Final lesson from the encounters.

Needless to say, I was pretty disappointed, distraught and a myriad of other d words from the last encounter with Jorge. I eventually just wrote the whole experience off to seeing what life is like in the slums. One of the big messages we got before we went in was not to worry if you feel like you've done nothing, just being there is enough. I entirely agree with this standpoint, but it was still frustrating since I thought I had began to see results from us being there in Jorge's life.

We eventually got back to the states for debrief in LA. We were given a four hour retreat of silence to process, pray, journal, and just spend time to listen to God. We had a really cool session just before this time which I'll talk about in the final email. Just to say though, it concerned listening to the truth of God and not the lies we/Satan tell ourselves and believe.

During the retreat, we were given a loosely guided exercise concerning 1 Kings 19 and Elijah when he fled from Jezebel. I've never really liked guided exercises, but this one seemed decent so I went for it. I read the two chapters previous to chapter 19. Allow me to briefly summarize if you're too lazy to pull out a bible and read it yourself (which I'd always recommend, but pray first).

Elijah was a prophet. He heard God's voice and passed it on to the people of Israel. During this time period, the people of Israel had pretty much turned away from God and were serving idols/other gods. There was also king Ahab, who was pretty much the worse king up to this point in time (16:30). His wife was horrible too. Perhaps you've heard of her; her name is Jezebel. Elijah comes on the seen, stops the rain for 3 years, gets fed by ravens sent by God, hangs out with a widow who has no food, but with Elijah there, she gets food to infinity, he also resurrects her son who died. After three years, he comes back and meets with Ahab. During the past three years, Jezebel's been killing off all the prophets who listen to God. Next comes a rather famous passage where Elijah calls for a show down between the prophets of Baal (another false deity) with their god and between the God of Israel.

It's an amazing passage 1 Kings 18:20-46. Read it yourself, really, do it. In fact, here's a link: http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Kings%2018:20-46;&version=50; I'll summarize the fall out: All the prophets of Baal are done, rain returns, and the people there see God is God, and turn back to Him. Oh yeah, Elijah runs faster than a chariot to make it back before Ahab. Overall, good times all around. This was a clear victory! For all that had gone wrong for anyone who was seeking God, this was a turning point. God was there, in power and He was in charge, period. It feels like the start of a revolution or something. Everything falls in place for the impending change.

Except for one thing. Jezebel learns about the contest and sends a messenger swearing to kill Elijah. Elijah sees it and runs for his life. Thus begins the focus of the guided exercise. Our team had just spent some time in Peru trying to do God's work and live the life of Christ. A lot of good had happened, but now we were back. Re-entering, as the process of returning to the home country is called, can be more difficult than the trip itself. To try to draw an analogy, think about veterans. I've never fought in a war, but I could imagine the hardest part isn't fighting it, but rather coming home. The simple objectives of win and try to survive if possible are replaced with murky slogans and ideals. The soldier has changed, grown, and been wounded, but the home community hasn't. And how cab anyone at home really understand? Stories are told, but stories don't capture life, just neatly wrapped bite-sized tidbits to inform and entertain. Enough philosophy.

So here we are back in the states after a month of varied experiences. Here is Elijah after the moment of victory, destroyed. Here he is: "And he prayed that he might die, and said, "It is enough! Now, Lord, take my life, for I am no better than my fathers!" When I read this, I was confused. What is he talking about, he just won! One crazy woman wants him dead and then this? But it is true. How quickly do I get downcast when something goes wrong. Specifically, with Jorge. Everything was going right, he was off the gas. And then, poof, gone. Defeat. It was only one thing. In fact, it was the only thing on the trip that really depressed me and ticked me off. That's how I felt, and that's what Elijah said.

Now what? Does he just crawl away and die? What is God up to here? The next section in the story of Elijah never made sense to me. At least the way it was always presented. Look at it. After sleeping and eating, Elijah makes his way to the mountain of God. I'm going to quote it from here on:

And he came there to a cave and stayed there. And behold, the word of the LORD came to him, and He said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?"
And he said, "I have been very zealous for the Lord the God of Hosts. For the sons of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, thrown down Your altars, and have slain Your prophets with the sword. And I, I alone, am left. And they seek to take my life away."
And He said, "Go forth and stand on the mountain before the Lord." And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains, and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord. But the Lord was not in the wind. And after the wind was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire was a still, small voice. (remember this part) And it happened when Elijah heard, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out, and stood at the cave entrance. And behold, a voice came to him and said, "What are you doing here, Elijah?"
And he said, "I have been very zealous for the Lord, God of Hosts, because the sons of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, have thrown down Your altars, and have slain Your prophets with the sword. And I, I alone, am left. And they seek to take my life away."
And the LORD said to him, "Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus. And when you come, anoint Hazael to be king over Syria. And you shall anoint Jehu the son of Nimshi to be king over Israel. And Elisha the son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah you shall anoint to be prophet in your place." 1 Kings 19:9-16

Ok, so if you've grown up in church or spent any appreciable amount of time within the Christian community, chances are you've heard about the still small voice. The way I've always had this passage explained to me was the following: God wasn't in the fire/wind/earthquake, He was in the still small voice. You hear God when you listen to that still small voice." I've often heard people say that they've heard the still small voice too. I'm sure they have, I'm sure I have as well. But something doesn't quite seem right about that. Can't God speak anyway He wants to? To put the God of the Universe in the box of only speaking in a tiny voice seems awry. And it is. God spoke to Moses out of a burning bush (fire). He spoke to Job out of a whirlwind (wind). I can't think of a time off the top of my head that He spoke out of an earthquake, but I know there's enough times in the Psalms where He speaks and the earth trembles. In any case, you get the point. Listening for the still small voice, in my opinion, is the wrong way about listening to God. Listen for God, pray, ask to hear, read the word, see what He does in your day, take time to listen. I can't tell you how He'll speak to you. He's God, and He's creative too. Search for Him, and you will find Him. Just don't put in Him and they way He speaks to us in a box. I'll write more about this later.

As I read this passage, the above thoughts were all I could think about. I figured I should pray and see what God was trying to say here. So I did. I asked God to show me what this meant. I think He did. Here goes:

Elijah wanted to die. He asks for it, he is down and out defeated. Yet God does something interesting. First, he gives him rest, then sends him on a crazy long journey (forty days). That's a lot of time to think everything over. Next God asks him a question. "What are you doing here?" That's a good question. Try asking yourself that question. Elijah answers, part of it is from his own life, but a lot is the state of his people. I get the sense that he is still down and out of it. "I've done everything, but nothing matters and now they want to kill me. It's hopeless!" And then God does something very interesting. Elijah's in a cave and God asks him to go out of it and stand on the mountain. But Elijah doesn't, at least not until the still small voice. He didn't go out when the Lord passed by with the wind, or the earthquake or the fire. If he had gone out in the fire, the wind or the earthquake, he would have died. He would have gotten his wish. Yet he didn't step out, rather he stayed in the cave. I think God was showing him two things. First, he showed Elijah that he really didn't want to die. He still had hope, he still had something else saying inside him "This isn't over yet, now is not the time to quit". Otherwise, I think he would have run out and been blown to smithereens. Second, I think God was showing off. If God wanted Elijah dead, He could have killed him three times over. God wanted Elijah alive. And so the non-lethal still small voice called out Elijah onto the mountain. "Why are you here?" Let me ask you again, why aren't you dead? Elijah responds the same, "I have been very zealous for the Lord, God of Hosts, because the sons of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, have thrown down Your altars, and have slain Your prophets with the sword. And I, I alone, am left. And they seek to take my life away." That's why I'm here, yo! My people are messed up, they don't know you God! They've turned away, but I've been fighting for you, but now they are coming after me. But guess what, I ain't dead. My God is here, He's here in power! Elijah takes his stand with the Lord and his purpose for him. Then God gives him the lay down of what's next. Specifics, this will happen, and this too, and this guy Elisha you're about to meet will be with you, and eventually take your spot, and guess what, you're not alone. I've reserved 7,000 people who haven't served Baal, but instead they honor me. Hear it Elijah, this is why you're here. I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to restore my people, and you're with Me in it. (And for bonus, Elijah never died, he was taken up to heaven in chariot of fire, by a whirlwind. Sorry, no earthquake.)

I felt that God was asking me the same question: "Why are you here?" Why had I gone? Why was sitting in this park in LA? Why had I cared about Jorge? Jesus, you have loved me, more than anything. You call your disciples to follow you, leave it all behind, love those around us in the same manner that you've loved us. You love the poor, you love the ones that no one else does, you crossed a lake to heal one man no one could touch. Jesus, you loved me even in the midst of my loneliness and defeat. I'm here to love in return. He who loves God must love in return. I was so liberated from guilt and the feeling of failure. It was like God was saying, I know Jorge, I have him, don't worry, but don't give up. You know why you're here, so get back out and fight! I know God will heal Jorge, I don't plan on giving up for praying for him (it would be sweet if you would pray for him too). I'd love to return to San Antonio, even if just for him. Even if I never see him again, I know He's working on him. It ain't over, but its so good to be on the winning team. As for me, I don't know the path and specifics God has, but I know why I'm here. And that's good enough. Amen and Press on for Joy!

Encounters 5 and 6 (final encounter)

I saw Jorge a number of times during the trek. Mostly, he would be in the normal spot outside every few days. I pretty much relegated myself to praying for him and for his mom to get him off the gasoline. Every time I saw him and made eye contact, I just said under my breath, Jesu te ama (Jesus loves you). It felt good to know something about him and the situation. At least now I had something specific to pray for instead of feeling inactively powerless. I also asked you all to pray for him without much explanation. (which many thanks for!) I sent the email out on Monday during our last sabbath. The next time I saw Jorge...

5th Encounter.

was returning from San Martin on Tuesday. We crossed the main thoroughfare populated by taxis and crowded buses and made our way up the hill towards the world vision building. Much to my surprise, Jorge was in the road. Except he wasn't just in the road, he was running around like usual, except differently. He wasn't quite as random, his movements were more coordinated. He ran up to a man in an almost pleading manner, clutching his arm. The man disentangled himself and shoved him away and tossed in a rock for good measure. I looked for the bottle . . . empty. His eyes seemed back in check. He was off the gas.

HECK YES! Praise God, there's prayer at work! I didn't know how it happened, I didn't really care, he was without in such a good way. At this point he ran off the road toward a porch occupied by the family of the house and promptly took a seat next to the papa. They were a bit thrown off but quickly regained the assertiveness to defend their porch from uninvited strangers. Amidst the shooing and kicking, I gave him a stern look of "don't go back. You can get better, but don't go back to the gas". I don't know why I gave a stern look when I was so happy. I should have hugged him, but emotions are weird, and the resulting actions even weirder.

I was pretty excited to say the least. I figured this had to be the start of his turn around. No one was giving him gas, we had all been praying about it, this was the outcome. If only I had a chance to talk to him now that he might understand.

6th Encounter (Final)

It was our last day at the world vision office. Somehow, I got elected to lead devotionals that morning as we finished the book of Amos. We broke into small groups to work on the passage and then we all came back to share what we learned and how to apply it. I was upfront in the cramped room asking questions, fielding responses, and horridly mispronouncing the spanish word for justice (as I was told afterwards). In the midst of this time, I heard a familiar sound. The same deadened moaning/cry. I couldn't really look out the door to my right, so I had to wait and see what was going on with Jorge.

The session finished and our team shuffled outside, tired, but ready to do the last day. As I walked out the door, I caught sight of him. My heart sank as all the hopes of the last encounter were dashed by a refilled 20oz bottle of dark liquid. The grease smudge of a mustache had returned as he squat in the same old fashion. What happened? Why? He was better and rid of the gas just two days ago, and I had hoped for good. I listlessly got my stuff together and waited out on the deck to go to San Martin. I just stared at him. He stared back. He, or something in him laughed. It just sounded plain evil. All I heard in that laugh was "You can't beat me. You thought you could come in here and change this. But you didn't. And its too late to do anything now. This is just how life is, nothing is going to change it. Sad but true."

One of the guys came up and we talked a bit about Jorge.
"Do you want to go take the gas away from him?" he asked.
"I've been thinking about it" It was a tempting idea. At least from playing out the scenario in my mind of us running down and snatching the bottle seemed like it would be satisfying. But he would find another or throw such a fit as to be unmanageable. He would be deprived for a few moments, but then we'd be gone forever.
"I don't think we should, I'm not sure it would do much good. Aside from the fact that we'd be assaulting a 14 year old kid."
"True"

We walked to San Martin. It was the last time I saw him. On the walk, all I could think about was his eyes and that laugh. "Why God? How could you let this happen? Just when I thought there was hope. Why did I have to see him today, I could have gone home with the happy thought that maybe he's better. Don't you care about him? Was this my problem because I didn't do something instead of just praying? Was my pride getting the way? Was I trying to do this all on my own? Are you trying to show me the reality of life here? What's going on? Why Why Why?"

Encounters 4 and a bit of conversation

4th Encounter:

It was evening. We had a new security guard that night that had showed up right after dinner. He was a jovial looking soul and extremely friendly. All of the guards were extremely nice, even when we kept waking them in the middle of the night to gain entrance to the bathrooms when the latest intestinal bug awoke. I started talking to him and Juana (the woman who cooked for us, another amazing woman.

I'm going to try to replicate the conversation we had. I don't totally remember it, so I'll take some freedom. I'll also try to do it justice by conveying the meaning it held from the Spanish. As such, it may sound like two five year olds talking, but that's about the level I could communicate.

"Howdy, what's your name?"

"Mario, very nice to meet you. And yours?" (Honestly, I can't remember his name to save my life, so if you know, let me know)

"Cameron, not shrimp, but Cameron" (The word camaron is the word in spanish for shrimp, which sounds very similar to Cameron spoken in the spanish fashion).

He laughed. "Nice to meet you too. Are you a believer?"

"Yeah! you?"

"Oh yes, How long has it been for you?"

"We'll, I've known God most my life, but I haven't really followed him with everything till about 4 years ago. What about you?"

"My whole life. I've always loved church. I love singing and just being in the Spirit. Oh, there's nothing better" he said with a smile and glance upwards.

"Yeah, that is great. What kind of church do you go to?"

"Pentecostal"

"Cool, so do you live near here?"

"No, I live over by the coast, near the point" (La Punta (the point) is nice coastal district in Lima named for the point of land terminating in a long seawall.)
At this point, Juana began to take notice and join into the conversation. The guard motioned to her and asked "Did you like dinner?"

"Of course" I responded. It's beyond politeness to like the food in Peru. I loved the stuff and the fact that there was always plenty of it and Juana was cooking while I wasn't...heaven. "Juana's a great cook; I wish I could bring her back to the states with me"

Juana smiled "I don't think they would take me there."

"No, if you opened a restaurant, once word got out, you'd be flooded. I'd go there. You'll already cooking for our team of more than thirty, so a restaurant would be cake for you."

She smiled, but shook it off. I really can't remember what she said at this point. She is such servant and humble soul. At this point the crazy guy made his presence known. He let out a dull groan as he squat in the yellow light of the street lamp. He looked this way and that. Being his old self.

"What's the deal with that guy, what do you know about him?" I queried the guard.

"Sad sad sad" He said as his spirits dropped a touch. "He's only fourteen."

"Catorce!? (Fourteen!?) that's it?"

"Yeah"

I have never been a good judge of age. I once thought a woman sitting next to me on a plane was in her mid thirties, but she later told me she was fifty (and that's another story entirely). Even so, I would have put the crazy guy at least at "guy" age. But fourteen made sense once I saw it. The thinness in his legs. The piquant eyes. The terefyingness that had surrounded him I now saw as the iron bubble put out by teenage angst. And I think anyone acting like him will be given more credit in terms of age and dangerous capability than one might otherwise.
The guard continued "The town had tried to offer to get him sent away to a facility to help him out. His mother wouldn't allow it. It was her little boy.";

"So what is wrong with him?"

"Gasoline. Ever since he was a little boy," he put his hand a couple feet off the ground to indicate height "he's been on gasoline. He's grown up with it and its really messed with his head" and he moved his hand as the child grew.

It finally made sense. That was what was in the his bottle he held so tight. The dark fluid and the equally dark spot beneath the nose. He always held it up to his nose, but never drank it, at least that I saw. He was always high from sniffing gasoline.

"Why doesn't his mom take it away from him?" I asked trying to figure out why this had continued for so long.

"She doesn't realize that he's not a little kid anymore." He repeated the growing hand motions. "Whenever she takes away the gas, he goes nuts and she can't stand to see her boy like that"

"What about the gas station at the end of the road, has anyone from the community tried talking to them to not sell him anything?"

"No, she's talked to them and asked them to still give it to him" It seemed like she had everything covered. There was no practical way to shut off the supply to the kid without the change of his mom. Maybe that didn't even matter.

"And I've seen him without the gas." The guard volunteered. "He's much more in himself. A lot calmer and within reason, he's not perfect by any means, but at least he's sober."

I felt like I had a bit of a window into the crazy guy's life. There was a reason he was this way. A perfectly preventable reason. I really wanted a chance to talk to him mom, I wanted her to see her son as he really was. I wanted him off the gasoline so he could at least be open to accepting the good news that would set him free, break his bondage and bring his healing. Only Jesus can do that, that's what He came to do in the first place (Luke 4 reference to Isaiah 61). I had resolved to pray for him and now I felt like I knew what to pray for. First, get off the gas, second, help his mom to truly see him for who he is. And I wanted one more thing to pray for...

"What's his name?"

"I think its Jorge (pronounced hor-hay)"

At this point we wrapped up the conversation and I headed off to bed and to pray. I looked at Jorge and said under my breath, "Jesus te ama (Jesus loves you)."

C-mail, its over...

Howdy all,

1. The Lima Trek is over, sad times. Although other treks are still out and you can read about the treks around the world at: http://www.urbana.org/feat.trek.home.cfm. I'm actually back in Boise right now since I got sick, again, and decided the wisest choice was to wimp out, return home, and get better. I'm on the mend, but I don't know how long it will take to get completely better, but its nice to be back regardless. I'll be heading back to SLO and do the California tour thing in hopefully two weeks. If you're in CA and want to be visited, let me know, place, time and such and I'll see what I can do.

2. The trip ended well and tough at the same time, see the story below (being completed as we speak on the blog: http://pressonforjoy.blogspot.com/) if you're up to a grand amount reading. We got the playground done, as well as the community center, and the community of San Martin gave us a great going away time and cooked for us (which was awesome of them, except we had already had a large lunch two hours prior, so some of us had a difficult time cramming down the last quarter pound of rice. I think I have the stomach of a hobbit, so I was only too glad to get a second lunch.) They also regaled us with a number of individual gifts from families, pins, dances, and knit beanies (except with the ear flaps (this style of hat is a Peruvian invention called a chullo (pronounced chew-yo or chew-jo depending on what side of town/South America you grew up in (don't you love parenthesis?)))). We finished the trip with a few days in Lima proper doing some tours of the town and seeing some more cultural things. Highlight of my life: CATACOMBS! Overall, the trip was amazing, good was done, people were loved with Jesus' love, bridges were built between our team and the Peruvian team as well as between some of the long term missionaries and San Martin, and the road is paved for continued partnership between future global urban treks and the Peruvian student ministry.

3. Leaving is tough, but only once you've actually left. First, goodbye to San Martin, then the kids from the area at our World Vision living site, then the Peruvian students, then the Peruvian staff, then the whole American part of the team. I sat in the airport in LAX on Friday realizing that it was the first time I was alone for over a month. Before this trip, I had expected to breakdown into tears looking into the tragic face of poverty or something empathetic of that sort. But no, it was just when I was completely by myself and isolated that I couldn't stop sobbing, which I gotta say, is really embarrassing, so major hats off to all those girls I've known that ever started crying in public, way to be. I think that it just goes to show that my team was/is awesome, all of it, Peru and united states.

4. The next email will be the last. That one will be the lessons learned, and the follow up on the promise of how you can get involved and help poverty across the globe. (And yes, I think I kinda have an idea for you, yes you, and no, I won't ask for money).

5. Again, thank you for all your prayers. My Spanish was more than enough to get by and communicate even to the point of a few deep conversations. I have to give all credit to God and your prayers on my behalf. If you were praying for Jorge (pronounced hor-hay, not sure about spelling) check the story below. Also, thanks so much for writing back, its always awesome to get email and I hope to respond at some point this week.

Alright, that's it for now,
Press on for Joy!
Cameron


Ok, the following is going to be tough to write, so bear with me, I'm going to try to go through the following experiences sequentially. Unfortunately, I think that it will make this super long, so yeah, here it goes. Read in sections if you so wish, or just skip to the end for the lesson, but you'll miss a lot.

1st Encounter.

It must have the been after out first night of sleep in San Antonio at the World Vision building. After being rudely awakened at 6:00 am by the seismic horn of the water truck making its rounds, it was difficult to get back to sleep. Breakfast was at 8 so I stayed in the sleeping bag till about 8. I dressed, got up, and moseyed outside. The building had a concrete walkway with a wall at about perfect sitting height running about half the length of the building. Our team had just founded this spot as the hang out zone before breakfast. I don't really know how to introduce what I next noticed as I stepped outside, so here goes. CRAZY GUY. There was a crazy guy out in the dirt street, right outside our concrete deck. Every so often he would yell out in a loud but dulled voice. I couldn't understand it, and even if my spanish was perfect, I don't know how much I would have understood. He squat down on thin legs revealed by tattered shorts and terminating in stained flip flops. He covered himself in a greasy black jacket. His hair was curly and looked liked it had been heavily gelled, but it had probably never been washed. He held a plastic bottle with the bottom quarter full of a black liquid. He never drank it, but held it close. He would move from squatting to jumping to convulsing to squatting again. I figured the people on the deck knew something I didn't, so I waited for something else to happen.

Now, I'm just a clueless about how to handle "crazy" people as the next person, and so often that leads to inaction. And awkwardness. And that what was our teams response, we chatted, thrown off guard by every incoherent scream, and kept going. I was kinda disappointed. We were here to help the poor, right? Just because someone is crazy doesn't mean they are outside God's love, right? Isn't God big enough to handle this guy even when we're not? I kept looking over at him and was so broken for him. I guess was frustrated me most was that we had no way to act. Nor even a way to try. So, I just started praying. Now, what I should have done would have been to say to everyone out there, "Hey, this is awkward, there's a crazy guy right here, what should we do?". But I didn't, and I'm sorry I didn't. Big lesson learned: step up if something is awkward and needs to be dealt with, no matter the situation or group, don't wait for someone else to do it.

After breakfast, the team left to go to their work sites. The construction team I was part of (we soon renamed ourselves the team of destruction) stayed behind to finish building some showers on the deck. I was on the roof of the building and saw the crazy guy in the street and someone from the town grappling with him. The crazy guy wasn't doing to well. It looked like a small bag of candy was the object of contention and the "normal" man wrestled it out of his hand after a half minute. The normal man proceeded to walk away, pick up a rock and chuck it at the crazy guy. It missed, but the crazy guy laughed evilly and squat down. Next time I had a chance to look, he was gone.


2nd Encounter.

It was later that night when I thought about that guy again. It was during worship. I can't remember what made me think of him, one of the songs or something, but I just thought about that guy and how I had failed to do something, anything for him. I kept thinking how we had come to help out the least of these, and this guy definitely was it. After worship, we were given some time of silence. I went outside and sat down a few yards from the building. A few others filtered out as well. I can't remember what all I was thinking, but after about 15 mins, here he came. He sporadically made his way up the street in the yellow lamp light. I ended up locking eyes with him as he jaggedly sauntered over to me. "Que te quieres?" I asked. (I wanted to say "Que tu quieres" which means "what do you want", but I think what I said might mean "what do you want of yourself" , which might have been a better question anyways). He laughed uncomfortably loud, and sounded out some word I didn't know. He stood there looking at me, eyes so acute, yet so dead. He was only two feet away. He loudly spoke another drawn out word. He starred for another second then pulled together the corners of his mouth and spit at me. I was leaning forward a bit and jerked back well after the fact his spittle hit the ground between my feet. I don't think I had ever been spit at before, except for possibly sometime in my dark childhood days, but I'd prefer not to think about that. Needless to say, I was thrown off and a bit frozen. I just kept staring at him, searching his eyes. Why was he like this? Who is this guy? He spit again, again I pulled back, but it wasn't necessary. He laughed dementedly. What can I do? How do I show this guy that Jesus loves him and is his only hope? This must have gone on twice more. I can't remember if I said anything else to him or just tried to give the most compassionate smile I could muster. Finally, the confrontation was broken when one of the Peruvian staff came over.
"Let's go" he kindly asked.
"What's he saying?"
"He's saying bad words, only bad words. So let's go"
"k"
I stood up, at which point the crazy guy made a dash straight past my left. I had completely forgotten that one of the directors of our team was sitting a few feet behind me. She had gotten ready to run while the other staff came up, but the crazy guy was going to try to her reach anyways. I came to realize this once I had turned around and saw the whole thing play out. I called out to the guy to stop, he didn't. He couldn't catch her anyways. At this point the security guard began to chase the guy away.

The girl who was chased was shaken up and rightfully so, but was ok. I was in the same state. I stayed out on the deck a bit longer watching the guard chase and scare the guy away. At some point the guy ran off to a nearby house with a pig pen and the pigs went nuts with their unsettling squeals. I went to bed at this point. I was still pretty shocked and just lay there. I pretty much resolved to always pray for him, everyday I was there, and rest in the fact that God can and will restore him. I know God cares for those on the outside, the outcasts, and I was asking for God to heal, love and restore this one. I didn't know what else to do, and it seemed that any type of action other than distant prayer might endanger the team or myself (which would endanger the team if anything happened and my parents found out). At some point, staring at the ceiling, praying, asking questions, resolving and replaying the encounter over and over to try to deaden the impact, I fell asleep.


That's all I'm going to write here for now. I'll be working to complete the story on the blog, so check there for updates. Sorry to go to be continued, but I figure I'd get this out as soon as I could. Thanks for reading this far. There's a good lesson at the end that I thought was worth it, but that's how it happened in my life, and I think my life is worth it.

Alright, much love to you all,
Press on for Joy!

3rd Encounter

3rd. Encounter

An entire week passed till the next time I saw him. It was night again. I was out on the deck and apparently I got really serious. One of team asked if I was alright, and I responded that I was praying for that guy. It was funny because I had just thought of him a few minutes before he showed up (funny or the Holy Spirit?). In any case, I went in our room to pray for him, but it was tough with so many people around. They were setting up our room for a movie night of all the footage that had been shot on trip and all the pictures. There were snacks and such and was supposed to be a fun time. I wasn't in the mood for that at all. I moved out to the deck and looked and prayed. Why was I so bothered by him? Why do I feel like I'm the only one who is bothered by this guy. Perhaps even one was caring about him, but I just never asked. Thankfully, one of the Peruvian students came up and asked what was bothering me. We started discussing it, and we're eventually called into the room to get started with the festivities. Before it got going, through my heretical spanish and her broken english, we walked through probably my favorite passage in the bible.

Mark 4:35-4:41
This isn't the story, but its the background. Jesus decides to go across the sea of galilee. He falls asleep. I think he doesn't consider the passage all that important. But then storm of the century hits, the disciples flip out and the boats about to float its last. Somebody wakes up Jesus (probably a good idea), He gets up, rebukes the wind and waves, storm stops. I was trying to read out of the spanish bible, but I know my pronounciation was horid, but she seemed to be following by reading. There's something special about going half way around the world, and even though your brother or sister there might speak a different language, they are still your brother and sister, we all got the same dad.

But that story is only background. The real focus is on another crazy guy. Mark 5. Jesus and the disciples get to the other side and get out of the boat. Immediatly, CRAZY GUY. This man had been driven from his town into the hills. He was demon possessed and lived, day and night screaming and hitting himself with rocks. No one could handle him. Except Jesus. The guy outside and this guy were similar. No one deals with him, all he does is scream and run around always carrying that plastic bottle with the dark contents. Yet, I know Jesus can. The demon possesed man ran to Jesus and begged for help. The demon inside him also asked for mercy from Him. For some reason, Jesus had mercy on demons. I don't know why, or what this shows, but he still made them leave the man and go into a herd of pigs. They obeyed him and the pigs were destroyed. The man was healed, he was given clothes and was restored. How cool is that! But there's even more. The people who owned the pigs flip out too and ask Jesus to leave. And He does. The former demon possessed guy asks to go with Him, but Jesus asks him to share what God did for him. Now, look at this guy. No one could handle him. He was essentially a complete lost cause. No one cared except to get him away from them. He was alone, and beyond that, continually tortured by the demons inside him. I can't think of a more pittyable soul. But here is how great Jesus love was.

First, He gets in a boat. Remember the background. They cross in possilby the worse time when this storm came up. Jesus knew this would happen, but so be it, he came for this guy. He shows up, he meets the guy no one else could. He heals him and heals him completly. Heck, he's even marginally mericful to the demons. Then, when people ask him to leave, he does. Back in the boat. An entire journey for one guy. Jesus might have been there an hour, tops. Just for this one guy. No one thought he was worth anything, yet Jesus came across a lake and storm, and just as quickly left. No one could love him, yet He did, and what a way. How great the father's love for us, how vast beyond all measure.

That's what I was trying to get across, but I don't think it came out quite like that in spanish. But the point was made. This guy outside, you, me, Jesus has come for us all. He has come just for you. Run to Him! Accept His complete healing! His love is great and powerful, and so far reaching. For the guy outside, I knew Jesus had come for him. Jesus was the only answer. I didn't think he was possessed, but God still has power over all things. I think Jesus wants us to follow him and seek out the lost, the ones that have no hope and are utterly alone. Although, to be completly honest, I think I needed to know that if I was in the crazy guys situation, someone would care enough to cross a lake and heal me, or at least help me.

I was probably making about as little sense as I am now, but she offered to pray and we did. Then the movie started. A few mins after, his raised voice moved somewhere else.

C-mail, the one where they all get sick

Howdy all,

Well, its been another week gone by and fast one at that. Time moves so slow here which makes the passing of the days just all the faster.
Here are the standard briefs:

1. Our team has been pretty sick lately. It amazing how quickly you can meet a group of perfect strangers and a few days later be sharing intimate secrets about the condition of your intestinal track like talking about the weather. I'll spare you the details but, I got sick earlier this week and I feel a lot better now. Praise God! The rest of the American section of our team seems to be moving from the intestinal to the standard cold, so pray for health, healing, and open hearts to learn and pray when we're out of commission.

2. Pray for a kid named Gorgé. I'll explain details later, but pray for freedom from addition and for his mom to see him as he is now, and for healing for him as well. Pray hard.

3. Our team has been pretty well this last week, we finished a playground in the community of San Martin and had a big festival to celebrate it on sunday where a few doctors, dentists and a lawyer all came to aid the folks in the community for free. There were a lot of people from some local churches and the corresponding skits and ugh, kids music. It was really great though and the community is super stoked to be helped in this way. It was a total effort on their part too and it was great to see everyone come together for the project and each other. Our team will be leaving this part of Lima on thursday and they are sad that we are going as well.

4. Thanks for all of the respond emails and prayers, I really do appreciate it and am so grateful for the prayer support. The spanish is getting better from day to day although at times it can be a bit frustrating when trying to discuss deeper issues than excuse me, need the bathroom. (I can say more than that, honest).

5. This might be the last email from Lima. I think we fly out next sunday late in the evening, so there might be one more, but we'll see. But the time has gone/is going by so fast. Such is life.

Alright, cool stuff is below about getting sick (not the gory details, but lessons and such.) and again you're all great.

Press on for Joy!
Cameron

I got this question in an email today:
-What motivated you choose this mission trip? What is the meaning of this trip?-

In my last email, I think I said something to the affect that I really kinda liked what life was like the San Martin community. Life was kind of easy, they have some chickens, ducks, pigs, etc. The community is a thirty minute walk through lettuce and basil fields from the main paved road. The houses, if you could call them that are very small, dirt floored, many times made out of palates, poles, and thatching. They don't have electricity so the whole place goes dark about an hour after sunset. Water only comes weekly from a truck and is stored in barrels. It seemed like a very simple type of community and somewhat rustically romantic.

But, something wasn't quite right. I thought I had come on this trip to serve the poor, to follow Jesus in his call to serve the least of these. Perhaps I'm just a simplist at heart, but the poverty of these people just wasn't hitting me in the way that I thought it would. So I prayed that God would show me what He sees when he looks at this place, what is it that His heart breaks for, if anything when He looks at Lima and San Martin.

I saw a few things in the next few days, but I'm going to focus on getting sick. When working on the play ground, we needed to excavate a number of trenches. The place the playground was going was next to an open field. The field is used for one purpose, trash. One of the communities main sources of income is sorting trash. Different types of plastic, different types of paper, some to be recycled, the rest burned or just tossed out. And out in the field it goes. Piles of it in some places, and just a few plastic bags in others. And always something burning. One day when it was particularly clear, we could look at the fields from our world vision housing site and see at least a dozen plumes of smoke rising out of different fields all around the valley, obscuring the sun to a dim amber, it seriously looked liked something out of Lord of the Rings.

Oh and one other thing, the wind blows from the field into San Martin. The community continually reeks from the smell of the burning. That pretty much is why I got sick. Probably from some infected dust, or smoke or who knows what. Witches Brew is what one of the peruvian staff said. And so I didn't go out for two days and slept and thought. But I think God showed that the people living there, have to live there. They don't have enough money to move, and that is only
way they have to feed their family. And if they get sick, good luck paying for a doctor or getting pills and keeping a job and making up for the lost income.

I'm out of time, but yeah, thats it. It isn't right, but thats the deal. More to come later, sorry, you're all great.

Press on for Joy!
Cameron

PS. One of the women in the community was pregnant and was asking for names and in honor of my two roomates, I suggested Dan and Brenton, but I think she chose Cameron (nice choice, except it sounds like the word shrimp in spanish).

PPS. Mom I'm completely better and God's with me, so no worries, he'll keep me safe, even in the midst of all the dust and trash.

C-mail returns

Howdy all,

so on spanish keyboards they have the question mark button switched with the - mark, and the apostrophe key has three symbols on it so I cant really use apostrophes, so Im not illiterate, just hampered. just some trivia.

1. So, yeah, Im in Lima! Its huge. And its covered with dust. We had our first clear day yesterday and it reminded me of an average day in LA.

2. Keep praying for spanish. Ive learned that prayer is really important to understand and speak another language. So keep praying. Also pray for health for the team and continued building of relationships between the american half and peruvian half of the team. Also pray for the community of San Martin. They kids are pretty beat down, the town really doesnt have much except trash and dust. The house are made out of palates and corrugated iron and dirt floors. We are building a kind a playground for the kids and hopefully a bridge so that the water truck can get into the community. Pray for time to
get it all done and relationships with the people too. (Im working construction, but most of the team is adopted into families and they just help them with whatever (some even got the awesome opportunity to clean out pig pens and kill-butcher chickens))

3. Peru is pretty sweet. They feed us a lot of food. Its amazing food. A missionary here told us that the peruvians believe they invented food. Im cool with that.

4. Peru is poor, and rich. We stayed in the main part of the city for a few days and it felt like a really big american city, shopping centers and all. Weve since moved out into one of the slums communities and its a big change. Everything is covered in dust. Were working in one community that is extremely poor and it felt like walking in a sepia picture.

5. Were staying at a world vision center in the middle of the one of the slum areas called San Antonio, they have electricity and plumbing and a playground for the kids (which weve affectionately named the paparazzi).

6. I understand the whole smile and nod thing when people come back from missions, because a heck of a lot happens. But, I will be writing all of the stories down when I get back so theyll be up on the blog.

Well, thats the bare bones news, the thoughts and lessons learned are below, but thanks for the emails, Ive had a bit of a chance to peruse them and Ill give them the attention they deserve when I return.

Press on for Joy!
Cameron

I came on this trip with a hope of learning how to live. What does it actually mean to be alive? We arrived at a chinese church for orientation late on a saturday night I think. Our hosts had set out mattresses with small bags that had a couple pieces of candy and a verse. The verse I got was Ecclesiastes 9:10: Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might; for there is no work, nor plan, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave where you go. Aside from the last half being a bit ominous, it has really proved to be a good verse. Before I left, a friend told me something very important, just do good. Wherever you are, whoever your with, do good. When we were at the chinese church, I saw something I wasn't really used to. First, translation. The pastor spoke in spanish and then someone would translate into chinese. I thought it was pretty cool that two separate language groups could work under the same roof. I could get the very rough gist of what the pastor was saying, so I was pretty happy with that. After the sermon, he stepped away from the pulpit, quoted a few verses about respecting leadership and then I couldn't understand what was happening. I picked something up about bathrooms and the pastor quiting and not taking any questions until after the next service. It took a while for him to explain it and doubly long to have it translated. A man from the congregation yelled out and jumped on stage and started talking about the issue even though the pastor didn't really want it. It felt really weird to see a church having a debate-issue right there in front of everyone on a sunday morning, and it must have been pretty serious if the pastor was about to leave. Our peruvian leader eventually motioned that we could leave, but being in the front row, i felt pretty sad for the pastor and seeing his angst in the situation. This wasn't my church, I had no clue, nor do I now, of what was going on, but I prayed during the ordeal. before we left, I made eye contact with the pastor, gave a quick I'll pray for you motion and left. He smiled, and gave a big thumbs up. I don't know happened afterwards, but it was just a small chance to give something. I saw him one time afterwards and recieved a super warm smile. I don't know whats best, but just do good, strangers, friends, home or away, in the name of Christ.

Alright, Im out of time, but Ill have more stories and lessons later, but keep praying, Ill try to give a better feel for peru next time and some of the people who live here, but pray for education of the parents that they learn how to not abuse their kids.

ok, I miss you all, but honestly its pretty amazing here, despite all the frustrations of culture, language, dust, and lack, of personal space.

Press on for Joy!
Cameron.

PS. Mom, I really am ok:)
PPS. Lani that was the right church, thanks for the extra ride though!