Julie Rushton

So, here we are back in our own homes. I've been lucky enough to have had a lot a time to sit and think since returning. I've mulled over the things that we did and saw in Guatemala and thought about why God took me there.

Initially, I wanted to go because I believed in this idea of a "Vision" Trip. Catching a vision appealed to me and I wanted to be impassioned, "set on fire" to use a Christian cliche. But I don't think that this was the reason that God took me.

Part of me went hoping to be used. To "give of my gifts" seemed like the appropriate motivation. But, though I worked hard at my "job" using my talents in Guatemala, I don't think that this was why God allowed me to go either.

I wasn't there to get "gung ho" about missions, I wasn't there to offer anything that I had.

Instead, I was there to be humbled.

At every turn I was confronted by saints from whom I had/have so much to learn.

Tita, the Mother Teresa of La Limonade, strong and full of love. In watching her fight and even risk her safety for children who have "no societal worth," I was humbled. Lord, give me courage even a fraction of Tita's.

Ignacio, chaplain to gang members exponentially removed from society, passing through many walls both physical and societal to sit with Guatemala's "worst." Sitting, listening, caring, himself an ex-gang member offering peace that passes understanding. I was humbled. Lord, give me mercy, not pity that walks by, but mercy that sits and listens even to those that make me uncomfortable.

I was humbled also by the gang members themselves. Standing in a small circle we asked them what they had done to be in prison. All of them had committed murder. I wasn't struck by their sin, but rather my own. I had such an overwhelming sense of my own guilt. In the eyes of God we are the same. How often have I hated someone, and by Christ's words, murdered them in my heart. My sentence should be the same. Lord forgive me for making light of my sin, and thus making light of my redemption.

Maida. The dream home that she and her husband spent all their finances and a year of work to make livable, was mostly destroyed by a flood. Half of their house was washing away in front of their eyes and her husband said, "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." Though other groups have come through and planned to help Maida with her house she pointed them towards others who "needed it more." Lord, give me the faith of Maida.

I am so thankful for the chance to have met these people and the countless others that we came into contact with in Guatemala. Praise God for these saints and the things that God is teaching us through their lives, may we live out these prayers here in Whatcom County.

How 'bout those Olympics?

Hi everyone.

Pictures are (finally, slowly but surely) making their way onto the internet. Apologies for the delay - it's been a difficult week. For those of you who don't remember, all you have to do to access them is click on the "pictures" link in the right-hand bar. I'll try to have them all up in the next couple of days - just keep checking back. 

Thanks,

Tim

Reflections on a cop in a gang prison!

Greetings from Guatemala...Amanda & I are doing well and really enjoying the challenges that the Lord has placed in front of us this week. Sorry it took so long for me to blog, but our schedule has been full as we are trying to be used by God alot during this vision trip. I would like to share the experiance of visiting the gang prison on Friday morning. Prior to the trip I wanted nothing to do with it as I truly feared that I could be facing a serious threat to my life as the police down here are very cruel to the gang members, and the police are their enemies as well. Yet through Joel´s contacts and Ignacio, who does the prison visits and ministry, I was comvimced that I should go into the prison and even speak to them. As Joel introduced me to the gang members as a police officer from the U.S., I saw their faces change some, and I became quite uncertain for their response. Prior to that the conversations with them was very cordial and I really enjoyed hearing their stories´; and came to realize that in so many ways we were the same, and that as someone once said, ¨everyone you meet is someone that God loves unconditionally¨ I began to apologize for the many police officers who may have treated them poorly, which is so common in Guatemala and other Latin American countries. I thanked them for allowing me to be a guest in their house, because they did in fact welcome me into their homes. Then the realization that only by God´s wonderful grace was I where I was in life, and they were where they were in life: it was then very hard to speak as the tears flowed down my cheeks. At that moment the Lord spoke loudly into my heart and reminded me that I too have not always been the loving servant to the least, the last and the lost! It was an amazing experiance where the Lord had me right where he wanted me to be, even though I did not want to be there. I pray that I will always remember that experiance and remember that the Lord wants me to open my eyes to the least, last, and lost in Lynden. Thanks so much for all your prayers and support to this ministry. Mom (New Jersey mom), thanks for being such an awesome prayer warrior for our group. God is answering your prayers! God bless and see you back in Lynden soon!
Stuart (& Amanda!)
P.S. To my wonderful bride Karen, and awesome sons Adam & Nicholas-we miss you alot and love you even more!

Prison Experience

Hi this is Julie Bratt here! I wanted to tell you a little bit about the prison experience we had as a group today. Going into the day, I really did not know what to expect. I knew that we were going to visit some guys who had been a part of a specific gang, but other than that I was not sure what would be happening. Joel Van Dyk explained that these guys had their own place in the prison because of the severity of their crimes. He mentioned how a lot of the people in the other part of the prison would love to get their hands on these gang members. If that does not make you a little nervous, I do not know what does! When we got there, we were encouraged just to mingle and talk with the guys. I did not think that I would be very good at this considering my Spanish is less than adequate but the guys were very understanding! They were so receptive and appreciated us coming to visit them! They were actually a really fun group. I was talking to some of the guys (using my wonderful broken Spanish) and got Tami and Kelly to play a 3 on 3 basketball game with me against a couple of the guys. The room was very small but they had a hoop, so we challenged them to a little game! It drew quite a crowd...I do not know if that was because none of us were really that good, or if it was because us girls looked funny playing basketball in long skirts against guys filled with tattoos. Either way, it was really fun and the guys seemed to enjoy it!
The time spent there was so good. Even though these men had committed some of the worst crimes, I did not want to have that be the only thing that I saw in these men. So many of them really just wanted to know about us and who we were and what we were doing there that I forgot about the reason they were in the prison to begin with. I am so thankful for the ministry that God has brought to those men and I hope that we can all continue to pray for them as they figure out their identities in Christ!

Update - August 1

Greetings, everyone.

Apologies for the lack of posting over the past couple of days - they have been fairly busy.

Yesterday was the end of our VBS programs both at Casita Benjamin and the school in La Limonada. The final sessions went well in both places, but the goodbyes were difficult. These kids have stolen our hearts over the past few days, and many of us would like nothing better than to stay with them and try to protect them from the hardships that they will undoubtedly face. La Limonada is bewitching in the sense that when we walked through it, we couldn't but help but notice a sort of unconventional beauty in the cobbled-together houses, the bright paint colors, the flashes of vegetation, the stray dogs padding down the twisting streets. And that carries over a bit to working with the kids. They're hilarious and kind and beautiful and fun. Sure, they fight over losing a game or try to steal Play-doh, but what kids don't? (YOUR kids, right?) But once you say goodbye and head out on a few house visitations, you are forced to toss out whatever sentimental vision of their life you had in mind. We visited one woman who is taking care of four of her grandchildren because her son is in jail and his wife doesn't have much to do with them. They live in a damp, smoky concrete cubbyhole. If and when the father gets out of jail, it's no promise of a better life, either, because he has a drinking problem. Or there's the group of children who are living together without parents or any adults, for that matter. Or the family who just lost their father to gang violence. Or the woman who is suffering from cancer and can't help support her family. How can we just leave these children, especially when they seem so ecstatic to see us? It was really, really difficult.

Last night, after finishing up at La Limonada, we headed to Pollo Campero (a classier Guatemalan version of KFC - they make their own ketchup in-house) to meet with Shorty, a man who used to live on the streets but has since started up a ministry for homeless people. We heard a testimony from his friend Abraham while eating dinner, and then headed across the street to help put on a street ministry for those living in Parque Concordia. The original plan included a clown, a drama, and us sharing some songs and testimonies. Unfortunately, due to some pretty heavy rainfall, we had to cut it a bit short, but we were still able to share a few songs and serve them hot meal. We also gave Shorty and his people the blankets and quilts that were sponsored at the auction, and they distributed them for us. As Stuart pointed out, getting soaked out in the rain gave us a small taste of what they had to deal with all the time. By the time we got back to Seteca, everyone was pretty wiped out.

Except for Joe, Jerry and Greg, who spent the day in La Limonada working at the construction site, today involved visiting the prison in the morning, which Julie has written about above, and then heading to Zona 1 of Guatemala City for some sightseeing. Most of our time was spent in the Parque Central, a beautiful square flanked by the palace, the cathedral, and a Wendy's, among other things. After learning that we wouldn't be able to tour the palace, we hung out in the cathedral to avoid a downpour, and then spent some time getting coffee and/or getting heckled in the market. Now we are back at Seteca. Tomorrow we head out quite early to spend some time at Lake Atitlán. Hopefully, sometime tomorrow, I will be sitting in an internet cafe with a high speed connection, uploading pictures by the dozen.

Thanks again for your support - we can certainly feel your prayers.

Update from Mariah - Tuesday July 29th

This morning we went to Casita Benjamin and it was a wonderful second day. In the afternoon, we got right on the bus headed over to La Limonada to do yet another Day Camp for the kids in a school that Tita is trying to start up on the other side. I was really nervous for this because they just started that school about a week ago and the kids never really had any school experience before. I went there expecting mass chaos and crazy kids that wouldn't listen, but it ended up being amazing. We didn't think the kids would know the songs but they knew every single one. The loved the puppets so much and they liked making the crafts. All the kids are so cute and you never want to leave them. Thursday is going to be very hard.
After we left the school we went to the other side of La Limonada to Tita's other school that has already been around for a while. (La Limonada is divided in half by different gangs. It is very dangerous for one side to go to the other. Don't worry mom, we were safe with Tita! :) ) We divided into three different groups and left with seperate leaders to do some house visits. The first house that my group went to was a small small tin shack at the top of a hill, but the bottom of a larger hill, and nine people lived in it. When Gary asked for prayer requests so we could pray for them, the father asked for us to pray for their tortilla business and the grandmother said they were already so blessed. It struck me then that we live where we take so much for granted and how we always want more, a bigger house or whatever, and these NINE PEOPLE are living in one tiny house. It was unbelievable how guilty I felt. We tried other house but no one was home or answering. So we went to our leaders house which some of the guys from our group were rebuilding for her. A mudslide went through and destroyed part of her tin house and they are remaking it with cinderblocks. She told us the whole story and Gary translated for us (Thank You!)
Now we are back at SETECA and it is almost time for supper. So mom and dad, i miss you and love you but i still want to stay here longer =)

Mariah

Reflections on El basurero

Greetings! This is Shelly Hendricks writing. :) Yesterday our group visited el basurero - the garbage dump - and these are a few things I wrote down yesterday as I reflected on my personal experience there.

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My heart is so full right now. I feel helpless and unable to respond properly to the experiences I had today as our group visited the garbage dump.

The garbage dump is located on the far end of the national cemetery in Guatemala City. When we arrived at the look-out, Joel VanDyk challenged us to take 15 minutes of silence to take in the sights and sounds around us and to try to understand them with our hearts. At that time, I walked down to an edge that overlooks the dump and, with the sun beating down on me, witnessed hundreds of ugly black vultures eerily circling the vast area of garbage, swatted at the little bugs and flies swarming around and landing on my arms and clothing, and watched as dump trucks and bulldozers skimmed the tops of the ever-growing mound of trash to deliver and move the layers of garbage for hundreds of people to sort through to make a living finding scraps of plastic and metal to sell.

Earlier today, we spent time playing with many of the kids whose parents work day after day rummaging through garbage that has already been rummaged through by the truck drivers. It is difficult to connect the two experiences together: the joy on childrens’ faces as they sang the Spanish version of “Allelu, Allelu, Allelu, Alleluia – Praise ye the Lord!” and their parents’ smelly, dirty workplace filled with death and despair.

After our 15 minutes of silent reflection, we gathered in a shady area to overlook the workers below as Joel proceeded to read Judges 19 – a story rarely/never preached on in the church because it is a passage that many Christians don’t know what to do with. It’s the story about a concubine who is treated in the most atrocious ways and then is cut up by her husband/master into 12 pieces and sent to all the tribes of Israel. At the end of the chapter it says that happened in order that the people would consider and reflect on how he had treated her when he had intended to go and speak tenderly to her. There is nowhere in the Bible where this concubine is named. We known nothing about her other than the fact that she is from Bethlehem (can you think of anyone else who was from Bethlehem? Yup, Jesus.).

This story, I believe, is in the Bible because there are many people in the world – like those in el basurero – who can relate to her story: the nameless, mistreated and abused – the least, the last, and the lost of places like Guatemala City and Grand Rapids and Lynden – the people who are cut out of society and forgotten.

How does one from Grand Rapids, MI or Lynden, WA or from any other well-to-do area of North America respond to this? How does one take these experiences – these sights and sounds – from Guatemala to their home? How can I, not having ever experienced anything like what I saw today, even attempt to understand what they are going through? How can I return to my house, my car, my job and my everyday life with the image of the garbage dump burned in my mind? How am I to live? How can I incorporate the experiences of the people here in Guatemala with my job as a Spanish teacher? How can I, in my own small way, help others who have never experienced this try to understand the more common experiences of people around the world in a non-“I’m-happy-I’m-not-them” or a “wow-that-sucks-to-be-them” kind of way?

One of the things we discussed in our evening devotions tonight was lament and how many Christians don’t have a language for lament or any idea how brokenness and pain fit into the Christian story (other than the Bible-school answer of “we sinned so crappy things have to happen”) because we preach a message of hope and of peace. And, although it is true that God is sovereign and is in control of the situation and can see the bigger picture of why things happen and how he will use them for good in our lives, I think we can too quickly gloss over the reality of brokenness and the need to be able to say, “Yes, this sucks – I am hurting and nothing you can say right now will make me feel better because this is not the way God created the world to be.”

There are times when I love my life on earth and I am not eager for Christ to return because I truly love living my life; however, there are times like today when I pray, “Come, Lord Jesus, come!” because this world is so messed up and broken and we are in desperate need of redemption.

As I looked over the dump and the constant movement of machinery, people and vultures, these lyrics from the chorus of “Multiply Your Love” – a song that our group has sort of taken as our theme song – kept playing over and over in my mind:

Let us see your kingdom come
to the poor and broken ones.
Let us see a mighty flood
of justice and mercy, O Jesus.
Let love be multiplied.

I’m not sure where to go from here. I have a lot of questions and no answers. As Joel challenged us, I am going to do my best to contemplate and to ponder the images I saw today so that it sinks into my heart and changes me from the inside-out – then, maybe a few more people who are the least, the last and the lost in this world will again have names.