I had a heart Until I became a Missionary

I loved this quote by some unknown person. And I think you have to be doing service oriented work in a third world country to truly be able to relate to it. But since that is what I am doing and since I lived in a third world country for 3 years, I can totally relate. I am going to quote the following from a woman whose blog I read who is doing humanitarian work in Haiti. She and I understand each other. Seh is responding to hearing this quote for the first time.

"At the time, it seemed an odd statement. Seemed a bit backwards. But the longer I'm here, the more it rings true. Don't get me wrong. I love it here. In so many ways, it is life-giving. It is EXACTLY where I want to be and EXACTLY what I want to be doing. BUT... I totally get that statement. At times it must appear to others that I really do not have a heart. When I pass begging street kids in Port and just don't even make eye contact anymore. When I don't feel obligated to take in a kid or find a solution for school. When I feel like, "yeah, that's not my problem."

It's interesting because I don't think it's me becoming "jaded." I don't think my heart is calloused. I don't think I'm becoming desensitized. In fact, I think it's the opposite. I think it's that my heart is so incredibly OVER sensitive and overstimulated by the UNENDING need. I think my heart simply realizes that if I am going to be able to survive here for the long run, it needs to protect itself. It's simply a survival mechanism."

I too wonder sometimes about my heart. It used to be different when all I did was dream of opening an orphanage or feeding the poor or running a clinic for people who never have medical care. But that was before I actually did all those things.But that was before my daughter and son were held up by 6 men with AK47s. Before we were run out of our lakeside home by banditoes that felt it was no longer convenient for us to live there as we would see them when they robbed the second homes of wealthy Guatemalans. That was before a government official who does not like the fact that we educate and love the Mayan children decided to shut us down and throw them back into the streets. That was before it has taken us months to get paperwork that we have been told 50 times we have already been approved for. That was before Fernanda hugged me and told me she could not wait to come back to us where she was safe. That was before her dad put her in the hospital and then she ran to the streets. That was before we almost saw her dead body in a morgue. That was before the Mayan mothers we give free milk to rioted because they wanted more than we had. That was before I had faced the reality of running an orphanage and feeding programs in a third world where the goverment is corrupt and the people so desperate for simple things like giving their babies milk so they don't die.

Have all these things and many more I can't think of right now changed how I feel about working and being in Guatemala. No I just love it and the people more and more and dream and plan and try to raise money to help more and more of them. My heart is their heart and sometimes I feel I am more there than on this snow covered mountain. I know I am supposed to live in the states at this point in my life and I would miss my grandchildren terribly if I weren't. Just this last week-end we had 15 of our 18 children and 5 of the 7 spouses and 12 of the 17 grandchildren together for two baptisms and two baby blessings and celebrated 6 birthdays. No way I would have missed that. But as I was going to a 3 year old granddaughters birthday party, I was waiting to hear from Pedro about Fernanda and the morgue. I am glad my life is so rich. I would not have missed the family life or the work in Guatemala for anything. I love them both. And feel richly blessed for the opportunity of both in my life.
Does this amke sense. Hope so.
Vicki