Criminal

"Un criminal-- criminal-- de las calles de Egipto... criminal..."
I shivered, not knowing if it was the cold or the lyrics... either way, I zipped my jacket up some more. A criminal-- a criminal-- off the streets of Egipto... criminal. That line kept repeating itself over and over and over in my mind.


NOTE: This post is sort of a continuation of several posts. To get the most out of it, I recommend you go back and read "A Spiritual Diagnosis," "Half-Human, Half-Monster," and "Wow, Wow, Wow :)."


I sat there trying to wrap my mind around the situation. Yes, I was really sitting in Egipto-- one of the most notoriously dangerous neighborhoods in Bogota-- after dark. Yes, I really had walked up the hill, greeted gang members and entered the Buena Semilla. I really was watching three gang members perform a song they had composed: "Criminal." Yes, Elias really was preaching the Gospel to gang members and their families in Egipto. What ever happened to normalcy? I whispered this to my mom and we started laughing... I tried imagining explaining this to friends... Maybe during the "what I did this summer" talks once I was back at school... I couldn't quite imagine it.

So, I'm not even sure how to explain what happened or what we did because I feel like the focus of activity was much more internal than it was external. But oh well, I'll try... and of course, there will be plenty of my processing going on as well :)

True to latin schedule, my parents and I arrived at Las Aguas Transmi station around 5:50pm-- 10 minutes before the program in Egipto was "begining." We figured we'd still be fine, considering it was a five minute taxi ride. However, no taxis were willing to take us to Egipto. Really? I gave an exasperated sigh and suggested we walk. The look my dad gave me was enough to let me know that I should keep my dumb suggestions to myself. Eventually, we caught two different buses and got to Egipto... at 6:30.

I was really worried we had missed most of the program, but my worries were in vain, because they hadn't even started. As we walked up to the Buena Semilla, I saw several men standing outside the door. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol was undisguised. I unwillingly admitted that if I encountered any of these men on the street under any other circumstances, I would be terrified. Anyway, we were warmly welcomed and we entered the Buena Semilla. There, Elias gave us a small tour of how it has changed. The patio had about 70 chairs (I'm REALLY bad at estimating, but that's my guess) set up in front of a big screen.


My mom then introduced me to Andres, one of the six who mugged theGEBC team. He's an artist and painted a mural in the Buena Semilla home. One quote caught my eye: "Porque la buena semilla es la palabra de Dios (Because the good seed is God's word)."I smiled. We talked for a while and he told me about his one-year old daughter.

Later, I was introduced to Emiliano (AKA Niga) who is the gang leader, seeking peace. He had a scar running down the left side of his face and he was missing several teeth. Though his appearance was quite intimidating, I felt extremely comfortable and welcomed in his presence. My mom later shared with me that he had been abandoned in Egipto's park as a small child. One of the gang's decided to care for him and would bring him food. For much of his early childhood, he grew up under makeshift structures in the park, depending on the gang for food. The gang leader during that time was Victor (recently killed in January). Victor became much like a father to Niga and took him under his wing. It wasn't long until Niga fully joined the gang, and recently becoming the new gang member after Victor's death.

Soon, the program began. Elias shared the Gospel... he assured these men and women that God was searching for them... he was pursuing their hearts, with arms wide open, ready to welcome them into his family. He promised them change and redemption was possible. I looked around me, my soul consumed by prayer, but my mind trying to gage how many were listening to these words of Truth.

Then, Niga shared that while in prison most recently, he was able to learn a lot about music and he began composing songs. They made a music video (you can watch it here) with the help of a man from Elias' church. He shared about the violence and the criminal activity that they were surrounded by.

Then... then they began rapping. They apologized for growing up on the streets of Egipto. My heart broke. As if they even had a choice. I watched these men and tears blurred my eyes. They were all under 30 and had literally witnessed nightmares. The lyrics spoke of blood running down the streets. I wondered how much of that blood belonged to their loved ones. I asked myself how many deaths they had been part of and how many widows and orphans they had comforted. These questions pained my heart.

This... this was their existence. A miserable life. They admitted that they had seen and experienced things that should never happen--ever-- and yet... they do.

At the end, Andres walked us down to the bottom of the hill. I smiled, comforted by the presence of our "bodyguard." During our conversation he said something heartbreaking... "But you need money... because in this world, without money... you're nothing."

My first reaction was to fight that comment. Money ISN'T everything!! I wanted to tell him... I wanted to make him see. But then, another thought popped into my head. And who are you-- you who have never been hindered by a lack of money-- to tell this to Andres? Its true... I've never been hindered. Sure, I can't afford to go shopping every weekend, or buy the nicest brands, or go on expensive cruises or buy fancy makeup... but those aren't limitations. These men truly have been limited in their life, their choices and their opportunities because of a lack of resources.


I really don't understand hunger. I don't understand cold or sickness. I don't understand poverty or desperateness. I don't understand violence. I don't understand death. And not only do they understand these profoundly and intimately, but its all they've ever known.

Why?

Why have I been blessed so much? Why do I have two, healthy parents who love me? Why do I have the privilege of higher education? Why have I been gifted with bilingualism? Why do I have the capacity to think analytically? Why was I born into a Christian family? Why have I been so sheltered from death? Why can I afford vacations? Why do I have a laptop, camera and an iPod? Why am I literate and own a Bible in various languages and translations? Why can I go to a doctor when I'm sick?

And this list could go on, could it not?

Probably one of the most frightening verses (for me, personally) is in Luke... "To those who have been given much, much will be required." I cannot deny or ignore that I-- and if you're reading this, then you too-- have been given much!

I feel overwhelmed. I feel that I have been given sooo much, and I struggle under the weight of those implications. My talents, my gifts, my blessings MUST be invested in the Kingdom. It cannot be any other way. I don't want to cheapen the significance of Christ's death by simply "living abundantly" and serving and filling any desire of my flesh. Oh, our Savior died for so much more than that!!

May the blessings I have been given be used to bless others. May those in Egipto be blessed through our lives... and through the redemptive work of Christ.

Note: As I learn of more ways you can help the ministry in Egipto, I will certainly let you know! But for now... prayer is vital!

Wow, Wow, Wow :)

I write with much excitement. In fact, my typing is pretty awful... I've been making quite a bit of typo's as I try to write because I'm just simply excited and amazed by the work of God's hand. So please, be gracious and forgive any spelling errors you may find :)

Some of you may remember some posts a couple of weeks ago concerning the team from GEBC and their robbery in Egipto. If not, feel free to go back and read them ("A Spiritual Diagnosis" and "Half-Human, Half-Monster"). Anyway, I write as a follow-up...

God has been doing MUCH in Barrio Egipto since the weeks following the robbery. He has softened the hearts of the gang members and allowed Pastor Elias to see a way into the lives of the gang members in Egipto. They have been brainstorming about various ways they can keep teenagers off the streets and a life free from violence. You see, in Egipto, the life expectancy for men is a mere 27 years!! Violence and criminal activity has marked their reality for decades.

And yet, there is so much hope for change!

Elias talked with the gang leader and asked how they could support the disbandment of his gang. He admitted that they had been working on a documentary/movie about their lives and would love to finish it and show it to the neighborhood. Tonight is the official movie opening. The gang has spread the news and has invitedall gang members in Egipto to come and watch it tonight at the Buena Semilla. They insisted that Elias share the Gospel...

So tonight, my family has the privilege of gathering with 50 plus gang members to watch a movie about their lives and the hear the Gospel preached. They have showed signs of recognizing that Christ really is the only one who can break their generational sin, but haven't made concrete steps toward Calvary yet...

Anyway... I'm not very eloquent right now, because I'm simply amazed and blown away by all that God has been doing in and through the lives of this gang.

I ask that you pray... pray for tonight in a special, special, special way. The event is scheduled to be held from 6:00-9:00 pm. Lift this gathering up to Jesus. Pray that no scheme of the enemy would prevail. Ask that God would unleash his power and rain down his mercy and love. That tonight would be remembered as a night where Egipto experienced Jesus.

By the way... you can read more about all that has been happening as a result of the robbery here:

http://www.facebook.com/#!/notes/fundaci%C3%B3n-buena-semilla/the-last-week-testimony/1799482718146

Half-human. Half-monster.

"This is who we are," Emiliano covered one half of the drawing... "And this is who we want to be," he said as he revealed the other half.

I analyzed the drawing carefully. It was a face of some sort. Half of it was monstrous-- the skin was gone and only hollow bones remained. Sadness emanated from the empty eye. And the other half was a beautiful human face. Half-monster, half-human.

One week ago the GEBC team was robbed in Barrio Egipto (read previous post). The team was hurt, scared and a little confused. Why would God bring them to Colombia to work with the poor in Barrio Egipto, only to get robbed on the first day? However, we really do serve a God who can and will work all things together for good...

Pastor Elias, who heads up the ministry in Barrio Egipto, immediately began walking around the community and talking to people in Egipto. In order to put pressure on the thieves, he closed down the Buena Semilla. After two days of interrogations and conversations, some new information came to light. Apparently, in Egipto there is a law stronger than the legal law.

No one hurts anyone associated with the Buena Semilla... or else you leave the neighborhood. Or... you die.

The gang members were horrified when Elias let them know that the group they had robbed were on their way to work with the kids at the Buena Semilla. They were filled with remorse and claimed that they had no idea. They felt horrible and immediately wanted to ask the team forgiveness... and wanted to give them a glimpse into their lives.

So on Friday the team members and my mom met Elias and the gang members and their leader, Emiliano. They took turns apoligizing to the leaders and asking forgiveness. Then, they opened their hearts and shared about their lives in Egipto. They grow up only knowing violence. Most, if not all, had witness murders-- most likely, the murders of their own fathers. When the average life expectancy for men is 28, death runs rampant. They have become all but desensitized to sin and the damaging effects.

Emiliano shared a drawing he had made... allowing the GEBC team to see their internal struggle.

Half-monster. Half-human.

Oh, aren't we all? Without Christ we're tormented by conflicting desires. We know what's right, yet we don't do it... and we do what we don't want to do. We must experience the freedom in Christ, when he gives us new desires and transforms our hearts into hearts the beat to bring him glory.

This drawing was simply an explicit explanation of the human condition.

Half-monster. Half-human.

And when the team was able to forgive these men when they had nothing to offer in return... it was an explicit demonstration of the precious Gospel of Christ.

This was the message the GEBC team was able to share with gang members in Barrio Egipto. Elias had tears streaming down his face, realizing that this was an incredible breakthrough... some missionaries live a lifetime before seeing gang members repent.

And yet, this team of high schoolers from GEBC had witnessed this miracle. I wonder if they ever thought a simple prayer could do so much in so many unlikely ways.

"Use us to bring glory to your name."

A Spiritual Diagnosis

"The team was held up and robbed at knife-point."

The words came like a punch to my stomach. I felt a whirlwind of thoughts swirling through my mind at a sickening pace. I gripped my cell-phone and managed to

ask my mom, "Where? Was anyone hurt?"

"I'll tell you the story when I get home," was her only reply.

I hung up and allowed the words to sink in. Our home church (GEBC)

in the Chicago area had sent a team of 12 high school students to Colombia-- my home-- on a short missions trip. This wasn't the first time Bogota had been a GEBC missions destination, but it was the first time they were coming focused on working with the poor in the worst parts of Bogota. And working with the poor in large cities always involves risk.

Always.

I suppose it was bound to happen at some point. As a missionary family

in Bogota, we've seen, hosted and planned several mission trips to Colombia. But this was the first time any team had come into such proximity with the violent effects of sin.

After talking to my mom, more details began to fill in gaps of the story. Five men approached the group of eight as they were walking up to a children's home (Buena Semilla, which means 'The Good Seed") in Barrio Egipto. They were armed and demanded their valuables. Several cameras and cell phones, the church credit card and the pastor's wedding rings were stolen. Some of the men threatened the girls on the team, showing them their knives as a tool of intimidation. Thankfully, no one was hurt.

My thoughts kept bouncing back and forth between praying for the team and hurting for the thieves. These men probably had younger siblings or cousins who benefitted from the services that Buena Semilla offered. No doubt that they knew the pastor who had poured out his life for these people for over half a decade. And yet, they weren't free from the devastating effects of sin.

I felt my heart get heavy, as it absorbed the extent of our fall-- once again. As a passionate advocate for social justice, I find it easy to get caught up in the physical reality of these people: their hunger, their nakedness, their suffering. It's much easier to see their lack of physical resources or justice and fight for those, forgetting that these are simply symptoms of a deeper problem... a deeper sickness. The Great Physician offered the diagnosis long ago: sin.

Man wasn't simply cursed with having to eat by the sweat of his brow. Woman wasn't simply condemned to feel pain during childbirth. All of creation was cursed-- perverting our desires, our dreams, our motives, our relationships. We live in a fallen world. And working with fallen people puts us right in the middle of these fallen desires.

While these men followed their greed, they were controlled by sin.

The cry for justice must be met by a freedom from sin.

Barrio Egipto

Photograph by Rob Tracy

A Life that is Worthy

Passion 2011: Second Session

"Whatever happens conduct yourself in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ." -Philippians 1:27

Again, one of those verses that is seemingly simple to understand, yet glancing over it and moving on does not allow the meaning to actually sink in and change the way we live. During the second Passion session, Francis Chan took the time to unpack this weighted verse, allowing me to see the meaning in a new light.

It's like having one of those moments when you think to yourself, Ahhh... I finally get it, but knowing full-well that sometime next year you're going to have a: Now I REALLY get it moment. But isn't that the beauty of our journey of faith? Isn't that why we have assurances that God isn't finished with us yet (Phil 1:6)? Because we're constantly growing and constantly learning and by God's grace, constantly taking part in this process we like to call sanctification.

If I sit down and really think about what the Bible says-- I mean really says-- I get extremely confused. It doesn't make sense that a holy, beautiful, majestic God would have any sort of desire to know me. It doesn't make sense that though the punishment for sin is death, I'm still breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Yup, still alive. It doesn't make sense that a perfect Lord would step down from heaven into a lowly existence in a broken creation... for love. It doesn't make sense that God has new mercies, morning after morning. It doesn't make sense that Almighty God watched his son crucified because he loved us. This doesn't make sense.

But it's true.

And if I actually believe this message, shouldn't my life be different?

You see, when we are called to conduct ourselves in a manner worthy of the Gospel of Christ, our lives need to make sense in light of the Gospel. The word "worthy" means "same weight, equal." Francis Chan brought a scale on stage. If the Gospel sits in one basket and my life in the other... how does it measure up? If the reality of eternal life-- or death-- is something I truly believe, then shouldn't my life reflect this deep conviction?

I should be living with a tenacity that pushes people out of darkness and into Light. Extreme measures to bring the Gospel to an unreached people group? Radical sacrificial lifestyles in the heart of America? How can it even be "extreme" or "radical" when placed next to message of Christ?

When this message sinks from my head and into my heart, a captivating, crazy kind of love knocks me down and carries me away.

"I don't want you to be afraid of anything." -God

Dying to Gain

Passion 2011: First Session

"For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." Philippians 1:21

Doesn't this verse often rank in the, "oh yeah, I know this verse" category? How many times have I come across this verse and read over it quickly, because I'd let familiarity slip in and blind me to the meaning behind this verse? Too many times.

I find this verse so hard to grasp because, for one, it is so grammatically strange.

"To live is Christ."

Whhaat...?

"To die is gain."

I'd never really heard much of an explanation of this verse besides, while you life, live for Christ's glory and when you die, rejoice because you will be with Christ. And while this may be true, it didn't carry that much weight for some reason. But sitting in the Fort Worth Convention Center that first night of Passion, flipped this verse upside down and inside out for me. With some simple sentences, Louie Giglio shed light on this verse in a new way.

"I think Christians today have flip-flopped this verse. We say, 'For to me to live is gain and to die is Christ.' You see, we believe that we're living to LIVE and to get as much out of life, to GAIN during this life, but when death comes along, we're not TOO sad, because we still get Jesus after a long, successful life."

I shifted in my seat and allowed that sentence to sift through my mind. Was that what was happening? We were living to gain and then dying for Christ? Was I living to gain? My thoughts raced, skidding to a stop at my dreams and goals and ambitions. I want to live and make a lasting impact on this world. I want to live long enough to see a dent in poverty, to see the captives free, to see lives transformed. I want to be a mother, a wife. I want to live.

And while I think we are meant to live life-- and to live it abundantly (John 10:10)-- this cannot be the be all, end all. I cannot be more preoccupied with living so I can do things for Christ, than living so I can glorify him through everything. My ultimate reward, my prize worth living for, is my precious Savior. The things of this world ought to grow strangely dim when I contemplate his glory.

"To live is Christ," I whispered, "and to die is gain."

Oh Jesus, that I may live only for you, that you would be my supreme treasure, that I may live knowing that if I died today, I missed out on nothing because I have you.

Perfectly Forgiven

"Because when God forgives us he forgets our sins... completely. Right?" Eight-year old Diego asked matter-of-factly. I smiled and nodded. This was the beauty of child-like faith: what God said was true, because it was. He didn't struggle with overwhelming guilt by carrying a burden that was never his to carry-- the burden of forgiving ourselves.

I spent Sunday afternoon with a beautiful family from church. They are so full of love and hospitality; it was nice to be surrounded by a family here. They had three precious children who kept me smiling the entire time. While we ate dessert, I entered into a conversation with Diego, their oldest. Now, I can't exactly remember what was said to lead us to the point of God's forgiveness, but either way, I was impressed and touched by his genuine faith.

God forgives us and God forgets our sins. Completely. We can't exhaust God's marvelous grace. The forgiveness of our sins is not our task that was simply delegated to Christ. When I hold on to past sins, mulling over them, expressing intense and prolonged guilt, I don't understand the message of Calvary. If Christ says, "it is finished," who am I to say, "not yet, Lord?" His forgiveness was complete and his grace abundant. After guilt has lead to repentance, it has no place in my heart-- I've been set free from guilt by the precious blood of my Savior.

Oh, glorious freedom.