In July 2004, six late-night hours in the streets of Mumbai changed my life. The climax of the experience was staring at police as they ripped apart a shanty-town made of poles and tarps. These “tourist police” were “beautifying” the area, removing the community from the beach so that tourists would not have to see them and get an unfavorable impression of the city. I was furious. I tried to communicate to the police that this tourist was much more upset by their actions than if I had just seen the community without the ransacking. But all I could do was stand there and watch and hope to guilt-trip the police into leaving, then assist the residents with a pittance afterwards. Other than when the police tried (and failed) to order me to leave, I didn’t seem to have much of an effect on them. By the end of that night I had developed a strong feeling that God might want me in a place like Mumbai for the rest of my life. And part of that feeling was the idea that then I could do more, then I could help give some form of real hope to those who suffered the whims of so many oppressive forces.
A few weeks ago we were on the streets of a different city, sitting with a women and children we love. We shared a few bags of food with the mother, gifts to help make life a slight bit easier in the face of the recent arrest and deportation of her 11-year-old son and illness of her 5-year-old daughter. After a short visit we left their spot on the sidewalk. We had only walked about thirty feet when I saw two police officers coming down the sidewalk on a motorcycle. The motorcycle was already ten feet past me when I realized what was about to happen. If only I had jumped in front of the cycle and delayed them by asking directions! (We really were somewhat unsure about what bus to take that hour of the night.) Instead, I saw the officers pull up to our friends, and soon mats were rolled up and bags hastily grabbed as they abandoned their spot. Only the illness of the daughter brought enough compassion from the officers that the family was able to avoid a worse fate (though more would come the next week). And as I watched, once again powerless, my mind flashed back to the night in Mumbai so many years earlier and I thought, “So what has even changed…”
As is so often true, I have to start by reminding myself that I am not their savior. I need to put down the burdens that are not my responsibility, let God do God’s work, and just focus on being as obedient as possible to what He has asked me to do. Then I have to remind myself that the greatest difference is now I am here, actively loving them. I’m not just abstractly feeling love for them, caring about and thinking of them for years but not actually participating in their lives at all (as is true for that first community that moved me). Instead of just seeing one person come into their lives on one night, this family has a relationship with our community that stretches back almost two years, and they know that we will be here for them again the next time something happens. Finally, the staff and the family are talking and sharing together about long-term hopes that could soon see fruition; hopes of land, stability, consistent income, schooling for their children, and a place in a real community. The complexities involved in creating these opportunities and coming to a place where both we and the family can really believe in such a future are many, and it is not the sort of thing that could ever have been brought into place by a one-time encounter. Whatever the outcome of those plans, we are doing our best to really love them, and that is what Christ asked us to do. In the face of so many sad events that so often feel beyond my control, I have to remember that God has just asked me to love my neighbor the way He has loved me, and not feel despair on the occasions when that just doesn’t feel like enough.
A few weeks ago we were on the streets of a different city, sitting with a women and children we love. We shared a few bags of food with the mother, gifts to help make life a slight bit easier in the face of the recent arrest and deportation of her 11-year-old son and illness of her 5-year-old daughter. After a short visit we left their spot on the sidewalk. We had only walked about thirty feet when I saw two police officers coming down the sidewalk on a motorcycle. The motorcycle was already ten feet past me when I realized what was about to happen. If only I had jumped in front of the cycle and delayed them by asking directions! (We really were somewhat unsure about what bus to take that hour of the night.) Instead, I saw the officers pull up to our friends, and soon mats were rolled up and bags hastily grabbed as they abandoned their spot. Only the illness of the daughter brought enough compassion from the officers that the family was able to avoid a worse fate (though more would come the next week). And as I watched, once again powerless, my mind flashed back to the night in Mumbai so many years earlier and I thought, “So what has even changed…”
As is so often true, I have to start by reminding myself that I am not their savior. I need to put down the burdens that are not my responsibility, let God do God’s work, and just focus on being as obedient as possible to what He has asked me to do. Then I have to remind myself that the greatest difference is now I am here, actively loving them. I’m not just abstractly feeling love for them, caring about and thinking of them for years but not actually participating in their lives at all (as is true for that first community that moved me). Instead of just seeing one person come into their lives on one night, this family has a relationship with our community that stretches back almost two years, and they know that we will be here for them again the next time something happens. Finally, the staff and the family are talking and sharing together about long-term hopes that could soon see fruition; hopes of land, stability, consistent income, schooling for their children, and a place in a real community. The complexities involved in creating these opportunities and coming to a place where both we and the family can really believe in such a future are many, and it is not the sort of thing that could ever have been brought into place by a one-time encounter. Whatever the outcome of those plans, we are doing our best to really love them, and that is what Christ asked us to do. In the face of so many sad events that so often feel beyond my control, I have to remember that God has just asked me to love my neighbor the way He has loved me, and not feel despair on the occasions when that just doesn’t feel like enough.
2 comments:
We all have to do and see things that we wish we didn't. In your case, you've seen something you wished you could change. But your decisions are helping keep you stable long-term, which as you've pointed out, is the most important thing that you can do for those you wish to care for.
You're doing good work, don't ever forget the blessing in what you do and that you love it.
Thank you so much Sarah! Have a good next couple months, okay? ;)
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