

So, in the coming days, I hope to process a few aspects of my time in El Salvador.  God has a lot to teach me.  No doubt, my experience in El Salvador will afford me the opportunity to learn more about His kingdom and His redemptive plan.  I don't want to miss such a rare gift.

All in a Year

My coffee pot is chirping and gurgling, preparing some delicious decaf coffee for me to sip on as I enjoy this summer evening.  Tonight and tomorrow, I will be busy readying myself for a trip I'm taking with most of my family to El Salvador.  We'll be working with a children's home there.  To state the obvious, I am excited, though I am sure I will be more so once I am completely packed and ready to board a big jet out of the country.

Today, I had time to reflect on what has happened in my life in one short year.  Remembering that I was home in Wyoming for one week at this time last year, I looked up a blog post I wrote last June and was immediately flooded with the emotions I felt surrounding that post.  Trust me when I say that they weren't the happiest of feelings.  Last summer was hard.  Very hard.  It was a summer of learning to trust Jesus when many things in my life seemed confusing.  Though I am thankful for what that time taught me, I am even more thankful that the Lord has healed my heart and has dramatically changed my circumstances for the better.  He did it in one quick and action-packed year.  Amazing.

So, as I stare into the horizon, I feel myself straining for a glimpse of the adventures coming my way.  No doubt there will be exhilarating, life-giving adventures as well as adventures that may throw me for an unwanted loop or two.  That's okay.  It's bound to happen, but there is no use dwelling on all the "what-could-happen"s.  What I do know for sure is better than any other knowledge I could gain---that I serve a Savior who will never let me fall.  I serve a Savior who is in the business of redeeming a fallen world and He has my ultimate good in mind.  Amazing.

Time to make some banana bread with the over-ripe bananas piled on my kitchen counter.  Over and out for now.