Her home.
Really, I think that it might be one of the economically impoverished places I have ever visited. It took us a little wandering, a couple of u-turns and guidance by phone, to find the place. We left our neighborhood and we left even the relative "smooth" of the pitted paved roads of familiarity. We found ourselves on dirt roads, perhaps made more rough by recent rains. Surprisingly, we passed some pretty nice brick houses on the way there- but lots of not nice places, too. We passed all manner of animals on the way, horses and goats and pigs and dogs and cats, wandering on the road, wandering in yards.
This family lives in a little peninsula of Mexico carved out by the river. They live in what not very long ago was dump land- as in, the ground under where we were standing was not solid, really. Maybe being surrounded by trash particularly emphasized how sad the situation is. Their house was not more than a shack. The shed for the toilet was directly behind where we were standing, a blanket nailed to the doorway covering the entrance. Certainly, it was a pit toilet at best; certainly, no sewage in that place. Garbage was everywhere, because, well, basically their yard is an extension of the dump. A little guy, not quite a year old, in a diaper and nothing more was toddling around the yard, holding on to a broken push toy. Another little girl, his sister I think, elementary school-aged, watched him. She was bright-eyed and part of me I wanted to take them both away from the garbage. Some adult family members were around. Chickens roamed in and out. A couple of dogs, both with goopy eyes and mangy fur (really mangy- not just disheveled) walked around. Horses walked around behind the house, fenced in by barbed wire marking other boundaries. There was an open fire with a grate where they were cooking- probably a pot of beans, and the smoke drifted by us. Mercifully for everyone, it wasn’t hot and there was a lot of cloud cover, so it didn’t smell at all, but even so, flies were everywhere. I can imagine the stench, the flies, on a hot, sunny day.
The lady we were there to visit probably isn’t all that old. I’m guessing late 50’s or early 60’s (but I really am a terrible guesser). She is diabetic. Her sugar numbers remain constantly, dangerously, high. She was in a wheelchair but I’m not sure how they could really push her on that uneven ground. Her left leg has been completely amputated. Her right leg is still intact but has several concerning sores. She has limited sight. She says they struggle for food. Her husband was once a trash cart garbage collector but hasn’t worked in several years. From what I understood, something happened with “los malos” and he is afraid to work. Even though that sounds lame, it is very likely very legit. The needs for this lady, for her family, are so tremendous. We prayed with her, for her health, for provision for her family, for peace and for assurance. But I confess, it can be hard for me to believe, to hope, in these situations. I know our God is sufficient and I trust that He is sovereign. But when such basic human needs are hardly being met, I wonder, do they wonder, where is God? She said that she wants to know more about the Bible, about Jesus, but obviously getting to us is nearly impossible. We need to come to her.
We left her a couple of bags from the church, the most basic of groceries- beans and rice and boxed milk and toilet paper and such. We apologized that it was so little. We left humbled. Our Aquiles neighborhood certainly would not be considered among the finest of neighborhoods by most standards. This afternoon, however, crossing back into the neighborhood and onto paved roads, it suddenly looked like luxury. Sitting in my little house later in the evening, I feel like the top 1% of the world’s richest people.
Songwriter Sara Groves sings "I saw what I saw and I can’t forget it…"
I feel the same.
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