To See Through Their Eyes

I pass him by
Many a day
Selling sodas
To earn a small pay
He sells them on streets
To buses passing by
But its not what he does
That catches my eye

With a humped back
And no teeth in his smile
Tattered dirty cloths
His only choice in style
My guess of his appearance
He's no less than 65
With no 401 plan
The elderly still have to survive

I cannot help but wonder
What his eyes have seen
What is his life like?
Has he achieved a single dream?
I assume its a life
That has been quite full
Of many a hardships
And even more strife
Subjected to poverty
But wanting to live
His own family in need
Yet he is lacking to give

She sells bits of candy
Downtown in the night
Strapped to her back
Is her youngest weighing too light
Her child is sick and malnourished
Help is what she needs
And though she loves her child
She's too ashamed to plead

"They've helped me out so much" she says
"I dare not ask for more"
Yet her daily pay will not provide
For all her children (there are four)
Her children are hungry
And need to be fed
But what happens here,
When one can't afford bread?

I cannot help but wonder
What her eyes have seen
How many tears have fallen knowing
She can't help her own fulfill their dreams
I assume its a life of pain
As she is running in fear
From her abusive husband far away
Settling with her children here
Subjected to poverty
But wanting to live
Her own children in need
Yet she is lacking of to give

I cannot conceive
What it is like
To live as they live
Dirt poor in this life
I've always been sheltered
Never lacking a meal
With clothes on my back
Yet their fight is so real
I don't know why
My life is this way
With the blessings I have
I lack words to say

To see through their eyes
Would be something grand
To know their heart more
To better understand

I look in the mirror
And what do I see?
A child of God
Still in great need
As I stand before the throne
I am just like them all
In need of a Savior
For daily I fall

To see through His eyes
Would be something grand
To know my heart more
To better understand......

Insights from Sewage

This past Saturday we had one of our normal EE meetings in Santa Anita. In the middle of our meeting before our visitations, a foul odor entered the church. Then I could hear the sound of cars passing by, and the sound of them passing on wet cement. For those who don't know, it does not really rain here in Lima. It mists, and occasionally the mist will accumulate just enough for tiny droplets, but never enough to make a street that wet. My guess was a burst of a septic pipe, and as we left for our visits, we found that it was true, and much of Santa Anita was full of "stuff", mostly in water.

Yet, after our visits, some of us started talking about the sewage, and the truth that can be found in it. We had to be outside taking in the full force of what was in the street, and it smelt horrible! But, after time, we couldn't smell it anymore. And as we discussed, that sewage is just like our sin: Foul! Ruining every street of our life. Affecting everything. Getting splattered over everything. And soon, that smell goes away. The wetness dries. Yet, it is still foul, and we don't notice it. Our sin, as we live in it, looses its odor, we get used to it. But it is still there affecting everything and everyone around us, and mostly us.

Another thought. The next day, Laura and I were doing a duet in church. She was singing, and I was playing my flute. On the way to church I was polishing my flute, after it had gotten pretty dirty with my practicing. I placed the polishing cloth up in its separate part of my case, and somehow got distracted and didn't close up properly my flute in the case. When we got out of the taxi in front of the church at Santa Anita, part of my flute fell on the ground. Not just the ground. The muddy ground....muddy from the night before. Knowing that part of my flute was sitting in essentially sewage, I got so discusted! (I am grateful that it wasn't the mouthpiece of my flute... that would have been so much worse!)

But, that is like our spiritual life too. God works on us, polishing our lives, and what do we often do? Jump right into "poo". The sin that waits in the mud around us, and we often can't help but go right into it. Is the Polisher discusted, as I was? The most beautiful part, is that God delights in repolishing us, so that we shine. Not shining of ourselves, but shining forth His glory.

(and on another note (no pun intended) here is a picture from our music special at church)