Peru - The Irony of the Water Crisis

PRAY FOR PERU!!

If you have been following my Facebook at all in recent days, you've probably noticed that Peru is in a serious crisis caused by heavy rains in the highlands which have created landslides throughout the nation. With rainfall reaching nearly ten times the normal amount, landslides are wreaking havoc throughout the highlands and the desert, coastal region.

Crops have been washed away, produce has been lost, more than 60 people have died, and thousands have been evacuated from their homes. Friends of ours are facing the clean-up of such destruction as their house was filled with nearly 3 feet of water, which has since begun to dry leaving clay-like mud on everything it touched.

Ironically, despite the excess rain that has fallen, there is a water shortage in the nation's capital of Lima. Because water is coming down from the mountains with high levels of dirt, branches, and garbage, the water plant is unable to keep up with the purification process. This has led to water being cut in homes throughout the capital for the past 4 days.

Free water distribution sites were set up around the city to give water for cleaning and flushing toilets. People lined the streets for hours waiting their turn to fill barrels and buckets with water. Drinking water is sold out nearly everywhere, and even the places that do have drinking water for sale have begun to charge double or triple the price and limit the quantity one can buy.

There are food shortages as produce has become limited and prices have sky rocketed. Some supermarkets have increased prices of produce more than five times their normal cost. The shelves are nearly empty of non-perishable items.

Preschool, elementary, high school, and university classes were cancelled throughout the nation Thursday and Friday, and they have also been suspended Monday and Tuesday. Some provinces have cancelled classes until April 3rd due to the prediction of more rain in the upcoming weeks.

My heart is broken, but God is teaching me a lesson in gratitude. Thankfully, in our home we have had water for a few hours each day. The pressure hasn't been great, but it's enough time to fill up buckets, wash the dishes, and bathe before it gets turned off again. I've taken a shower (if you can call it that) with a bucket for 3 days now as the water pressure isn't even strong enough to push the water through the shower.

However, yesterday as I was feeling frustrated with the water situation, I was nearly brought to tears by my brother-in-law who had to be evacuated from his home with only the clothes on his back due to the river that flooded the property of the mission where they live. His almost 2 year old son, oblivious to the situation, running around and playing with a smile on his face, and his wife remaining strong even when all she wanted to do was cry.

I was reminded to be thankful - thankful that my house has been unaffected except the lack of running water, thankful that even though the water has been inconsistent, it comes and goes just long enough to save some, thankful that my life has been relatively unaffected by the landslides, thankful that the days off of school gave me time to work on my Master's courses and get ahead on my lesson plans, and thankful that despite my husband's job being at high risk due to the rising sea levels, he has also been safe and unharmed.

It breaks my heart that those most affected are some off the poorest of the nation.  Many farmers have lost their crops, and some have lost animals in the landslides. Those closest to the rising rivers have lost their homes and nearly everything in them. House insurance is nearly non-existent in Peru, and aid isn't always available. My heart breaks for those affected.

I'll leave you with some pictures from the last week. (Most of these I have taken from Facebook and news websites. I hope I don't get in trouble for that!)

 Helicopters taking people from affected areas.

Woman carried away by the landslide escapes by grabbing debris and crawling to shore. 

A cow carried away by the landslides. They think it belongs to the woman above.

BCM (Bible Centered Missions) property after the river overflowed at 2 a.m. Thursday morning. Forty people had to be evacuated.  

The home of my brother-in-law and his family who serve as missionaries at BCM.

 People lined up with barrels and buckets to receive water.

People buying water at the supermarket on Thursday before it sold out and prices tripled.

A Heart Divided

It's been over a year since my last post.

Last year I didn't send newsletters like I had previously done either.

This year will be different...

One of my goals is to post on this blog once a month and another is to send out a newsletter quarterly. 

But that's not the reason for this post, so let's get to the point.

Recently, I've been asked by a variety of individuals both in the U.S. and here in Peru which place feels more like home. Honestly, I hate that question, and I still haven't been able to give a straight answer. Although, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to give a straight answer.

Merriam-Webster defines home as

• one's place of residence
• the social unit formed by family living together
• a familiar or usual setting
• a place of origin

Taking those meanings into consideration, the first leads me to believe that Peru is home, but the last would imply that Indiana is home. The second and third definitions could be applied to either location.

So what is home? In my opinion a home is what you make it to be. My home in Peru and the life I lead here is much different than my home in Indiana and the life I once lead there or the life I currently lead there during my yearly visits.

As I explained to a friend yesterday, Peru is like my grown-up home. It's where I work, have responsibilities, pay bills, take care of and do life with my husband, etc. But Indiana is my childhood home, my security blanket, my inner peace. When I visit Indiana I get to live in the "past" in some ways. Mom and dad let me stay in their house and take care of me while I'm there, I get to see friends I've known for ages, and overall things really haven't changed much.

Yet, at the same time, Indiana is starting to feel less like home each visit. Knowing that I'll probably never live there again (my husband hates the snow and cold weather), it's becoming more of a refuge to escape the lack of safety and the homesickness I feel in Peru, but in some ways I also feel as if I've begun to disconnect from many of the places and things that were once so near and dear to me.

This return trip to Peru has been the easiest adjustment back to life here I've had yet. Except for avoiding the grocery store for the first five days, I jumped right back into life, filling my schedule with friends, events at the children's home and time with my husband. Today was the first day I've sat home and relaxed since I got back six days ago. 

It's good to be back home, but I miss my other home, too. 

I firmly believe that here on Earth, I'll never again have just one home.

But I do look forward to the day when all my favorite people from both "homes" are with me in our eternal home in heaven. 

And because my heart is divided here on Earth, my heart aches to see my lost friends saved. It's hard to miss them during long (or short) periods of separation, but I can't imagine spending eternity without them.

Starbucks and the Heart of God

The title itself is quite an oxymoron, I know. But let me begin by saying, I'm not supporting Starbucks, but I do enjoy a nice Starbucks frappuccino once in a while. However, I'm also not supporting Christians who have nothing better to do with their time than complain about a disposable cup. I have to wonder, are these same Christians praying or sharing the gospel as much as they're complaining? And if they aren't, then quite frankly, I don't really want to hear their opinion on the color of a cup or the lack of holiday spirit.

This month Missions Month at my church here in Peru. Last week for the kick off, the young adults (feels weird saying that as I don't feel that old myself yet) came in at the beginning of the service carrying flags from varying countries and lined up along the walls of the auditorium. My eyes began to water and my throat tightened as I tried to keep myself from becoming a ball of weeping flesh in my seat.

As I sat there, eyes watering and lips quivering, I thought two things.
1. Why am I responding like this? They're just flags.
2. Am I doing enough? Am I where I'm supposed to be or is God calling me elsewhere?

Then, as the announcements ran and the pastor got up to speak, I began to think and respond to these questions.

1. I responded in this way because my heart is broken for this world. The sinful nature of humanity, the downward spiral even Christians are facing, hate for our brethren, judgement that should be left to God, hidden sins, pride...I could go on an on. Each of those flags represent people who are lost and dying. Each of those flags represent nations where missionaries are working to spread the Gospel, and some of those flags represent nations where the Gospel is forbidden, yet God has sent His chosen ones to go and discretely share the Word.

2. I don't think I am doing enough. So, God sent me to Peru as a teacher, but I should be doing more to share His message, too. What's the next step? It's no longer me who decides where God is calling me, but I have to convince my husband as well. What is he thinking? Are we called to be missionaries somewhere? Are we called to be more involved with a missions organization here?

Honestly, I know I'm not doing enough to be an ambassador of Christ. My last blog post is proof of that, and I can't say I've stepped up my game much since that post either. I also honestly believe that if God calls me to be a missionary somewhere, He'll give that calling to my husband as well. As far as being more involved in missions here in Peru, Javier and I have that talk on a regular basis. It's just so difficult with his schedule to both be highly involved somewhere. We're working on it though.

I've spent this week in earnest prayer for missionaries I know and miscellaneous missionaries around the world. I admire them and what they're doing, and I sometimes wish God had given me that call rather than calling me to be a teacher. But then I'm reminded that being a teacher is one of the greatest callings. It allows me to work with young minds, to shape their thinking and to set an example for them that they may not see elsewhere.

Then there's the Starbucks issue. While I'm over hear worrying about the spiritually dead around the world and praying for missionaries in places much worse than where I find myself, Christians in North America are in an uproar over a disposable cup. First world problems at their finest.

Okay, I get it; the so called "Holiday cup" lacks holiday decorations. But, would you say snowflakes and pine trees represent Christ more than a simple red cup does? As a friend stated tonight, "I don't think the snowflakes of years past had anything more to say about our sinful nature and our gift of a Savior than the color red." She also stated that the red color of the cup could be argued that it represents the cleansing blood of Christ spoken about in many church hymns.

Dear Brethren,

We're missing the bigger picture!! Wake up!! Open your eyes and look around you! While you're boycotting Starbucks and tweeting/posting about how awful they are for eliminating holiday decor from their cups, people are being killed around the world. Christians are being jailed and/or killed for their faith. Have you stopped to pray for them, or are you too busy telling everyone how awful Starbucks is for choosing a red design for their cups? What if they used their normal cups year round, would you complain about that, too? At least the cup is red, right? That must stand for something.

Are you worried about seeing your lost friends saved? Are you taking a stand for Christ and speaking out against sin in a loving way, or are you spreading hate to those who believe different than you? Have you stopped to consider that it's absolutely ridiculous to even think that someone who is not saved should support the Gospel or even find it necessary to have Christmas decorations? Why celebrate Christmas if you don't believe in Christ? Yeah, the gifts are nice, but I could buy the same gift for myself if I wanted.

The unsaved have no reason to think, believe, or act as Christians should. They don't know Christ, they don't know His redeeming power, and they don't know they are lost.

It's our job to get off our our high horses, leave judgement to the Lord, and start sharing the Gospel in a way that causes others to desire what we have. It's time to make a change in our thinking, to change our point of view and to put our priorities in order. We need to stop expecting non-believers to act like believers. It's time to stop spreading hate and to quit making Christianity distasteful to the lost. It's time to start making Jesus desirable and attractive. It's time to bring the Kingdom to the people and make them long for eternal life in heaven.

It's time to stop complaining about all the bad, but to be the positive change.

Yours truly,
Jessica


So in conclusion, think about your words and actions, pray for the lost, and go out and share the Gospel. The world is waiting for you!

1 Corinthians 2:14 - The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit.


**Disclaimer: I am not perfect, and I have a long way to go before I am. I've written this post as much for myself as I have for you. Accept the challenge.

**Disclaimer: I am fully aware that Starbucks has made comments in the past contradictory to our Christian faith. I fully expect that; it's a company ran by non-Christians. I know that due to these previous comments, the removal of winter decorations from the cup comes as another sign that they are not for Christ. However, I will say it again - it's absolutely ridiculous to think that non-Christians should understand the importance of holiday decor when for them Christmas is just a day for gifts that most of them could by for themselves.

Public Transportation

I must admit, I'm a people watcher. At sporting events I'm generally more focused on the people entering and leaving the game or seated around me than I am on the game. At church, if you put me in sight of a doorway, sadly, I can guarantee you my thoughts will jump to whoever I see coming and going rather than the sermon.

I remember sitting in the lobby near the large window in my dorm during college attempting to study, yet finding my eyes and my thoughts wandering to the people walking by outside. I'd look at them and observe - what were they thinking, what fashion trend were they showing off, where were they going, what made them tick, etc.

Recently, I find myself doing the same thing whenever I use public transportation here in Lima, which is nearly ever day. Sitting in the taxi with music playing, I observe the taxi driver. Usually to make sure he isn't going to do anything to me or to be sure he's watching the road, but I often wonder about the person behind the wheel as well. Does he have a family at home? What is his background? Is he from Lima or does he come from the provinces? When was the last time he slept? Rarely, do I talk to these men that drive me around the city, but I wonder about them the same.

Then there's the busses. You have 10-50 people crammed like sardines into a tube on wheels. There's music playing, the cobrador is shouting names of streets and urbanizations, asking riders to pay the fare, and a driver shouting at the other drivers in his way on the road, but there is minimal conversation between the riders. Occasionally you'll find a few people on the bus who are riding together and conversing, but those who embark on their journey alone are entertained by their cellphones, music and newspapers. It's awkward if you make eye contact and even more uncomfortable when the bus is silent and one must ask their neighbor for directions.

Again, I find myself observing. In my mind I create life stories for the people around me based on how they are dressed and what they are carrying with them.

Woman A has just left the office since she is wearing a skirt and high heels. She looks freshly powdered, so I bet she's on her way to meet a friend for a coffee.

Woman B must have gone to the gym and then stopped to pick up a few groceries on the way home. She's wearing sports clothes and is carrying a gym bag. She's also wearing a wedding ring, and I see baby formula in the Wong grocery bag, so she must have a husband and baby at home.

I could go on and on, making stories for all of the passengers, but I'll spare you from reading my thoughts.

The moral of the story...

We're living in a globalized world, rubbing shoulders with people of different races, ethnicities, backgrounds and lifestyles on a daily basis. Yet, we have become a world of lonely, self-focused people. We plug our ears with our headphones, listen to our choice of music, and hide in the seat of the bus (if you're lucky to get a seat) avoiding even the slightest bit of eye contact until it's time to fight our way to the door. Even then, one might push and shove through the crowd, saying perdón, disculpa, permiso or any other phrase that kindly implies those in the way should squeeze themselves tighter together so that the passerby may get through. However, despite stepping on someone's toes or knocking someone in the head with your bag little eye contact is made.

Then there's days when I come home and think about the uniqueness of situations like these. As a Christian, am I missing opportunities to evangelize and share the gospel? What if the person standing beside me on the bus today is going home lonely tonight wondering why he is even on this Earth? What if the little girl I saw crying on the bus lives in an abusive home and she's running away? And I sit, guilty as charged, without saying a word, avoiding eye contact, and bopping my head to the music playing through my headphones.

When people ask me why I'm here in Peru I have a few responses:
1. I teach at a bilingual school here in Lima.
2. I came to volunteer with a children's home.
3. My husband is Peruvian.

Yet, maybe, just maybe I am here for more than that. Maybe I am here to be a witness to the other passengers riding on the same bus as me. Perhaps, I'm here to talk about the love of Jesus with the taxi driver who happens to give me a ride home from the grocery store.

Maybe it's time to take out the headphones, look people in the eyes, and smile at them as they board the bus and sit or stand beside me.

It's not an easy challenge, and I'm a pretty reserved person when it comes to talking to complete strangers. But it's a risk I'm challenging myself to take, and I'd ask that any of you in similar situations consider as well.

Blessings to you and yours.

Find a Man Who Adores You

About two weeks ago, Javier and I met a team that had come to work with Kids Alive for a week. This team came all the way from Lake Tahoe, Nevada and was in Peru for the first time. They seemed to be kind group of people as we conversed with them at the children's home and at dinner the following night. They asked the usual questions:

• Where did you get married?
• How did you meet?
• Oh, you grew up here! (to Javier) What was it like growing up in a children's home?
• Have you been to the States? (also directed towards Javier)
• Are you missionaries? / What do you do for work?

Even though this is the typical conversation we have with any international person we meet, I love it. It reminds me of the time I first met Javier. These questions cause me to reflect upon the God divine encounters we had up until I moved here in 2013. It gives me yet another opportunity to hear my dear husband share a bit of his testimony and his passion to mentor and set an example for the children in the home now. And it also takes me back to our time in Canada (as friends) in 2010 and our time in the States and Canada together at the beginning of this year as a newly engaged couple. And then, almost every time at the end of the conversation, Javier proudly takes out his cellphone and shows the new "friend" the video of his proposal, and I become a big ball sappy emotions. 

Every time we go to the children's home the girls are enthralled by my engagement ring. I, too, can't look at it without smiling, even after having worn it for the last 8 months. Not only is it beautiful and beyond what I expected, but it reminds me of a promise we made, to seek after one another, to do life together, and to fight together until our last day. 

As the girls "oooohhhh" and "aaahhhhh" over my ring, and then make similar comments about my wedding band, I have a chance to talk with them. I share with them the importance of finding a man that loves God first, that admires them and encourages them to be a better version of themselves, a man that loves them and enjoys spending time with them, that sacrifices for them, and respects them. I explain the importance of finding a man that values them, not a man that just wants to use them to appease his physical desires or a man that tries to buy their love. 

I have shared with them the beauty of having an engagement ring, and the process of arriving to that point. I've tried to express the importance of waiting for a man who will commit to them through thick and thin rather than a man who runs when times get tough. I've explained to them that the size of the diamond or the cost of the ring isn't what's most important, but it is a symbol. Javier didn't choose the biggest diamond because he wanted to buy my love; rather, he chose the biggest diamond because he wanted me to be proud. He could have chosen the smallest diamond in the world and I would have been happy simply knowing he loved me enough to take that step and commit himself to me for the rest of his life.

How did he design it? He took 3 rings I had shown him and combined them into one because he wanted me to have a ring that had all my favorite features from the 3 rings I had shown him.

So many girls who grow up without a constant male figure in their lives will run to the first man who is willing to pay attention to them. They make poor choices hoping to win the love of the boy chasing them and end up in broken or dangerous situations. My hope is that through the example Javier and I have set and the example of other Godly marriages that surround them, these girls (and boys) will value commitment, desire a Godly marriage, and wait until God brings the right man (or woman) into their lives.

Please pray for these girls and boys that Javier and I feel called to mentor and minister to. Pray that God shows us what His plans are for us concerning how to mentor and our timetables. Pray that the children are able to see something in us that they desire and to make positive life choices.

Let me leave you with the video of our engagement. Any man willing to dress up in a costume of one of your favorite cartoon characters is worth keeping. I have to say, my man is one in a minion!!