Email: Emily Fletcher

Dear Friends,

It’s hard to believe that a whole year has passed since I left last August to live in Huánuco, Peru. Somehow, I found myself on a plane last week flying home, and I have no idea how a whole year went by so quickly. It’s with mixed feelings that I write my final update, content to be reunited with family and friends, while aching for the country I already miss as it suffers in the aftermath of such a devastating earthquake. Please join me in keeping the people of Peru in our prayers as so many cope with loss on many levels.

The experience I’ve had this last year has been many things to me. I’ve been among people who have shared their lives as they’ve struggled though a whole spectrum of human experiences. I’ve seen acute parental concern, the loss of faith in fellow man, the bitter tears of a wounded child, and volumes of documentation representing the human cost of a terrible conflict. And I’ve seen a broken human spirit begin to heal, the courage of forgiveness, and shining examples of self-sacrifice that give me hope that the world can change.

I think that as I look back on everything that has happened this year, what strikes me most is how often I’ve seen the presence of Jesus in some of the places I absolutely did not expect to encounter him. Finding Jesus present with sexually abused teenagers, with families whose loved ones have “disappeared,” and in the songs of prisoners has shown me that to the suffering and afraid, Jesus is a present light and a comfort.

I saw a powerful example of this when I watched as 12 formerly shy and inhibited teenage girls who were spending a week at Paz y Esperanza’s sexual abuse rehabilitation camp invented the parts of an interpretive dance to a beautiful song by Marcos Witt called Tú Estás Aqui. The lyrics to this song are so emblematic of the message:

Aunque mis ojos no te pueden ver,
Te puedo sentir
Sé que estás aqui.
Aunque mis manos no pueden tocar,
Tu estás Señor
Sé que estás aqui.

Although my eyes can't see you,
I can feel you.
Although my hands can't touch you,
You are here Lord,
I know that you're here.

It was clear to me that these girls, who had been through so much suffering in their short lives, knew that Jesus was there with them in the midst of their pain. Where one might expect to encounter a sentiment of abandonment, the innocent faith of these girls showed me that God could be found even, and perhaps especially, in very dark places.

I look forward to sharing with you in the upcoming weeks and months. I look forward to sharing stories of the difficulty and pain that I encountered, and of beauty and hope. I look forward to sharing stories of unforgettable children and courageous individuals from this broken and beautiful place, which I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

My intention this year was to give, but I know that throughout the entire experience I have received so much more than I was ever able to offer. Thank you for what you have given, for all the forms of support you all have offered me throughout this experience, whether it was moral, financial, or spiritual. I am so grateful for the many, many ways you contributed to a year that has taught me much and has without a doubt changed my life.

Sincerely,

Emily