I've just begun reading Henri Nouwen's Gracias!: A Latin American Journal. His observation really struck a chord with me and what little I know about the place I now call home:
"Latin America: impressive wealth and degrading poverty, splendid flowers and dusty broken roads, loving people and cruel torturers, smiling children and soldiers who kill. It is here that we have to hunt for God's treasure. I pray that my stay in Bolivia will teach me much more than Spanish."
This is my prayer as well. Yesterday one of the missionary couples here had us over for lunch, and gave us a little history of the country, including the dark rituals of the indigenous peoples that to this day practice paganism (I'll spare you some of the gruesome details). Today we visited a Catholic church in La Plaza San Francisco. At some point I will upload pictures, but it is a sight to behold. Although ornately decorated in beautiful colors, gold, and other precious metals, the statues of saints represented to me false hope for the people of La Paz. I saw such despair in a woman praying and weeping to one of the saints. I just wanted to share with her how there true hope and true grace in the One who knows her intimately and wants to help her in a way that these saints cannot. There is One has sacrificed all for her so she doesn't have to earn salvation.
It is my prayer that I learn much more than Spanish. I want to be an imitator of Christ so my students will be able to imitate me. I desire a broken heart for the people of this city and this country.
