After we were dropped off at our hotel, we all sat down for dinner, a traditional Nicaraguan meal of some type of wonderful meat and beans, and Coca-Cola in glass bottles. We learned whom we’d be sharing rooms with and we got to know one another as we laughed, joked, and bantered back and forth about our lives and ministry back home. It was a beautiful communal experience that none of us seemed to want to end. But while we sat comfortably in our chairs and filled our bellies with the best of Nicaraguan cuisine, we were warned that the next day was not going to be easy. There would be no gentle easing into the brokenness that existed in this country, and it was going to be an experience we would never forget.
I called my wife, Juli, to see how the family was doing, fill her in about all that had happened since our arrival and the people I had met, and ask her to pray for our team. When I travel out of the country, I normally don’t switch over my phone plan to work out of network and instead rely on free Wi-Fi for communication and connectivity. There’s something beautiful about unplugging and finding the freedom to experience what God has planned. When I don’t have the luxury of posting, texting, and e-mailing, I’m forced to keep my heart focused on what’s in front of me.
Juli prayed for me over the phone, and at about the same time, my roommate’s wife was doing the same for him. I still remember how oddly and beautifully timed that was. Juli prayed for security, for boldness, and that God might use me however he saw fit. She prayed that my heart would not worry about anything, that I would trust in God for what he had planned for me, and that I would come home with more understanding and knowledge than ever before. It was a mighty and audacious prayer.
After hanging up, I spent some time chatting with my roommate, Matt, then prayed and read some of my Bible before heading to bed. I felt as if God had something big he wanted to show me the next day—as though he was telling me that something great was going to happen. I sensed that God was going to blow my expectations out of the water. I went to sleep that night with my heart fixed in a posture of learning.
The next morning I was filled with excitement and hesitation as I wondered how the day was going to pan out. After we all gathered in the hotel lobby, we were given schedules that would keep us on track, as well as phone numbers in case any of us got disconnected from the group. (I’m pretty sure those numbers were specifically for me. I tend to wander.) My friend Brad welcomed all of us, thanked us for being part of the trip, and explained how excited he was for us to see the incredible work that was taking place within the organization. We gathered closer together and prayed that God would work in miraculous ways, that our hearts would be opened, and that our time in Nicaragua would not be without merit. We ended with a big “Amen” and made our way to the convoy of buses.
As the bus I was in bounced over the potholed roads, I stared out the window and tried to take in as much as I could. I forced myself to notice the faces of people we passed, the restaurants that looked as though they were about to cave in on themselves, and the plethora of livestock that roamed the streets during the early mornings. I took pictures so that I could capture the moments that I knew were already having an impact on my life. The farther we drove, the worse the surrounding areas became. While Nicaragua was quite beautiful, these areas we were traveling through were clearly hurting.
In one place, it seemed as though a bomb had exploded and everyone was living within the rubble. Whole families stood outside the makeshift doorways, leaning on the bricks that remained solid, and they smiled and waved to us as we passed by. The hardships these people were facing put a lot into perspective for me. Things I hadn’t really ever thought about until now. To think that only a few days prior, I was complaining about the speed of my Internet or that my coffee tasted a little burned. Even before we reached our first destination, I was tearing up. I quickly wiped my eyes, looked over to my friend Brad, and said, “Thank you for inviting me on this trip.” He didn’t have to say anything. He knew what I was feeling. He smiled and patted me on the back as if to say, “You’re welcome.”
Before I had any time to gather myself, the smell of rotten trash and smoke started to permeate the ventilation system of our bus. I was confused. We were on a stretch of man-made road in the middle of a garbage dump. Trash, trash, and more trash as far as the eye could see. We had arrived in a place I had only heard about: La Chureca, the largest open-air landfill in Central America.
As I quickly tried to cover my nose, I caught a glimpse of something moving among the garbage. I assumed it was a street dog or even a bird, but I was wrong.
One, then two, and then three little girls climbed out of the garbage heap, holding small pitchforks and wearing what appeared to be homemade masks to dampen the smell and filter the smoke. Our guides explained that the children were searching the dump for food and small items to sell. The pitchforks helped them avoid using their hands to dig through the rubble and possibly getting cut by sharp objects. Each girl had wood on the bottoms of her shoes to keep nails from piercing through the rubber. This can’t be real, I thought. I broke down as I realized what these little children had to go through each and every day.
But then I noticed something I’ll never forget.
They were smiling. Genuine joy. Gratefulness. Happiness.
When we stepped off the bus, nearly one hundred people emerged from the piles of garbage around us. As they greeted us and then lined up, we learned why we were here: We were to feed these men, women, and children who had to dig through the trash of this dump to find a way to provide for themselves.
I was told I could venture away from the group and spend some time walking around with three children as they dug for and scooped up specific items from the garbage: clothing, electronics, scrap metal—anything that could be sold to help provide for their families. These children were searching for things that I throw away. Items that I considered no longer useful were their means of provision.
One little girl had big eyes and a smile that could light up any room. Feeling the sun beating down on us, I took off my bandanna and placed it on her head to keep it from being scorched. She nodded as if to say thank you. I knelt down and asked her, “¿Cómo te llamas?” (“What is your name?”) She paused for a second and giggled with her friends, then gave me a big smile and said, “Me llamo Julie. ¿Y tú?” (“My name is Julie. And you?”)
Really, God? Her name is Julie? I couldn’t hold back my tears. “Me llamo Jarrid,” I said to this beautiful, joy-filled little girl who shared my wife’s name. The people around me probably thought I was crazy, but I was so overwhelmed already—and now this? I couldn’t hold back the emotion. When she pointed at the regrettably massive cross tattoo on my chest and then put her hands over her heart, smiled, and said, “Jesus!” I had to laugh. It felt as though God was speaking to me in a deep and profound way, right here in a garbage dump in the heart of Nicaragua.
I made my way back to the line of families who were waiting to obtain their bags of rice and beans, and I asked our translators how many people here knew about God or had any type of religious beliefs. He told me that many of the people were in fact part of small Christian churches in the area and that we’d later see one while visiting the orphanage and school. Some of the men even volunteered in pastoral roles, he said.
Suddenly something clicked into place. The people around me had nothing in terms of wealth or success—nothing we’d typically use to explain the aroma of joy and hope surrounding them. And yes, I was getting only a glimpse of their experience—a glimpse of the very hard realities they faced, the struggle to simply survive. But even that glimpse, even the briefest sense of the joy they lived out of despite their circumstances, reminded me of what the true source of our joy should always be: the love of God. As we embrace and live out of his love, a spirit of fulfillment brings us to a place of peace, no matter what we’re facing.
These people had nothing. But in reality, they had everything—just as you and I do, with or without any of our material successes. In t
he love of God, we have everything we need. I wish my joy for Christ in every circumstance was more like Julie’s. Later on that day, as I saw her worshiping God with lifted hands and pure joy, I sensed her fulfillment and security in knowing she was his child.
What would our lives look like if we found our purpose in the love of God and not in material things or circumstances? What lives we could truly live. What contentment we could truly find! So often we seek God’s love because we think he’ll then gift us with the lives we want, but the reality is that God’s love is the gift. That’s the prize. His love is everything our hearts and souls desire. He is what we need to weather the storms of life. The love of God transcends circumstances.
We tend to forget this in the United States. We search after worth and identity in all the wrong places: how many followers we have on social media, what kind of cars we have, the size of our houses. So many of us complain about what we don’t have, but generally, our lives are pretty comfortable. In fact, millions of people around the world are praying for the very things we take for granted—food, shelter, health care, the basic necessities of life. Many of us have rooms for our cars to live in, while others around the world are scavenging for reliable shelter. Materially, we may have it better—but do we really? Comfort makes it easy to rely on our possessions and circumstances rather than rest in the love of God. Maybe this is why Jesus said in Matthew, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (5:3, NIV).
Finding contentment and worth in God’s love is a daily fight and a daily choice. But even when that foundation is shaken, God is always there, waiting for us to turn back to him. People who have nothing or face persecution or are struggling with chronic illness sometimes seem to find it easier to rest in God’s love, because it’s easier to rest in his love when everything else is stripped away. When we have nothing else to hold on to, the gospel of Jesus transforms the way we see life. In this place, we truly get what it means to rely on God for everything in life.
Every. Little. Thing.
Whether you have hot meals delivered to your house or you’re rummaging through a garbage dump for scraps, God’s love is the only thing that can bring joy and peace and fulfillment to your life. Elisabeth Elliot said it best:
Where does your security lie? Is God your refuge, your hiding place, your stronghold, your shepherd, your counselor, your friend, your redeemer, your saviour, your guide? If He is, you don’t need to search any further for security.[8]
No matter who we are or what we’re facing, we can find unshakable rest and security in the love of God. We see the proof of this all throughout Scripture! Take Paul and Silas. Their faith in the midst of trials shows us just what it looks like to place our hope and confidence in who God is, not in who we are or what we have or what we have done.
In Acts 16:16-35, we read about Paul and Silas being thrown into prison for healing a demon-possessed girl.
One day as we were going down to the place of prayer, we met a slave girl who had a spirit that enabled her to tell the future. She earned a lot of money for her masters by telling fortunes. She followed Paul and the rest of us, shouting, “These men are servants of the Most High God, and they have come to tell you how to be saved.”
This went on day after day until Paul got so exasperated that he turned and said to the demon within her, “I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And instantly it left her.
Her masters’ hopes of wealth were now shattered, so they grabbed Paul and Silas and dragged them before the authorities at the marketplace. “The whole city is in an uproar because of these Jews!” they shouted to the city officials. “They are teaching customs that are illegal for us Romans to practice.”
A mob quickly formed against Paul and Silas, and the city officials ordered them stripped and beaten with wooden rods. They were severely beaten, and then they were thrown into prison. The jailer was ordered to make sure they didn’t escape. So the jailer put them into the inner dungeon and clamped their feet in the stocks.
ACTS 16:16-24
The demonic possession had made the girl profitable for her masters, so when Paul cast the demon out, her owners weren’t pleased, to say the least. They dragged both men to face the authorities in the marketplace, claiming Paul and Silas were breaking the law. They were stripped, beaten, flogged, and placed in an inner cell with stocks fastened around their feet.
In the midst of this horrific experience, something amazing happened: Paul and Silas began to praise God from the depths of their prison cell. When their circumstances became unbearable, they could have complained. But instead they turned to the only one who is constant no matter our circumstances. It was either complete insanity—or God’s rich love dwelling within their hearts.
Around midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening.
ACTS 16:25
Note that God didn’t stop them from being arrested, didn’t stop them from being beaten, didn’t keep them from prison just because they were his followers. When we’re in the midst of storms, he doesn’t promise that he’ll take us out of them. But he does promise that we won’t be swept away.
And so Paul and Silas worshiped and praised with no expectation that God would take them out of that cell.
Yet God did just that.
Suddenly, there was a massive earthquake, and the prison was shaken to its foundations. All the doors immediately flew open, and the chains of every prisoner fell off! The jailer woke up to see the prison doors wide open. He assumed the prisoners had escaped, so he drew his sword to kill himself. But Paul shouted to him, “Stop! Don’t kill yourself! We are all here!”
The jailer called for lights and ran to the dungeon and fell down trembling before Paul and Silas. Then he brought them out and asked, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”
They replied, “Believe in the Lord Jesus and you will be saved, along with everyone in your household.” And they shared the word of the Lord with him and with all who lived in his household. Even at that hour of the night, the jailer cared for them and washed their wounds. Then he and everyone in his household were immediately baptized. He brought them into his house and set a meal before them, and he and his entire household rejoiced because they all believed in God.
The next morning the city officials sent the police to tell the jailer, “Let those men go!”
ACTS 16:26-35
The God who allowed them to be thrown into a prison cell is the same God who didn’t allow them to be kept captive for long. He sent an earthquake that not only freed them from their shackles but also destroyed the prison walls around them. And God’s plan didn’t end with their freedom. He reached out in love to their captor—in fact, his love for the jailer may have been the very reason Paul and Silas were sent to that cell. That man, along with his entire household, chose to follow Christ. A complete heart transformation—all because two men placed their security in the love of God and not in their circumstances. Nothing could shake the foundation, which itself shook the very foundation of that prison.
We see something similar happen in chapter 3 of the book of Daniel.
King Nebuchadnezzar made a gold statue ninety feet tall and nine feet wide and set it up on the plain of Dura in the province of Babylon. Then he sent messages to the high officers, officials, governors, advisers, treasurers, judges, magistrates, and all the provincial officials to come to the dedication of the statue he had set up. So all these officials came and stood before the statue King Nebuchadnezzar had set up.
Then a herald shouted out, “People of all races and nations and languages, listen to the king’s command! When you hear the sound of the horn, flute, zither, lyre, harp, pipes, and other musical instruments, bow to the ground to worship King Nebuchadnezzar’s gold statue. Anyone who refuses to obey will immediately be thrown into a blazing furnace.”
So at the sound of the musical instruments, all the people, whatever their race or n
ation or language, bowed to the ground and worshiped the gold statue that King Nebuchadnezzar had set up.
DANIEL 3:1-7
Three men—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—had been taken captive and put in the service of King Nebuchadnezzar, who was busy directing the construction of this ninety-foot-tall and nine-foot-wide gold statue of himself for all his people to worship and bow down to. And, as we read, if anyone refused to worship it, he or she would be thrown into a blazing furnace. (A tip to anyone whose leader demands you worship a golden statue: Don’t listen. That person is crazy.)
But Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were all for the mission of God despite being captives and despite being put in a situation in which their lives were at risk.
Some of the astrologers went to the king and informed on the Jews. They said to King Nebuchadnezzar, “Long live the king! You issued a decree requiring all the people to bow down and worship the gold statue when they hear the sound of the horn, flute, zither, lyre, harp, pipes, and other musical instruments. That decree also states that those who refuse to obey must be thrown into a blazing furnace. But there are some Jews—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—whom you have put in charge of the province of Babylon. They pay no attention to you, Your Majesty. They refuse to serve your gods and do not worship the gold statue you have set up.”
DANIEL 3:8-12
These three men weren’t about to worship any god other than the one true God. And they were determined to trust the power of God in the midst of a situation most of us would try to do anything to get ourselves out of.
When Nebuchadnezzar heard that these three men were refusing to worship his statue, he wasn’t too happy.
Then Nebuchadnezzar flew into a rage and ordered that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego be brought before him. When they were brought in, Nebuchadnezzar said to them, “Is it true, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, that you refuse to serve my gods or to worship the gold statue I have set up? I will give you one more chance to bow down and worship the statue I have made when you hear the sound of the musical instruments. But if you refuse, you will be thrown immediately into the blazing furnace. And then what god will be able to rescue you from my power?”
Love Is Oxygen Page 6
