A Missionary's Perspective

His arms

Sometimes reality seems different than it is. For over a year now, I have been visiting families in San Nicolas every Saturday to bring food. We call it a food distribution program, but it is not really about the food at all. In fact, everything we do is about building relationships and seeing people. Connecting with people and being able to better focus on what they really need. It is not an easy job. Every Saturday, I am warmly welcomed by different people, but every Saturday I also see very distressing situations. And sometimes, sometimes it grabs me by the throat. It grabs me by the throat when I enter the house of the elderly man who is lying in bed, “out” from drugs again and when I, like every time, find a huge, dirty, smelly mess in his house. It grabs me when I enter the house of the 81-year-old grandmother who can no longer take care of herself, she bossily orders the few volunteers around, who come by to wash her every day, because she feels that she is losing control even more because of their consistent expressions of love. It sometimes affects me when I think that I can only do this work for a few people due to a lack of capacity. My arms are too short to do what is necessary. Sometimes I don't know what I will encounter. Every dire situation is one too many, but they still keep popping up again and again.

And all of a sudden, there is the radiant smile of that single woman who is so proud that she painted her own house. Suddenly, I receive a photo of a tidy and scrubbed room where that family can now celebrate Christmas. Suddenly, someone shows up who comes by day in, day out to provide clean clothes and food for that grandma, someone who, despite being ordered around continues to give practical love. Suddenly, there is Jesus himself, who extends his arms despite our shortcomings, continues to serve and has already won the victory. It gives me courage to keep going, even if it sometimes seems too much.