Now You See It... Now You Don't

I suppose there are signs that one is making a place more permanently theirs... for me,   the realization that some things don't bother me like they once did seems to indicate that maybe this place is becoming mine.   Adjustment.  Perspective.  Redefining Home.

These things used to bother me, but are becoming much more minor:

* blaring music in all languages from the supermarket for the entire day
* drunk men screaming as they walk down the street at 2 a.m. in front of our apartment
* the smell of raw sewage flowing on the sides of some roads
* the lack of concrete or asphalt streets
* the absence of Starbucks (well, maybe from time to time I still notice this one)
* days without water or electricity 
* garbage everywhere
* machine guns
* hanging my laundry out to dry
* free-range chickens - all around
* fireworks that sound like gunshots... all day off and on
* the smallest sink on the planet :)
* shopping each day for needed items


There are other things that I still cannot claim as 'Normal':

* Skinny 2-year old children that wear size 6 month clothes
* dirt and dust in quantities that boggle the mind
* Children with children... 13 and 14 yr. old girls pregnant
* children walking streets, eating trash and sleeping close to a random watchman
* miles and miles of open land that is void of agriculture of any type
* thousands of people utterly dependent upon the arrival of a boat for their sustenance 
* hearing Unchained Melody on the stereo across the street
* laundry that never seems to dry
* hearing my husband and 4 kids speak Spanish - what a cool thing this is!

Give me Your eyes, Lord.  Let me see the things that matter...  raw sewage, garbage and dirt are mere distractions from the things that You've shown us here.   Children matter to You... people matter to You.  Your Son gave His life for these people.  Let THAT be what I see.  




Comments

Kerri said…
Robert and I laughed some, smiled some and were touched by your list. Very, very cool what God does in us. I especially love your prayer at the end. Be encouraged dear friend!!
Holly (me.) said…
Saw a "2 year old in 6 month clothes," while going through the sizes on that list, and it caught my attention today. I meant to ask you if it was a type-o. Wish it was... There are some things that should get to us.
Amy Pratt said…
Thank you friend, for sharing this list! I also smiled at some of these and felt heavy-hearted at others. My heart breaks for some of these conditions, and it swells with love for others that are listed. Love you, friend!
Mey said…
Laura,
After much diggin' I found a journal entry written in Germany while feeling nostalgic for my native country:

"I miss the festive sounds of firecrackers disguising the sounds of firearms and reminding me how in the midst of violence and poverty there are always reasons to celebrate day & night. ...And I miss the song of roosters and the constant begging of crumbs from both chickens and chuchos as I walk down the street, & daily trips to the market with a heart full of hope for the gifts I will find and the people I will touch and they in turn will touch me. I miss how hunting for my daily provision reminds me of of how my Savior is only concerned with my daily bread as my future is sustained solely in His hope. I miss washing dishes al fresco at the pila and the vivid white made possible only by the bleaching effects of the Sun as it kisses fabric swaying in the clothesline. I miss the rainbows made of fruit and piƱatas. I miss the gratitude and joy of hosting a meal without the fear of fragile palates, dietary restrictions and intolerances; diseases often rooted in prosperity. I miss my broken country where need and desperation gives an open invitation to minister with bread and hope...

I miss your sounds & your pollution the rich shades of green and the pain of fields and people barren and hopeless; sons and daughters of war. The very same war which pushed me out of your boundaries and into more global, more advanced and more "blessed" lands. I miss the almost musical buenos dias and buenas tardes exchanged with everyone on the street without distinction of class. I miss the sincerity, devotion and enthusiasm of your pentecostal heart even as I dream of the day I can share with you the richness of doctrine so bountiful and so readily available to me....

Thank you Laura for sharing your heart. It blesses me greatly

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