A Different Kind of Beautiful
"Do you like Jinotega?" Marlene asked me in Spanish.
"Oh yes!" I responded with enthusiasm. "It is very beautiful here."
"And the people?"
I hesitated for a moment trying to think of how to answer her using the little spanish that I know.
"They are beautiful, too."
At first, I gave this answer because it was the simplest thing that I knew I could say correctly. However, the more I think about it, the more I realize how adequate my answer really was.
The colorful city of Jinotega is tucked away in the middle of rich, lush mountains. The hills are steep and dynamic, covered in tropical brush. Bright orange flowers dot the hillside and colorful parakeets fly over the landscape. The sky seems extra blue and the thicks clouds are constatly changing. It truly is a beautiful place.
At the same time, severe poverty sprinkles the hillsides. Right next to the bright orange flower bush is a ten by ten house made of cardboard and sheet metal. Barbed wire marks the property line. Seven children with no pants or shoes all peek their heads out of an open doorway. Drunk men sleep in the streets that are lined with trash, food, and waste.
Natural beauty and unnatural poverty side-by-side.
Yet in the midst of some of the poorest places, a different kind of beauty flourishes.This beauty is not found in clean shirts, polished shoes, or fancy carpet. This beauty is found in the faces of children whose smiles beam when you hand them a peppermint. It is found in a church that doesn't have stained-glass windows, but they have voices that raise the roof as they sing praises to the Lord without reservation. There is nothing more beautiful than a little girl grabbing my hand as we walk down the road, or a little boy crawling in my lap so I can read him a book about Jesus, or a young lady giving me a piece of jewelry that she took off her own neck. There is nothing more beautiful than to hear the women at casa materna laugh as we wash their feet or to hear children singing along to "I've got the joy, joy, joy down in my heart...because Christ saved me!" The most beautiful thing about this place is the people. They are so incredibly rich and generous with their love and joy. It is a different kind of beautiful.
I used to think that I could help these people live better. I can give them shampoo, soap, toys, and food so that perhaps they can live a little more like me. Since I am wealthy, I share with them so they can be a little more wealthy, too, right? But God has corrected my vision to see that these Nicaraguans are the widows with two small coins that Jesus talked so highly of. They are the rich ones, the generous ones. I don't want them to be rich like me, I want to be rich like them. Instead of trying to make their lives more like mine, I want to share the love of Christ with them so that we can both become more rich. I have learned this lesson from my brothers and sisters here in Jinotega, who are the most beautiful people I know.
"Oh yes!" I responded with enthusiasm. "It is very beautiful here."
"And the people?"
I hesitated for a moment trying to think of how to answer her using the little spanish that I know.
"They are beautiful, too."
At first, I gave this answer because it was the simplest thing that I knew I could say correctly. However, the more I think about it, the more I realize how adequate my answer really was.
The colorful city of Jinotega is tucked away in the middle of rich, lush mountains. The hills are steep and dynamic, covered in tropical brush. Bright orange flowers dot the hillside and colorful parakeets fly over the landscape. The sky seems extra blue and the thicks clouds are constatly changing. It truly is a beautiful place.
At the same time, severe poverty sprinkles the hillsides. Right next to the bright orange flower bush is a ten by ten house made of cardboard and sheet metal. Barbed wire marks the property line. Seven children with no pants or shoes all peek their heads out of an open doorway. Drunk men sleep in the streets that are lined with trash, food, and waste.
Natural beauty and unnatural poverty side-by-side.
Yet in the midst of some of the poorest places, a different kind of beauty flourishes.This beauty is not found in clean shirts, polished shoes, or fancy carpet. This beauty is found in the faces of children whose smiles beam when you hand them a peppermint. It is found in a church that doesn't have stained-glass windows, but they have voices that raise the roof as they sing praises to the Lord without reservation. There is nothing more beautiful than a little girl grabbing my hand as we walk down the road, or a little boy crawling in my lap so I can read him a book about Jesus, or a young lady giving me a piece of jewelry that she took off her own neck. There is nothing more beautiful than to hear the women at casa materna laugh as we wash their feet or to hear children singing along to "I've got the joy, joy, joy down in my heart...because Christ saved me!" The most beautiful thing about this place is the people. They are so incredibly rich and generous with their love and joy. It is a different kind of beautiful.
I used to think that I could help these people live better. I can give them shampoo, soap, toys, and food so that perhaps they can live a little more like me. Since I am wealthy, I share with them so they can be a little more wealthy, too, right? But God has corrected my vision to see that these Nicaraguans are the widows with two small coins that Jesus talked so highly of. They are the rich ones, the generous ones. I don't want them to be rich like me, I want to be rich like them. Instead of trying to make their lives more like mine, I want to share the love of Christ with them so that we can both become more rich. I have learned this lesson from my brothers and sisters here in Jinotega, who are the most beautiful people I know.
Comments
Post a Comment