The Whole of Life

There are days in Cochabamba where the sun shines so brightly on one part of the mountain and rain drenches another. The contrasts are sharp and startling. Depending on where you fix your sights, there exists a panorama of perspectives. This is the whole of life, clarity and obscurity abiding in the same space...a beautiful thing.

From my past blog, one would think that I live in a somber and serious place...and I do spend time there. However, even my periods of meloncholy are interrupted by bursts of unbound joy and moments of sacred appreciation for life. I have learned the secret of being content at all times.

I just spent eight days in Santa Cruz, where I´ll be moving in about a month...eight days being reminded that life is grander than me. I made my bed in a place called Hogar Nacer...one of four homes being run for street kids and orphans. It means "Home To Be Born"...and that is it´s intent...to birth new creations in Christ.

As I looked through a window at the gardens and stables of the home, I saw dozens of boys digging dirt, feeding animals, and baking bread. A handful were taking advantage of the director´s absence and were competing with chin-ups on a low hanging tree branch. The scene was serene and soothing. It was hard for me to imagine that the hands of these young men had taken life, their arms had been punctured with needles, and their bodies had been savaged by unnatural and premature sex. These boys, from age eight to twenty, pestered me like little brothers do but demonstrated such affection too. Behind the jokes, lie stories of painful pasts and parents who have abused and then abandoned.

My last night at the home, we gathered in the library to sing and share a devotional. Arriving a little late, one of the guys ushered me to a front bench. Juan Carlos coaxed the chords from his guitar and the group began to sing the familiar tunes of praise. Instead of singing, I absorbed the impact of their joined voices. It was as if the combined force of their singing was one powerful breath against my back, like a playful push from a passing friend. The volume of their voices increased. It wasn´t the quality of their singing that moved me, but their passion. Be it singing for singing´s sake or a true love of God that inspired them, a beloved emotion surged within me and caused the corners of my mouth to lift in pure pleasure...God was at work.

Inside of each these boys exists consciences that battle saintly and sinful desires. They need one moment of sincere surrender to a Saviour who will never abuse or abandon them...they will learn the secret...they will see the sunshine and rain, but for the first time they will appreciate the beauty of it all.