When I meet my sponsored child.

Recently I was privileged to serve with Potter’s House (PH) (a ministry to the children and families who work and live around and in Guatemala City’s dump), and other local ministries.

As we left PH’s classrooms, we walked past a few men salvaging what they could from a mound of garbage, to sell. I admired their resourcefulness.

 

We passed colorfully painted buildings, a Mayan woman with a basket of fruit on her head, and men in front of a store.

Jefferson, our sponsored child with Potter’s House, and his family was the second of four families we visited. 

Davy of PH served as translator and guide as we prayed and delivered a bag of food to each family. Before we left, PH instructed us on the 8 Forms of Poverty.

We entered a narrow dusty alley, and walked into a room, which barely held our team of six. 

Jefferson and his family, and those present from our A.I.M. team communicated with our eyes and smiles, and with Davy’s help.

We met Berta, Jefferson’s mom, and two of his three sisters: a baby and a toddler. Meeting Jefferson and his family made my trip worthwhile.

Berta (Jefferson’s mom), Jefferson on my lap. They had a front door, the next home we visited did not.

I asked Jefferson what he enjoyed. He liked funny jokes. We asked if he would share one. He bent his head, smiled, and said no.

Earlier, I asked Jefferson’s PH kindergarten teacher (where he went in the morning for tutoring and lunch) before attending public school, what Jefferson was like. She chuckled and said he was kind, but a handful.

I wasn’t surprised she said he was kind, because in his first letter, he asked me to pray for his dad to stop drinking.

With tears streaming down her tired face, Berta told us her husband abandoned them three years ago when he began drinking.

Berta washes plastic bottles, picked up from the garbage dump, to support her four kids. She said she watches her two youngest kids while she works.

She had a UTI but she couldn’t afford medicine. Davy suggested she come to PH’s free medical clinic. Doctors donate their expertise, and others donate medicine.

A tearful Berta shared she didn’t have an education, but she wanted her children to be educated and have a better life. We commended her for being such a strong and good mom.

When Davy said I was his sponsor, he walked from behind his mom, and we hugged. My heart warmed like a growing fire.

At one point, his big brown eyes welled up and spilled over with tears as I shared a favorite verse, Hebrews 13:5, where God promises to never ever abandon or forsake us.

Earlier, he sat on Davy’s lap. She asked if he wanted to sit on my lap as we prayed for him and his family. 

When we said we would pray, Jefferson immediately bowed his head and clasped his hands together. He asked us to pray for his sisters and for his grades. We also prayed for his parents. Then we gave the groceries to his mom, and hugged everyone.

Unknown to me, my new friend Angela snapped this picture of Jefferson and me.

Alene Snodgrass, our fearless leader, is in the background.

It seemed so little in a giant pool of need, but Davy assured us it meant a lot to the families we visited because they knew we had traveled to see them.

Later as I reflected, I thought about how much God loved Jefferson because He allowed me to travel about 1300 miles on two different flights so I could talk to Jefferson in person. Meeting Jefferson and his family was a priceless gift.

I left part of my heart in Guatemala with Jefferson.

Now when I pray for Jefferson, he won’t just be a face. I can visualize his smile, hugs, clothes, home, family and neighborhood. I have a better sense of his daily struggles and his life context. 

I prayed Jefferson would grow up to bless to his family and community. I believe he will, as he already does.

Please join me in praying for Jefferson and Potter’s House ministry.

Our visit also made me think about how Jesus left heaven, an infinitely greater distance, to come and be a touchable and personable God. A God we could see, talk to, and relate to, and not a distant deity.

It humbles me to think of how far Jesus went for love: leaving the splendors of heaven for an earthly human existence, bleeding and dying on a cross, and then resurrection.