Red Clay, Grey Dust, Black Loam

In Georgia, USA, it’s a red dirt. It covers your shoes when it’s wet and sticks. It’s like clay. In Lima, Peru, in South America it’s a grey dust. It covers everything all the time! We are from New England. The dirt there is rich dark loam and it doesn’t seem to be a problem at all to those of us who were brought up in that area. But in Georgia and Peru we seem to notice these things. Not true for those who have lived in Georgia since they were little, and those who have lived in the suburbs of Lima all their lives, they don’t notice or even care! Why? Because it is HOME! And we have come to realize that children are children everywhere and home is where they like to be. Furthermore, we are just like children, comfortable at home. Today I think, where is home? Is it where the loam is in abundance, or the red dirt, or the grey dust?

In a recent visit to Sector 8 and 7, the poorest of the areas around our home town in San Juan de Lurigancho, children run up beside us laughing and giggling, keeping a little distance, not sure why these foreigners (don’t they realize we live here, too?) are here with their camera. They hope Don will snap another picture of them, and hope he will let them see themselves on the screen after. It’s a little magical to them, I’m sure. Since we are visiting the local AWANA club, there is a little sense of belonging on both their part and ours. It’s okay that we are there. They accept us. Before our visit is over they come closer. They eagerly accept hugs, give high-fives, and thank us for coming. We leave with a memory that cannot be erased. It is of children with big dark eyes, broad smiles, tattered clothes and shoes, but there is a radiance shining that speaks of pure beauty. These are the children Jesus loves and we have come to love them too. This is home!

We recently visited Kurt and his family in New Hampshire. Ahhh the pleasure of being back home. Everything brought back great memories and there was a comfort that surfaced within us that seemed to be buried for over 20 years! Quaint homes, country roads. It was so good to be home.

Let’s turn the clock back a few years in time. We are visitors in Peru for the first time. We walk through their poverty…their dirt…their neighborhood. Our eyes strain to see more, to travel over the rocky paths…as far as we can see. The area is considered ‘not safe’ but we feel the presence of the Lord. Our thoughts continue to travel where our feet cannot go. We try to imagine this as home. We walk the long, long stairway part way up the hill. What must these homes be like? Small plywood shacks, or cardboard lean-tos. With or without running water, electricity, are they warm, or hungry?

The passing thought was: What if He called us to call this place? What if He wanted us to live here to share His love with the least of them? Of course, Yes! But I know that’s not what He has in store for me! I answered far too quickly…"Yes, Lord, I would go!" It’s easy to answer ‘yes’ when I know it’s not even a dim reality. After all, we were here on a short little mission trip! Little did I know…it was His plan.

Today, another thought now comes to mind…since this is now a reality! Jesus left His perfectly beautiful glorious home, left His riches, came into our dirty home experienced our black loam, red clay and grey dust. He left His home and came to live in ours! Here on earth and in our lives. We read in scripture it was not a ‘safe place’ as He was despised and rejected by man, but He felt the presence of His Father!

Today, as we walk in the sector neighborhoods, we then return to our home (the one in San Juan de Lurigancho!) We enjoy many of the conveniences of the USA, but with the limitations of Peru. We thank God for our blessings and His presence. Somehow, from all of this we feel we are rich in the midst of their poverty. They feel the same way, rich from knowing Jesus although they are poor. But none could be happier than all of us together knowing Him!