Walking toward the Rodriquez house from el Refugio, I thought again about my life. I just finished a conversation with a bunch of preteens about the suffering of Jesus. While preparing the message, I was struck by the fact that Jesus said nothing.
During the sentencing.
During the 39 lashes.
The crown of thorns.
The beating with the rod.
The piercing of his side.
Hanging there.. naked..
Silence. "Like a lamb before the slaughter," as we read in Isaiah 53.
And as I share this message with 10, 11 and 12 year olds from the neighborhood of Las Violetas, I look at how they are dressed. Well, mainly two of them. Sonia and Satia, 10 years old, have rolled up their shirts to show off their belly buttons. They have the piercing there, a couple in their lips, and their skirts are very short. When I talked with Andrea G. about this later, we recognized that they have no frame of reference as to what is appropriate. They either have parents who don't care, and the girls dress as they see on the streets, or parents who are the examples of such decor.
Surprisingly, I am encouraged by this group of young girls that seem interested in coming the whole year. Please join me in prayer for each of them; and pray for us as we teach them the general history of the Bible.
And so I make my way toward Sol's house. I chat with Coco before he departs for his own. I look around at the plaza full of kids and teenagers who need Jesus. I am clad in bright pink shorts, and a shirt with lots of holes in it. I think, "I am 26 and I chose this life."
I was reading this week from a free downloadable book from Gospel For Asia's website, about the folks who say of missionaries in foreign field, "I could never do what you do." And to be honest, I could never do what they do. "But we are not asked to take someone else's charge," the book says (in my own words).
Because God will give us the grace to do exactly what we are supposed to for his glory. Each one, with a call to do something specific, just as important as the other.
And after spending the evening with Sol - preparing a skit for tonight's church meeting and watching for the 3rd time Argo - I made my way home. The bus was probably not coming, so after taking my key out of my bag, and cell phone placed on my person, I walked briskly through Las Violetas. I am afraid, and not afraid at the same time.
"What would they steal from me?" I thought as I enumerated my belongings in the bag. A crown of thorns.. or at least sticks from our recently trimmed bushes. A fake whip that I made out of a left over stick and pieces of leather I found in the back. My Bible.
It's times like these I actually welcome the thought of someone robbing me. Well, except that my backpack is pretty quality, so that would stink to lose. ha.
I am also not afraid because Jesus, as we all take the time to remember today, has risen! I choose to believe in this, that Jesus didn't just die and stay in the grave. He proved to be God by overcoming death. Which makes coming to another country to hang out with a bunch of pregnant and underdressed teenagers...
... worth it.
love and chau.