As soon as she spotted the big white tap-tap, she sprinted after it as fast as her strong, little legs would carry her. The cage on wheels carrying blonde-headed cargo turned a corner, out of sight for a few paces, until it was in her vision once again. Her feet smacked the broken, rubble black top determined to gain the prize she sought. As soon as the tap-tap slowed to nearly a stop, so did her feet, but her heart beat hard and fast, already feeling the warmth of the arms that would soon embrace her.
The door opened, from it emerging a tall, white-haired, blue-eyed woman who had traversed from a foreign land with a love that knows no barriers, a connection authored by a common Creator. Arms reached down and pulled in close the girl with grit, both hearts beating wild and free, full of joy.
Cité Soleil is the poorest city in the northern hemisphere and it is where we spent much of our day, holding babies and children, and sharing the heavy burden of carrying water. The city lacks fresh water, electricity, plumbing, and much more. Like other cities around the world, she has a culture unique to her, where happiness, friendship, and love co-exist with hardship, fear, and loss. Yes, astounding poverty is the path of daily life for these precious people, but they are not their poverty.
Yesterday, Natalie reminded us that we are not the sum of a single experience or circumstance. There are many short stories that make up our whole story. While abject poverty is the reality for the citizens of Cité Soleil, it is not who they are. Like you and I, they are image-bearers of their Creator. They are individuals needing acceptance, needing to know that someone sees them- really sees them-as what lies on the exterior is looked past to see a person with feelings and needs and hopes and maybe even a dare to dream.
The apostle Paul wrote to his beloved in Rome, “Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil, hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.” During a time of great persecution for the Church, Paul was calling the Lord’s people to love and honor, not only one another as brothers and sisters, but also those outside of the church. As we heard countless cries of “Potem” (“Lift me up”) while children reached their arms to us, we had, in those moments, the opportunity to let our love be genuine and generous. It did not matter that those babies were not our own. In the fleeting moments that God gave us to see the one in front of us, He had equipped and called us to love well and show honor. In a culture where dignity is often robbed of a person even before she knows she possesses it, it is our responsibility as Christians to recognize it and respond in like manner.
#iamnotmypoverty is an allusion to the currently trending practice of aligning oneself with a particular place or movement or political stance, etc. The truth is, no one is any of those things. The truth is, we are image-bearers of a Creator. May it be that those of us who say #iamhis, see others with His eyes.
-Becky
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