Reality of Living Here
I go out to the roof top and just sit quietly in the sun. Behind me, a man is working on his home an trying to get his wiring hooked up correctly. In front of me, two brothers happily play football and try to make goals between the plastic chairs. To my left, two pigeons are cooing and making themselves a little home. To my right is just more rooftops of apartments.
From this location, I can see everything. The major road, more homes and rooftops, taxis carrying men to their homes, women working within their house’s gates, and the mountainous boarder.
From this rooftop, it is peaceful. Families surround me. There is love within the gates… Perhaps not all is perfectly fine and dandy, but love does reside within families. Parents for their children and children for their parents and other relatives.
Yet it hits me, these people don’t know the real HIM.
These boys playing…. They don’t know.
The man behind me… He doesn’t know.
The women in the homes and men in their taxis….
No one knows Him.
And I can’t even say what a beautiful day it is in their language. It is frustrating and honestly brings a sense of hopelessness. (But what a relief knowing it isn’t my job to make them believe! I only can plant a seed. He ultimately waters.)
But there is more…. The physical peace I feel is only fake.
In a city just outside our mountainous walls (forty minutes away) I would probably end up shot and killed.
Our capital here is corrupt, full of war, and brokenness. This country is not safe.
This county is broken and the people here are lost.
At least in America, there is a church. Most have heard of Him at least once.
Here the world around me is dying and doing so without Him.
And I sit and listen to those around me say “where are the harvesters?”
It breaks my heart… But this is my reality here.
More workers and Interns… But especially men to teach English
For me to not be discouraged and for me to be content here in this city doing what I am called to do.
For opportunities to meet our neighbors.