May 12, 2008

Dear Friends,

Greetings from Guatemala! I’ve had some experiences in Guatemala lately that have made me reflect on the age-old wisdom that life in all its abundance includes both joy and sorrow. Psalm 23 and Acts 2:42-47 have been my inspiration.

We all know Psalm 23. “Though I walk through the valley of the darkness, I fear no evil, for you are with me.” It strikes me that the psalmist does not assume that God will not allow us to experience times of darkness, but rather is confident that God will be with us during those times, and will provide us so much that our cup will overflow. In Guatemala, people are walking through that valley of darkness in many ways.

Three days a week, a young university student works for me, taking care of my one-and-a-half-year-old son. I pay her 11 dollars a day, and I feel sad that some of us can pay that without completely breaking our bank, while others earn less than what’s required to live a very basic life. I’m happy that I can provide her with good employment—she’s earning as much working for me three days a week as she did in a factory working six days a week. But each week when I pay her 33 dollars for the 30 hours she’s worked, it still hurts my heart because I know it’s not enough.

Immigration is often a source of sorrow for Guatemalans. Families miss husbands and sons and daughters who have had to go the United States because they’re not able to make ends meet in Guatemala, and broken families result. One couple we know well had a son in his early 20s go to the United States last year, and they were sad to see him depart. Last month, he suffered a brain aneurism and passed away in the United States. His family is heartbroken.

Knowing these stories makes it hard for me when church groups from the United States come to be immersed in Guatemalan culture, and make friends with Guatemalans and go home saying “They have so little, but they’re so happy, so many smiles on their faces!” I’ve always wanted to say, “No they’re not! Listen to these stories!”  But as I reflect on this, I realize that often we do see joy in many Guatemalan faces, not because there is no sorrow, but because joy can co-exist with sorrow.

We see this joy rubbing up against sorrow in the early Christian community described in Acts. Times were tough—Christians were being persecuted and many lacked basic resources. But the description we have of that community is one of life in all its fullness despite those difficulties. I think Guatemalans can relate to the way that the early Christian community supported each other through sorrow. Many Guatemalans celebrate the gifts of their culture—warm hospitality, joke-telling, laughter, dance, liveliness, and strong family—that give them strength through sorrow.

The young woman who takes care of my son has trouble making ends meet, but she is able to move forward because she lives with her mother and siblings, who all study and work to support each other in a strong way, and she talks about how her sense of community with her family brings her great joy.

Sarah Robinson (far right) was a Young Adult Volunteer in 2007. Most of the women whose lived she shared during her time in Guatemala have husbands and children in the United States.

Another example: A volunteer last year experienced joy in the building of community by accompanying her Guatemalan family through a time of sorrow. Amanda originally lived with a young Guatemalan couple, but as sometimes happens it became clear that the young host mother, Julia, wasn’t happy having Amanda in the house, so we moved Amanda to Julia’s mother’s house. The uncomfortable relationship between Julia and Amanda was never resolved. Julia had a baby, and the baby got very sick and had to be in the hospital in Guatemala City, three hours from home. As so often happens in Guatemala, the extended family went in turns to the city to sit with the baby. One night, Amanda ended up sitting the whole night in the hospital with the baby, and met up in the morning with Julia and her husband. Nothing particular was said or done, but after that the coldness seemed to melt away—the baby got better—and relationships were set right between Amanda and Julia, and she felt that it was because she’d taken part in living with Julia through a time of sorrow.

My prayer is that we all find community by knowing others’ sorrows and being able to share and become more aware of our own sorrows.  How might we build those relationships? Getting involved in church or community outreach projects with the marginalized, immigrants, mentally ill, elderly, or others?  Traveling with others on a mission trip? Reaching out to someone or a group in pain and simply accompany them through that? I invite us all to take some time to sit with our sorrows, celebrate our joys and our spaces of community, and pray about where we might be called to accompany others in new ways.

Marcia

The 2008 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 258