The last thing I want is to judge anyone for anything. I haven’t ventured all the way to Guatemala in an attempt to love people only to then return home and dislike people. That’d be stupid. But it is very difficult, the culture shock; to witness firsthand the tremendous gap that separates two entirely different societies.
Yesterday I was very tired. I am still suffering from pretty intense jetlag. All day I’ve hardly been able to keep my eyes open. My eyelids are extremely heavy. Yesterday I woke up at 10 (with only 6 hours of sleep). I spent some time visiting Jesse’s grandmother in the hospital. We just stood there, and stood there, and stood there. After standing for far too long we went Father’s day shopping. We stopped at the Hallmark store, Frank’s meat market, Meijer, Papa Murphy’s pizza, and a party store in GH. I’m genuinely amazed at how quickly little bits of money can add up to a grand sum total and all the while slowly escape ones grasp. It seems additionally that while little bits of money meander off, time always goes away with it. After the spending spree we went to Jesse’s parents’ house. We watched TV and ate pizza. That was the whole of my day. I didn’t do anything significant. There wasn’t one thing I had to do out of necessity in the whole of 24 hours. It was a lazy day. It was a rather wasteful day.
I’m not complaining about holiday or arguing against rest but I cannot stop thinking about the shoe shine boys in Guatemala. These children can be found everywhere; young boys with little wooden stools and accompanying wooden boxes of black polish. The boys wear black smudges upon their clothing, their faces, their wooden necessities; black smudges cover their lives. They spend all day walking through the streets, or sitting on their 4 inch tall stools, waiting and looking for shoes to shine. They’re cleaver little sales men who’ll shine your shoes with black polish even if you’re wearing white sneakers. If you’re wearing sandals or in no way interested in a shoe shine they cut right to the chase and just ask for food or money or candy; whatever they think you’ll be most likely to offer. Here in America we don’t even allow our children of similar ages out alone and these young boys work the streets all day trying to make a living.
I feel strange just sitting around. I feel a bit sad just relaxing, enjoying the breeze on a warm summer day. I feel ungrateful not recognizing every tiny bit of freedom I enjoy knowing there is such want, such need, such toil being executed elsewhere under this very same sun. It’s difficult coming home.
"When the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the holy angels with Him, then He will sit on the throne of His glory. All the nations will be gathered before Him, and He will separate them one from another, as a shepherd divides his sheep from the goats. And He will set the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on His right hand, 'Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.' "Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You? 'And the King will answer and say to them, 'Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.' "Then He will also say to those on the left hand, 'Depart from Me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was hungry and you gave Me no food; I was thirsty and you gave Me no drink… Matt 25:35-42
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