To Change a Life

The past two months here in Peru have been such a privilege. In fact, it’s been more than a privilege. I count myself lucky after looking back at what my teammates and I have accomplished. We’ve done well. Already I see my teammates establishing and setting close relationships with neighbourhood kids, peers, and adults we have come into contact with. I can tell how meaningful those relationships are when I see one of my friends grab a shrieking, giggling child and swing him in for a hug. And relationships deepen through the little things. I never thought of myself as a person who loves to receive gifts, but receiving a watermelon or specially chosen beaded bracelet fills me with so much gratitude and actually HUMBLES me. I find myself thinking about what little things I can do to make the people here happy, whether it’s relentlessly working on translating a couple important words of encouragement, giving a hug to a little child, telling someone you love them, or planning to buy a soccer ball just to see the genuinely surprised and grateful smile you get in return after giving it.

These are priceless moments.  But I know that I didn’t come here to just build relationships and make priceless moments. I came here to make an impact. As much as they are impacting me, I want to impact them. I don’t always know how to do that though. It’s easy to have a surface-based friendship with someone. It’s hard to intentionally turn that friendship into one of depth…especially when a language barrier exists AND when you have only a short amount of time to establish that friendship.  So because of that problem, before we went onto the river for river ministry, I asked God to allow me to connect or potentially impact at least one person in each village.

The two week trip turned out to be a blessing not just because of the struggles we faced, (sickness, living conditions, mosquitoes and horseflies, and no comforts whatsoever), but also because God facilitated opportunities for us to build relationships with the people. I never knew that in a span of two days I could already begin to feel deeply attached to a person. That when I looked at them that it was possible to feel such an ache, such a longing for God to bless them and for their lives to be deserving and good to them. I didn’t know that fiercely praying for a young child’s life could be so grieving because they emanate so much innocence and purity and that is something I know the world will taint as they grow up. And so I pray for God to protect them. But I can’t ask prayers that divert God’s will. I can’t ask for pain to be withheld, for them to never experience suffering that God could intend to grow and mature them. I never knew I’d be praying to God asking Him to remember mercy in their lives. I didn’t know they would mean that much to me. But they do. And God was faithful in bringing a different person to me in each village, though I will only talk about one. 

Meet Solomon. Though he is mischievous and was one of the first and few brave ones to jump on our boat and say hello, he is a sweetheart.  Between deviously smiling at me at all the wrong times (like during team time or prayer time or church when I was supposed to be focusing) and sweetly seeking me out to sit next to him during VBS, he stole my heart. This little nine year old guy was super carefree. He loved showering in the rain and embraced the hard streams of water pouring down the roof. He liked to run around with lathered shampoo in his hair, also wearing nothing but his undies. But he loved Jesus. He would come to church, the only one decked out in a mini suit and tie. And he would faithfully read the Bible with his flashlight in the dark church. And if you knew him, you would know that he  often forgot Bible verse references, and so you would always hear him hoarsely whispering, “Pappi, donde (where)?” He was innocent, and he was beautiful. He had the sincerest eyes. Sincere when he was being mischievous (harmless fun right?) and sincere when he was serious or concerned. I’ll never forget him trotting alongside me right after I had bathed in the river, hand up on my shoulder, looking up at me, and jabbering in Spanish. Though I got to spend a little bit of time with him, he already was, to me, an embodiment of joy and faithful character. I honestly don’t know if I was able to impact him. But God gave me a connection with him. Solomon sought me out and I sought him out. Call it what you want: a simple coincidental connection or childish infatuation with another person, but I believe God intentionally places people into our lives. I still remember from when I was a child  people that said a kind word to me or took time to make me feel loved and treasured. And so that’s what I wanted to be for Solomon. He is someone that I continually want to pray for. I know I will always remember him. And I can only hope that if he remembers me, that it is with child-like fondness, that later in his life he might remember my team and might remember the girl that paid special attention to him. And maybe he would remember what we did there and how we played with him and his friends. I hope that he would take time to think about where we came from and why we came to his village. I hope in his future that his memories of us in his past will change him and move him forward into who God wants him to be. It doesn’t matter how big or small the memory is. As long as it leads to furthering his identity in Christ, I am content. As long as it impacts him or others because of the value it holds for him, I am content.