Story

Wednesday's pictures

Everybody has a story. I have a story, you have story; everybody has a story. No matter how old, young, educated, ignorant, poor, rich: everybody has a story.

Some of you have had the (mis)fortune of hearing my story: born in Nashville, asked Christ into my heart while sitting on my mothers lap, moved to Florida, moved around a lot, went to high school, met Amy, went to Trevecca Nazarene University (TNU), flunked out of TNU, worked for AT&T, married Amy, retired from AT&T, moved to Nashville, graduated from TNU, moved to Hutchinson, KS, received ordination, stirred by God about my responsibility to the world, went to Brazil.

We all have a story.

As I returned to Esqueleto this morning, I was reminded again that everybody has a story. Every face that I saw walking down the litter-strewn (litter-made) road has a story. I know mine, what was theirs? Who has made an impact in their lives? What are their hobbies? What’s their favorite color? Do they like Coca-cola? Do they know who Christ is and what He can do for them? I know that there are answers to all of these questions, because we all have a story.

Last week when I was here for the first time, I heard just a few of these stories. As I went door to door with several other team members and members from the Nilopolis Nazarene Church, I had the privilege of hearing some of these stories.

The first lady that we visited had been run over by a truck nine years ago. The tire went across her entire abdomen, and doctors were concerned for her survival. Even if she survived, there would be no hope of children, or even walking ever again. Now she is the mother of two, and walking as well as you and me. And she gives God all the glory for the miracles in her life. Now the church is being built just outside her front door, and she is going to be one of its first members.

Another lady we met has had a tumor in her side for many years. It has been causing her pain, and she doesn’t know if or when she will be able to have a doctor take a look at it and help her.

Another mother was sad and depressed, talking very quietly and under her breath. Come to find out that she has not heard from her oldest son since December of 2006. He started dating a girl that was involved with the wrong crowd, and they went off in December. Now, nothing. Even her voice says she has very little hope – just sadness and depression. Another life living next door to a new church.

Another lady we met was there visiting her daughter. She was not just any grandma, but the grandmother of 60 grandchildren and 14 great-grandchildren. Her dream was to start a school in a clearing between houses. A school to educate the children of Esqueleto – a ticket out of there. What a dream! I looked at the place where she wants to start the school, and have only thoughts like, how can you have a school in the middle of a trash pile? But not her. When we left (which we did about three times), she gave me the biggest hug and spoke to me like I understood every word she was saying. I didn’t, but I know she has a story.

Some stories I didn’t find out about. Like the family living right across the side street from the church, with their modest one-room (maybe 75 square feet) house with a single bed as their only piece of furniture, husband, wife, two children, almost hesitant to invite us in to meet them. Or Gabrielle, who smiled a great big smile when I handed him a baggie of goodies, only to call me a liar when I spoke in English (“liar-liar- you don’t speak Portuguese! You’re a liar!). Or the lady that was smoking a joint while bleaching her (boy?)friend’s hair. But whether I know them or not, they all have a story.

Now our stories intersect. I will never be the same because of it. Hopefully the same thing will have the opportunity to happen to the people of Esqueleto. Our stories and lives join in together for a brief, but important moment. I have been a small part of the building of a church in their neighborhood. I’m not the only story to have helped (for there were many, and will still be many more), but one story, forever impacted by Esqueleto.

Today many of us worked on the Esqueleto Church of the Nazarene. A church whose foundations are literally built into a land fill. Into the garbage, the refuse of life. What’s ironic is that was Christ’s original plan for the church from the beginning. A place for us to meet God, find salvation, gain strength. A place built where dirty, trashed lives can be transformed into beautiful stories; testimonies of God’s love and grace.

Now, because of the willingness of many people to allow their story to be affected by Esqueleto, the people of Esqueleto will soon have the opportunity to hear another story. Not just any story, but the story of a creator who loves them. The story of a God who made them just who they are. And a story of a savior who wants to be a part of their lives, no matter where that story might begin or where it has taken them. It’s the most important story of all – the story of how God loves and has provided salvation for his creation. And now the stories of Esqueleto can be transformed just like mine was many years ago.

Everybody has a story.