It Comes Full Circle

The Jamaica Mission Team is working away in the mountains of Jamaica surrounded by the Deaf Village that has become a part of the heart of WCUMC.

Look on the right of the page for the link to their blog!

One of the components of the trip is to visit the Infirmary and spend time with them on Sunday afternoon. Then return mid-week and take them a meal and continue hanging out and building relationships.

The most interesting component of this is the "Infirmary" is a cross between a nursing home and mental ward. Never in America would there be ANY place like this - conditions are abhorable and the people, for the most part, lie there waiting to die, flies, heat, and hopelessness surrounding them. Or so it seems . . .

For any American it would seem that hopelessness abounds . . . yet upon some time with the people you quickly learn they are not immersed in anything other than peace. They derive their peace from a source much bigger than themselves so it matters not that they have nothing but a bed and maybe, if they are lucky, a plastic box with a few possessions, they are at peace with who and where they are.

The most interesting thing to me, however, is that when the team arrived there yesterday (a year after the last visit w/ NO communication during the year - there's no way to communicate with them) . . the people of the infirmary, the men and women lying in their own states of helplessness called the people from WC by name.

They greeted our people by name.

They remembered.

I really, really, really try hard to remember people's names when I meet them! Unfortunately sometimes I "rename" people because I forget . . but more often than not I forget completely . . I struggle to remember, even though it is something I really want to do!

How is it that men and women in another part of the world, marked by cultural differences,distance,and failing health can remember a 1 hour visit and call the people by name?

Obviously something happens in that one hour visit that is a catalyst for changing someone's life.

I'm not sure quite yet what that means for me . . . but what I do know is that I hope every encounter I have can be a catalyst for change. Not just for who I am "encountering" . . . because frankly, that's the least of my concern . . . the change needs to happen within me.

Whereas I pray for the folks in the infirmary that they will feel God's peace, strength, encouragement, etc. I may want to revisit that prayer . . the ones who have nothing, who are presented with days lined with no hope out of a dismal situation, are the ones who are content. At peace.

I struggle a bit because my entire family is out of the country, on a trip I hold so dear to my heart, and I'm here . . . alone . . . little "pity party" can we say? And then I read their blog post - and I am reminded . . . like the Apostle Paul said,

"For me, to live is Christ. To die is gain."

Maybe my focus shouldn't be AT ALL on me! That's where the contentment comes from . . . . may God KEEP reminding me of that and may God keep on using those folks in the villages of Jamiaca to draw all people to the peace and perseverance that only God provides.

Grace and Peace, A