VICENTE GUERRERO, BC, MEXICO: Our trips to
On Wednesday night we went to a small migrant worker camp that I have been to many times before. The conditions are terrible. Each family gets a 9 x 9’ living space. The rooms have one small window and a door.
All of their possessions are in that one tiny room. The area has one water tap and a couple of nightmarish outhouses. Garbage is everywhere. Barefoot, snotty nosed children play in the dirt.
The people know that when we pull up they will be given things--clothing, food or both. I raise my voice to invite everyone to gather. I tell them that they will be receiving two things: one that will last only a few days and another that has eternal value.
As I begin to share God's word and His promises, I start to think about the fact that those who are looking at me must be aware of the huge difference between themselves and me. What is going on behind their eyes? Are they listening to me and thinking that my talk is not making any difference to their condition? If they spoke up, would it be to say, "Quit talking, just do something to change my life."
There is a fight raging in me: How do I keep preaching without giving in to their despair? Do I stop because my words do not alter their situation? Do I keep encouraging them in spite of their apparent hopelessness? Do I keep giving them God's words of life in spite of the external appearances? How do the words of the gospel line up with people's reality? How can I keep on speaking in the face of the dichotomy I feel? How can I not? What is my obligation? How can I hold back from giving them what may well be the only hope that they can have? How can I keep silent, when I know, that I know, that the words I am speaking, they are spirit and they are life?
This is a spiritual attack and I fight against it. I resist that which is trying to compel me to stop. I fight back against the overwhelming feeling that all I am doing is speaking platitudes. Suddenly I become aware that the people are listening and responding - more than on any other occasion. I witness something that I have never seen before: people who had been standing in the background begin to draw near. Children standing right in front of me, who are normally noisy, fighting and playing around, are quiet and listening. The men who don't usually show interest are approaching. And when I ask them if they would like to receive Christ, nearly all respond.
We gave the food that we had brought for them and went to a second camp with a much larger population. I had the same experience in the second camp. (The first camp has five families, the second has 25, with at
least four or five per family.) When we returned to our base camp we debriefed. Everyone was feeling a heaviness and spoke of the same awareness of God's sobering, overwhelming presence during our time of
What a day...those who would not normally listen came to hear; many were added to the Kingdom, and God was glorified!
You are part of all this. Your prayers make a difference. Thank you for praying.
Asher serves with YWAM Chico’s short term outreaches. He regularly leads church groups and youth groups to
, MX to build homes and to minister to orphans. Baja California