Day 3 in Honduras: The Dump
My heart began to beat faster and faster as the truck ascended the hill to the city dump of Tegucigalpa. Silence filled the cab. All eyes stared out the windows at the trash that accumulated on the sides of the dusty dirt road. My friend, Lacey, had been to the dump before, so she attempted to prepare me for this event as much as she could, but I still knew it was going to be difficult. I knew that it was going to stink unlike anything I had ever known. I knew that there would be huge buzzards, cattle, and grungy dogs scavaging around the trash heaps. I knew that dust, dirt, and trash would blow up into my eyes and face. I was prepared to enter one of the nastiest places that I have ever been. But that's not what made it so difficult.
People live there. Men, women, children, babies, little old ladies, girls my own age, pregnant mothers. One thousand people. They wake up every day and compete with the buzzards to find food, or at least some sort of something that they might could sell in order to buy food. They are the people who cannot work because jobs are scarce...or because they have a disability...or because if they don't do something they will starve. Or because they were born and raised there. So they come to the dump, a place of absolute hopelessness, and sort with their bare hands through piles of butcher scraps, guts, junk, and trash from the city. Think about what you throw away in your trash can. That's what these people live on because they have no where else to go. They are what some might label the absolute outcasts of society. But that's not who Jesus says they are.
No, that's not who Jesus says they are.
God knows each and every one of their names because He knit them together in their mother's wombs. He knows all about them because He created each one with unique gifts, abilities, and smiles. He looks upon them with love glistening in His eyes. He values them as His own treasured creation. But I can only imagine how His heart breaks when He sees how they live, for He did not create them for hopelessness, despair, and rejection. He did not create them to be cast out and neglected. He did not plan for them to live their lives in suffering and pain. He did not design them for the dump.
And that is why we went. To love. To respect. To communicate value. In the name of Jesus, we stepped out of the van and into their world. We looked them in the eye, called them by name, shook their hands, and wrapped our arms around them in tight embraces. We fed them a bowl of beans and rice with tortillas and gave them a bag of cool, clean water. We talked with them, asked about their families, and even prayed with a few who were willing. We even played a little "futbol" right there in the dump. We spoke love to them, touched them without reservation (even though they were filthy), and showed them by our love that they mattered.
Lacey had told me that the last time she went to the dump, the thing that struck her the most was the hopelessness that she saw in people's eyes. She said their eyes were dead. Taking her words to heart, I was expecting to see that hopelessness in the eyes of the people I met, but I did not. Instead, I saw smiles! I heard laughter in a place where I never expected to hear it. I saw hope in people's faces as they realized that they were not untouchable, but valuable and respected by us.
The missionaries in Tegucigalpa have been going to the dump on a weekly basis for over a year. They are now actually recognized and trusted by the people there. What a difference God's love has made in that place - it has brought hope into people's eyes. It has helped people to realize that they are worth more than the trash that surrounds them. It has brought forth light in the darkest place on earth.
I saw light pierce the darkness in the dump. I watched the shadows of the enemy flee at the presence of the love of the Lord. Just a simple handshake, smile, or word of encouragement was all it took to scatter the darkness and hopelessness. There is no darkness too deep to be overcome by the incredible power of God's amazing love. Like a ray of bright light, our small gifts of love penetrated the darkness like a visible beam of beautiful light.
I went home from the dump and cried. Though God is actively working there, it is still a very ugly place. I was angry. I was guilty. The sin and injustice of this world ripped at my very being. And my heart was absolutely broken into a thousand pieces. I questioned God. I pleaded with Him. And I begged Him to intervene...to do something...anything. You can't go to the dump and not feel something painful deep inside you. You know that something is not right, but you feel so powerless to do anything about it.
In my tears and brokenheartedness, Lacey wrapped her arounds around me and whispered, "Let your heart break for the things that break God's heart." Then she gently began to sing, "Greater things have yet to come, greater things are still to be done in this city." Though my heart was breaking, God reminded me of the light that I saw in that place - the light of His love. He helped me to remember that He is working and that He will continue to work long after we have left.
Know that there is something horribly wrong in this world. We live in a broken and sinful place where unjustice does exist in the lives of real people. Let your heart break for the things that break God's heart. Plead with Him to rescue those men, women, and children who work and live in the dump. Pray for them to know their value in Christ. Pray for them to know Christ. Please pray for people to be willing to go to the dump and keep ministering and working with these people. Pray that they will have wisdom to know what to do to rescue them from this life that God did not intend for them to live. But at the same time, know that "Greater things have yet to come." God is working in the dump, slowly bringing hope into people's eyes. There is no darkness too dark for God's light to overcome. Trust me, I saw it with my own eyes.
To learn more about the Tegucigalpa dump, see video images, and hear interviews, watch this documentary online by clicking here http://www.vimeo.com/14121449 or searching "The Dump on Vimeo" in your Google search bar.
People live there. Men, women, children, babies, little old ladies, girls my own age, pregnant mothers. One thousand people. They wake up every day and compete with the buzzards to find food, or at least some sort of something that they might could sell in order to buy food. They are the people who cannot work because jobs are scarce...or because they have a disability...or because if they don't do something they will starve. Or because they were born and raised there. So they come to the dump, a place of absolute hopelessness, and sort with their bare hands through piles of butcher scraps, guts, junk, and trash from the city. Think about what you throw away in your trash can. That's what these people live on because they have no where else to go. They are what some might label the absolute outcasts of society. But that's not who Jesus says they are.
No, that's not who Jesus says they are.
God knows each and every one of their names because He knit them together in their mother's wombs. He knows all about them because He created each one with unique gifts, abilities, and smiles. He looks upon them with love glistening in His eyes. He values them as His own treasured creation. But I can only imagine how His heart breaks when He sees how they live, for He did not create them for hopelessness, despair, and rejection. He did not create them to be cast out and neglected. He did not plan for them to live their lives in suffering and pain. He did not design them for the dump.
And that is why we went. To love. To respect. To communicate value. In the name of Jesus, we stepped out of the van and into their world. We looked them in the eye, called them by name, shook their hands, and wrapped our arms around them in tight embraces. We fed them a bowl of beans and rice with tortillas and gave them a bag of cool, clean water. We talked with them, asked about their families, and even prayed with a few who were willing. We even played a little "futbol" right there in the dump. We spoke love to them, touched them without reservation (even though they were filthy), and showed them by our love that they mattered.
Lacey had told me that the last time she went to the dump, the thing that struck her the most was the hopelessness that she saw in people's eyes. She said their eyes were dead. Taking her words to heart, I was expecting to see that hopelessness in the eyes of the people I met, but I did not. Instead, I saw smiles! I heard laughter in a place where I never expected to hear it. I saw hope in people's faces as they realized that they were not untouchable, but valuable and respected by us.
The missionaries in Tegucigalpa have been going to the dump on a weekly basis for over a year. They are now actually recognized and trusted by the people there. What a difference God's love has made in that place - it has brought hope into people's eyes. It has helped people to realize that they are worth more than the trash that surrounds them. It has brought forth light in the darkest place on earth.
I saw light pierce the darkness in the dump. I watched the shadows of the enemy flee at the presence of the love of the Lord. Just a simple handshake, smile, or word of encouragement was all it took to scatter the darkness and hopelessness. There is no darkness too deep to be overcome by the incredible power of God's amazing love. Like a ray of bright light, our small gifts of love penetrated the darkness like a visible beam of beautiful light.
I went home from the dump and cried. Though God is actively working there, it is still a very ugly place. I was angry. I was guilty. The sin and injustice of this world ripped at my very being. And my heart was absolutely broken into a thousand pieces. I questioned God. I pleaded with Him. And I begged Him to intervene...to do something...anything. You can't go to the dump and not feel something painful deep inside you. You know that something is not right, but you feel so powerless to do anything about it.
In my tears and brokenheartedness, Lacey wrapped her arounds around me and whispered, "Let your heart break for the things that break God's heart." Then she gently began to sing, "Greater things have yet to come, greater things are still to be done in this city." Though my heart was breaking, God reminded me of the light that I saw in that place - the light of His love. He helped me to remember that He is working and that He will continue to work long after we have left.
Know that there is something horribly wrong in this world. We live in a broken and sinful place where unjustice does exist in the lives of real people. Let your heart break for the things that break God's heart. Plead with Him to rescue those men, women, and children who work and live in the dump. Pray for them to know their value in Christ. Pray for them to know Christ. Please pray for people to be willing to go to the dump and keep ministering and working with these people. Pray that they will have wisdom to know what to do to rescue them from this life that God did not intend for them to live. But at the same time, know that "Greater things have yet to come." God is working in the dump, slowly bringing hope into people's eyes. There is no darkness too dark for God's light to overcome. Trust me, I saw it with my own eyes.
To learn more about the Tegucigalpa dump, see video images, and hear interviews, watch this documentary online by clicking here http://www.vimeo.com/14121449 or searching "The Dump on Vimeo" in your Google search bar.
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