Spring 2012
The winter storms add a special urgency to the work we do in
providing shelter for families who are exposed to the elements. Most
of the families live in shanties that have a tarp roof, mud floors,
and walls that are open to cold winds and driving rains. I worked
with a group recently where it meant as much to us as it did to the
family to finish the roof and wall coverings in the freezing rain. We
were soaked and shivering as we tried to work with numb hands.
The following week, I led another group to camp in Tecate. The
surrounding hills were covered in snow. Cars and trucks were driving
around with snowmen on their roofs. We set up our tents in a hail
storm. Hot chocolate never felt so good. Even though I would not
wish for it, these harsh conditions bring home the lessons we are here
to learn about what it means to live in desperate poverty and to help
families in terrible hardship.
The poor teach us lessons about our own homes even as we build
them a new home. I once heard this lesson described as a journey to
"a holy place." We often think of holy places as cathedrals, temples,
shrines or monuments. However, when I walk onto a new job site and
meet a new family I feel like I am walking on sacred ground, a holy
place. Wherever there is poverty or suffering, there is a void, a
vacuum that can only be filled by God's love. In this case, it is
God's love being poured out through the hands and hearts of all the
participants who respond to His invitation at the beginning and at the
end of John's gospel, "Follow Me," John 1:43; 21:22.
If I may, a personal thought about God's presence in my and
perhaps your mission journey. I meet many people every week and share
a very intense experience with them, and then they leave. It is
joyful to meet and painful to say goodbye to so many new friends.
Jean Vanier, founder of L'Arche, gave me the answer to my dilemma in
the following quote: "Your joy and your pain give you a mission.
Those who came to live with you, from whom you received much and to
whom you gave much, aren't just leaving you. You are sending them
back to their schools, their homes, and their families to bring some
of the love they have lived with you. It's hard. It's painful to let
them go. But when you realize that this is a mission, you will be
able to send your friends to continue their journeys without losing
the joy they brought you."
I hope that these words comfort and inspire you to live in
mission. Peace, howie.
