Last week, José and I had the opportunity to meet with some people in the community. After our conversation and a time of questions, an older gentleman stood up and thanked us for the work with the community. He said we were different from others who come to the trash dump to take pictures of the people and then leave, never to return.
It’s grievous to think these people are sometimes treated like animals at a zoo—visited, photographed, and then forgotten. These are people made in the image of God. They are not just stories of misfortune for us to glance at, take pictures of, feel sorry for and then move on with our lives. They have hopes, dreams, pain, and sorrow just like everyone else. 
Thank you for making it possible for us to be here. We are grateful for your partnership in this work. We appreciate your financial gifts, but even more, your prayers—asking our Creator to pour out His blessings on this community. And I hope many of you will one day visit this community—or others like it—not just to see, but to connect with the people. Come to listen to their stories and to see them as fellow image-bearers, just like you.  I believe you will be challenged and refreshed with a different perspective on life.
It can be unsettling to come to this community, and it’s impossible to spend time here without having your beliefs challenged. Watching people live on the very edge of survival—and witnessing how they’re treated, both by others and within their own community—forces a confrontation with what you really believe. I’ve come to realize that many of the beliefs I thought were rooted in the word of God were more grounded in an American middle-class version of Christianity.
It’s unsettling when your core beliefs are challenged. But if you’re willing to take the risk, that unsettling journey can become one of the most challenging and rewarding paths toward discovering what’s really true.  An ancient writer once said he hadn’t yet grasped it all or reached perfection, but he pressed on, hoping to take hold of the One who had already taken hold of him. 
That same writer also spoke of discovering the secret of being content—whether well-fed or hungry, in abundance or in need. I was thinking about those words as I looked at this small house. The grandmother and mother were down by the creek, washing clothes in water that flows downstream from a pig farm. And I found myself wondering: Could I be content living here?

A great question, one I don’t have the answer to, and don’t pretend I do.  Grateful for what has been entrusted to me, and hopefully will use it well for His kingdom.
This week, I was reminded that Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey before He was crucified. There are many donkeys here in the community, and I believe Jesus would be perfectly at home riding into this community on one of them. 
Death has been defeated—so we live with hope.