1 night on the street

This time when I woke up, I knew exactly where I was. It was midnight. I was in the top bunk in what used to be a boys bedroom at the Love and Hope Children’s Home, and there was a rooster crowing.

Yes, roosters crow at midnight. …and at 2am, 3am, 4am, 4:01am…you get the idea.

It was a week unlike any other. Some highlights:

• 26 children who are having Jesus built into their lives by the Word and the way their mommy and poppy live their lives. That said, all is not angelic…they are after all, kids. They have their moments as all kids do…but 90 percent of the moments with these kids are pure joy. That’s amazing, considering that 90 percent of them have come from situations where they were suffering abuse or neglect at the hands of those who were supposed to love them most.

10 other men who were working the building project. Almost all were from Cuyahoga Community Church, and all were real men - and real men of God. That’s a powerful combination.

• 2 papusas consumed…the papusa is El Salvador’s national favorite. It’s a thick, hand-made, hollowed out tortilla…in this case, filled with refried beans and cheese, and topped with a mild red sauce. Muchisimas gracias, Senorita Rosa!
• 1 spirit-filled couple. Mauricio is Salvadoran. Rachel is American. Together, they realized about 5 years ago that their dream was the same, the children they loved were the same, and…oh yeah, they loved each other, too.

Along with loving the kids, we also had the opportunity to feed “the community.” The community is made up of those in the region who lost everything in the 2003 earthquakes. The government promised housing, and a place to live. The government delivered corrugated metal, wooden poles, and a dusty plain with no electricity or water supply.

The cooks at Love & Hope work extra hours to provide food for well over 250 people. Mauricio is the preacher…and the praise team. There’s a generator to power a couple of speakers, and those of us who have hopped into the back of the pickup to go and serve what may be the best meal these people get all week.

As I watched, and then served the rice…I realized I might just be a part of the church at its most organic level. Look at Matthew 14.13 - and then Matthew 15.29…lots of ministry - then feed the people. I also thought about something else…there were a lot more people there to eat, than there were to hear Mauricio’s preaching. Did that happen in Jesus’ time, too? I wonder…

Everyone had to bring their own plate, and as I placed the rice on the plates that came in front of me, I noticed that some weren’t whole plates. By the time I was reaching the end of the line…they weren’t even plates. At the end, I was filling torn-off corners of used plastic bags. As I write this, having just had some soup in a nice, matching Pfalzgraff bowl and spoon…yes, I’m still thinking about it.

It was also at Love & Hope that I learned something important about servanthood.

My teacher’s name was Lissette. She’s around 6 years old, is missing one of her front teeth, and loves to pose if a camera is pointed in her direction.

She also knows how to be a blessing in the sweetest and simplest of ways.

At meals, she would position herself where our feeding line began. She would hand us each our fork, and make sure we had our plate. When the meal concluded, she gathered the plates, carefully stacked the cups, and wiped the countertop. That done, she had a broom in hand, and worked next to the kitchen ladies to help clean.

On Friday…the hottest day of the week, I ditched my shoes and socks at lunchtime, and worked the afternoon in my sandals. By 4pm, I was a sweaty mess with a bruised hip after pulling too hard on an axe handle…that gave way. And that’s when it happened:

As I sat in the shade, sipping my Gatorade, Lissette came up to me and smiled. “Hola, Lissette. Como estas?” I asked.

She bent down and tugged at the velcro on my left sandal strap, got it open…and pulled my sandal off. She did the same with the right, and then -

Lissette began brushing the dirt and motar dust off my feet…with her hands.

Like you, I have read John 13.1-5 many times in my life.

Like you, I have marveled that the King of the universe would do the job of the lowliest servant.

Like you, I saw it as a wonderful story.

After she had brushed the dust from my feet, Lissette carefully pushed the dust off my sandals as well.

I thought for the briefest of moments about stopping her - that she didn’t have to do that - but what would I have have said? How could I have explained the complexity of the irony, the object lesson, and my own emotions with a Spanish vocabulary that was pretty much limited to the weather, the food, and knowing where the bathroom was?

When she was finished, and my cleaned sandals were on my cleaned feet, she looked up at me and smiled. I held out my arms, and we hugged a long time.

“Gracias, Lissette. Muchas gracis.” was about all I could manage.

Someday, I hoped, I’ll be able to tell her just what a “Jesus moment” she had given me. Someday, I thought, I’ll be able to properly thank her. But then I knew -

…that on that day, when I’m able to tell her so that she will understand, I will be kneeling next to Lissette at the the foot of His throne, and I won’t need to say a word. I’ll just listen as He takes Lissette’s hand and says -

“Well done, thou good and faithful servant…”