Washed by the poor.

I'm not sure what God is doing. Perhaps it is more obvious to others. This seems to be typical of the journey--what is most obvious is farthest from the traveler's sight! There is little time to process and meditate on God's activity beyond this blog. I hope to find time when I return to the States to seek God in stillness. Until then, I find it helpful to remember and document my activity here. I thank you for all of your prayer and encouragement.

Many days ago, I posted a blog entitled "Slobber, snot, puke, and poop." I've heard from several of you that this was entertaining. I'm pleased that it was comedic in a sense but I want all to know that I meant every word. I could not be more serious. We visit this slum community at least once a day. Each time, I wrestle the impulse to recoil from the dirt and grime. Every time, I am reminded of the leper's encounter with Jesus (Matthew 8:1-4). I cannot even fathom his great desire to be touched by another human being after suffering the revulsion of others. The leper asked: "Lord, if you're willing. . ." The joy that must have come from the touch of Jesus! I pray for the willingness to touch the faces of these children who cry out for attention. Would I not be like the many who passed by the leper afraid to look, afraid to breathe! But these faces are not the faces of lepers--they are children. Their desire is the same as any other child: to be loved. I pray for this love because I do not possess it.

We've started painting a mural on the interior walls of the community's 2 classroom school. Our intent is to offer a picture of hope and love. It would be deceitful of me to allow you to believe I have any artistic value or gifting for this project. Truth be told, I'm the "paint-by-number" intern! LOL! Knowing the limit of my artistry, it shouldn't be difficult to imagine my hands covered in paint. There was more on the wall, I promise! Yesterday, as I emerged from the school, hands splotched with paint, 2 young girls quickly pulled me aside. It's important that you see what I am about to describe. If I fail to paint the correct picture, God's glory will be missed entirely.

These 2 girls have been my biggest fans since our first visit to their community. I can assure you that I did nothing to earn their attention for I certainly find it difficult to give them mine. These young girls live in shanty's without electricity or running water. The floors of their homes are dirt, yet they still remove their shoes before passing the threshold. I do not know how often they bathe or how often they clean their clothes, but they certainly try. When I see them each day, the first thing I notice is the dirt on their hands, feet, and faces. But when I emerged from the school yesterday, the first thing they noticed was the paint on my hands. So they each grabbed one of my hands, led me to their home, scrubbed my hands with lantern oil, walked me to the well, and proceeded to wash the paint off my skin. I left their community with clean hands while dirt remained smudged on theirs.

Despite their desire for my attention, I am not worthy of theirs. I am broken by my own lack of compassion and their love for me---it is surely greater. The cleanliness of the flesh is only skin deep. It bears no witness to the purity of the heart.