Soy and I spent a summer in Guatemala seeking direction from the Lord. Many people have heard me say that Guatemala was on the bottom of our list for places to serve. We had prepared our hearts for the other side of the world, but God was quickly changing our direction.
Guatemala was too familiar. Too convenient. Been there. Done that. Did we love the people in Guatemala? Yes! However, we wanted uncharted territory. We wanted a new adventure. In so many ways, Guatemala felt like a second home. A bit too comfortable.
This particular summer, Soy and I experienced Guatemala for the first time as a family. We had been to Guatemala so many times (individually and as a couple), but this was the first time for me to return since becoming a mother. Looking back, I wonder what we were thinking! What was Soy thinking? Two toddlers and a very pregnant wife!
I had always heard about the dumps in each Guatemala community. I knew some ministries focused on helping the people who work in the dumps. Although I had seen pictures of the dump, I had never actually been to any of the dumps. Out of pure curiosity, we asked someone to take us to the local dump. We didn’t really expect to see anything new. Impoverished people who are trying to collect recycles in order to buy food for the day. Again, after years of serving in Guatemala the poverty didn’t seem to have as much of an impact on my life.
I will never forget entering the local dump and having my breath taken away by what I saw with my own eyes. I saw three young children laughing as they played with the trash from the dump. They had made a “ramp” to push a small toy car down the slope. They laughed so hard their bellies shook as the car reached the end of the ramp. They shared a drink among each other that was thrown away in the trash.
And my heart broke.
I saw the children through the eyes of a mother.
These could have been my children. But by the grace of God….
I could have been the mother looking through the trash to feed my children. But by the grace of God…
Soy and I stood at the dump with a two year old at our feet and holding a one year in our arms. I felt the kicks of our third daughter who would be born just a couple of months afterwards.
And my heart broke again.
I replay this particular day in my mind. I beg God to never let me become complacent with the needs of people—physical and spiritual.
A broken heart hurts.
I would rather have a broken heart with an eternal purpose than to live a complacent life without one.
“Lord—Break my heart for things that break yours.”
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