Diego, Day 152

My diamond has returned to my hand as I’ve no further reason to conceal it. I’ve enjoyed a long hot shower with great water pressure and I didn’t have to think even once about what types of parasitic organisms would have ended up in my stomach had I accidentally opened my mouth. I’ve giddily flushed tons of toilet paper thanks to our grand American sewer systems and I don’t think I could find a toilet here like the stench filled hole hidden behind a few boards at Saquilla if my life depended on it. My clothes are clean without any traces of mud. The television is readily accessible. My car glides forward ever so smoothly on our nicely paved flat roadways and the bucket seat hugs me as drive. I’ve willfully engorged myself on two separate occasions already. I am home.

My return to the world I know all too well has brought more with it than simply further enlightenment on all the luxuries we take daily for granted. I have little faces set fast within my mind. I’ve returned home with an increased love for the people of Guatemala. I’ve returned home with names engraved upon my heart. There was one little boy, Diego, it seems I always fall head over heels in love with just one. I have Diego to pray for, to bring before the Lord in petition every single day. A part of me wishes adamantly that I could have stayed. I wish I could have endured the parasites and stinky toilets only to have an opportunity everyday to say, “I love you” to that little boy. If every day I could tell him how special he is and how much God cares for him. If every day I could remind him of his future, tell him there’s a purpose to his life, hug him and play basketball. If every day I could be there for just that one, I feel my life would be perfectly complete.

He remembered me (at least he remembered us) from years before. The look of sheer joy he wore at our return was priceless. He was different than the other children. He enjoyed playing with the rest of them but he was beyond eager to help out in any way he could. He moved tables and chairs with us. He painted some. He helped round up the other children. He taught me a little Quiche. He was brimming with joy. His smile is priceless. Diego lives in the mountains of Guatemala in a tiny home unfit for our gardening tools. His clothes are full of holes, his shoes are beyond worn. He goes to school, but at the age of 13 he’s incredibly close to completing school. He’s so young and such a precious child but in the world where he lives he’s practically a man. He attends the feeding program near his home twice a week with his 5 brothers and 1 sister (there’s an infant brother back home who’s too young to attend the program just yet).

Finding someone so special with such a grim future looming ahead of them brings unending tears. I can only hope. I can only pray. I cannot live there but bits of my heart have stayed in Guatemala with Diego.

So we have continued praying for you ever since we first heard about you. We ask God to give you a complete understanding of what he wants to do in your lives, and we ask him to make you wise with spiritual wisdom. Col 1:9 NLT

Spanish word for the day: Broma - Joke