Last

Driving back late from our last work day, while Piano man resonated in the background and our worn voices hummed just behind the glow of Elton John and Billy Joel, I was once again struck by the silent beauty of the vast mountain ranges. All week I've been quietly gazing in amazement at the cascading trees, seas of leaves, and the astonishing views of the folding mountains. It is the most wonderful sight I've experienced in a long time, the feeling of looking out into the distance and seeing nothing but trees, mountains, waterfalls, rock faces. Yet tucked under the canopy of these wonderful mountain giants, sit nests of solitude. All week I've been looking over those trees and thinking, someone down there is living below the poverty line.

In eighteen years, I can never remember a time where I've been truly starving and not knowing that there is a hot (or at least microwaveable) meal waiting for me when I got home. And though I've seen people living in rough times, I sometimes feel desensitized. I can walk down the streets of chicago and not only see a homeless person, but I can usually expect to see a homeless person, head down, draped in dirty clothes, and shaking an old plastic cup for change. And though I might on occasion toss a dollar their way, I'm often too focused on whatever i'm doing to think twice about them. But it's the city and the pace is fast, and if I do choose to think about that person, I can often justify their plight by a lack of motivation, probable drug history, and irresponsible decision making.

But coming out here there is something a little different. Driving to our site, we turn off the paved road onto a dirt path, and then a mile up the mountain, past a majestic stream and beautiful, lush vegetation, we come to our house, a quaint little building set beside a worn trailer. Trash littering the ground next to rusting and dirty child toys. There is a feeling that this is forgotten ground. Yet next to our project sat one of my favorite sites of the whole week. This large cliff face with a light trickling stream falling down the side accumulating in a tiny pond with a statue of the virgin in the center. And each time I would get tired or frustrated with my work, I would often walk outside and stand looming over the pond and thinking, this is so beautiful.

And this is what I've come to realize: there is a whole lot of forgotten poverty in this world. I would often think, for every beggar that came to Jesus asking for forgiveness, or healing, or whatever, there were probably thousands who did not come asking for help. And he probably knew that, he probably knew that there was a vast amount of people he would never be able to talk to or try to help and I would constantly ask myself, how could he handle it. If I really thought about it, there is hidden hardship all around. But there is also hidden beauty. And if you can spend your time helping with what you can and marveling at the beauty around you, thats a pretty righteous thing. So though as I was leaving our house on the last day and thinking about all the stuff that I knew I could fix if I just had a few more hours, I did what I could, and I soaked in all the beauty I could while I was there. And when our homeowner was brought to tears saying goodbye to us, though I didn't try and show it, it was an elating feeling. 

-ty

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