sleepless night

This girl handed me a crumpled piece of paper
 thanking me for thinking of them

 It's 3:30 am and I can't sleep.  I'm exhausted but can't turn my mind off.  Maybe its the constant pitter patter of the dog that lives on our rooftop or the annoying rooster that seems to think its cool to to sing his wake up call at all hours of the night.  It could be the rustling of Lilly banging around in her crib from time to time in her restless sleep, or the hum of traffic that flows periodically in front of our house when really it feels like its coming through my house.  Or maybe... just maybe this is as quiet as its going to get and this is my opportunity to write some.

I never use to get headaches.  I get them all the time here in Guatemala.  I think it's the constant noise or smell of diesel fumes but it could be the fact that I have 8 children in a cement house that has no sound proofing.  A hushed whisper can almost be heard in the next room.   Privacy is hard to come by and Matt and I have to get creative.  

I cut hair in a school on the outskirts of Jalapa today. The line of kids was endless.  At first they were shy but by the end of my time there they were practically hanging off me.  From the smell and looks of their hair, I'd be surprised if they washed it in awhile.  Full of lice and dust I wondered how many of them actually had water at home.  Some had such brittle hair it felt like it was breaking as I combed through it.  A sign of malnutrition and poor diet. I have seen this before here when we visited families living in the dump. I came home feeling pissed. The director thanked me as I left and handed me a list of names.  About 20 names of kids who came from extreme cases of poverty.  Multiple kid families, single moms with no income, sharing a one room smoke filled shack... barely walls and a roof to call it that.  Dads, if in the picture spending all the money for the day on booze to ease an addiction or block out the pain of their reality, leaving the kids bellies empty.  I was pleasantly surprised to see the kids eating some breakfast while I was there.  The government does provide a program that reaches eligible schools, but only if the school can get the funding do these kids get fed.  Because there is a lot of corruption here most often the money for government programs doesn't always get to the places it needs to go.  What does come through is minimal, but everything counts.  I left feeling overwhelmingly hopeless...angry and sad.  Yet the smiles on their faces were nothing short of thankfulness.  

I struggle with being a materialistic missionary.  I'm ok to go out and roll up my sleeves and get a little dirty  but feel "safe" with the luxuries of my comfort.  What would it be like to risk it all?  I argue in my mind.. yeah but they don't really know any different so they wouldn't understand..... I'm mistaken.... I find joy in good food, hot showers, entertainment and luxuries like colouring my hair.  They have a joy that no material possession can fill or no one can take from them ... really who is the one that is more poor?  I think of the story of the rich man and how Jesus asked him to sell everything he had and come and follow Him.   Jesus walked away sad... how many times has He felt sad over my inability to fully surrender my life to Him.

 Don't you ever wonder why in the world Jesus would step down from a kingdom to live a selfless life on earth...knowing full well what humanity is like.. being rejected, tossed out, ridiculed... yet He still came.. He came to surrender His life for a higher calling.  I sometimes wonder if I knew what I know now would I have ever come.  I would like to say yes but in my selfishness and lack of faith, I know I would have to think and rethink and think some more about it all.  And then there's this tiny voice inside that constantly reminds me of the short term that we have on this earth.