Guatemalan Journey: I'm STILL Not Comfortable

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about how uncomfortable I am in many of the situations I find myself, as a Christ-follower and a missionary. I needed to process some recent events and I had hoped writing would make facing these difficult situations easier.

I was wrong. . .

Dick and Ken helping me buy food at the market.

Our market lady weighing out bag after
bag of food for us.

Last Saturday I set off with Dick, Marcos and Ken Exner, who was visiting from Omaha, to take our regular food donations to the widows we serve in Tecpan. I always look forward to this trip because it encourages me to see these friends. This trip proved very different.

When we arrived in the village, it was silent. Usually there are many people working in their yards and children come running as soon as we pull in. Today we were greeted by no movement or sound. It was eerie. Dick commented that there was probably a funeral. My heart sank, fearing it was the grandmother in one of the homes we would be visiting.

We went to that home first, and a few of the children came running out. They were excited to see us, and it blessed my heart as they called out, "Patty." They seemed a bit less enthusiastic than usual, but were happy to see us. As we walked toward the home, Samuel's mother came out, and collapsed sobbing into my arms. I had no idea what had actually happened, and could do nothing but stand there and hold her and wait for her to calm. I fought back my own tears. While I had no idea what was wrong, I did know my friend was profoundly hurting, and there was nothing I could do but pray. So I did.

I AM NOT COMFORTABLE praying aloud in Spanish. I am self-conscious enough doing so in English. But, I knew I had to. So I surrendered my pride and comfort and trusted the Holy Spirit to give me words. In truth, I don't know what I prayed, the feelings overwhelming me were so strong.

As she calmed a bit, she told me her nephew had died the night before. Since many of the people in this village are related, most had gone into Chimaltenango to comfort the nephew's family. She had remained home with grandma (who was looking good, considering) and the children.

What made this even sadder was that the nephew was murdered. He was shot and killed near the market in Chimal, along with another man. A woman was injured and in the hospital. This was one of the many senseless murders that occur in this city. Often the motive is never discovered. Even more rare is it for the murderers to be caught. No one talks, even if they have information about the attack, for fear of retribution. The gangs are strong in this town when Dick lives.

This violence is nothing new. but to be confronted with family affected by this most recent incident was painful. I hurt for my friend. Her nephew was only 32 years old, and left behind a widow and three children. She, herself a widow, knew only too well what the future held for this family. I hurt for her and for them, without even knowing them, knowing how hard their lives would become.

Keily and her four year old sister

As we were talking a young girl entered. She was the daughter of the man who had been killed. Her aunt told her I was a missionary, and she immediately fell into my arms, sobbing. A thirteen year old girl, I had never seen before in my life, was looking to me, an aged foreigner, for comfort and support.

Over the years I have comforted many families in my role as a Care Ministry Director and missionary. But this was different. I had known these families. If they were not friends, they were at least acquaintances. Many were North Americans. I had some idea how to respond. This was way out of my comfort zone. Once again, I stood and held Keily, and prayed. I could no longer hold back my own tears as her sobs wracked her body. She clung to me as if her life depended on it.

Then it became clear to me. I AM NOT COMFORTABLE being called to be Jesus with skin on in these situations. I have not learned how to do confront pain without feeling it myself. I AM NOT COMFORTABLE when these people with whom I live look to me to speak the words of comfort Jesus would in these situations, just because of a role they have given me. I AM NOT COMFORTABLE when they think I have wisdom beyond what they would have. I AM NOT COMFORTABLE that the only thing I can do is invite Jesus into the situation. Ask Jesus to give me the words to speak and the actions to take to bring peace into the midst of suffering.

As I reflect on this, I better understand the Jesus whom I follow. His life was not comfortable. He was almost always right in the center of suffering, whether it be spiritual, emotional, or physical. He never shied away from those hurting and in need to preserve His own comfort.

If I would follow Him, neither can I. This is part of what it means to take up my cross daily. To feel with the sick, disabled, wounded and broken hearted. To forsake my comfort to bring His comfort into the hardest situations. And it seems the more I respond in obedience to do this, the more He asks me to do it.

I often fail at this, giving myself excuses which seem all too valid to avoid NOT BEING COMFORTABLE, but believe it is my call. I believe it is the call of every Christ-follower.