Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Fix Your Eyes Part 2 January 11, 2006
The other area that’s easy for me to get my eyes off the target is with the issue of economics. Ever since I was in the Army I like to keep my shoes shined. Here the children in the street do a good job for twenty-five cents. They hadn’t been around for a couple of weeks at our language school, so I went to an elderly man on the corner. He charges thirty cents. I asked him if this was a good job. He said, “Not really, although I can make up to $5 or $6 on a good day.” I thought that I would bless him, so for the next three days I wore a different pair of shoes each day. As I was thinking about this, I asked myself again: what problem am I here to solve? It’s so easy to think that people’s problems are material instead of spiritual.
We have a gardener who works on the mission property who does excellent work. He and his wife have three children. He rides his bike about six miles to work. Many times his wife comes with the children in the afternoon and they all work together. The thing which impresses me about this family is their contentment in Christ. On a holiday I asked him what he would do. He said, “I’ll have time to read the Word and practice worshiping God.” He plays the guitar.
Friday I drove him home with his bike in the back of my Explorer. On the way home he volunteered: “God has given me victory in all of my trials.” I asked, “Do you have a lot of trials?” He assured me he did, and then explained how he was falsely accused and put into jail. I didn’t understand the whole story, but the guards had a guitar and he said he’d play it for them. He played hymns and praise choruses. The police liked it so much they let him out the next day.
Then he told me that he prayed for six years that he could be a gardener. One day the Lord told him to quit asking and start seeking. So the next Sunday he talked with my pastor who knew about the need for a gardener for the mission property. Since then you’ve never seen such a love affair between a man and plants. And on his lunch break I often see him sitting in the shade reading his Bible.
His world is so different from mine. I told him about the story of me getting locked in a bathroom. I tried to explain to him that in the United States the men do not publicly use the restroom. He said, “Wow, what discipline!” I responded, “Not really, we have a lot more bathrooms in the states.” That seemed to satisfy him.
When we got to the house he asked me in for a cup of coffee. “Please, I’d like for you to enter my home.” I didn’t really have time—or so I thought. Sherri was holding supper, so I called her and told her I’d be about twenty minutes late. First I got a tour of the yard. He had flowers in a garden, three chickens that would be ready to eat in about fifteen days, and in the back he had concrete basins with water for washing clothes. Inside he had a brand new refrigerator—about half the size of mine. This was a Christmas gift for his wife. We sat in the small front room on sofas with sheets over them. There were no doors, but sheets which separated the rooms. He took his rather ancient looking guitar and played me several songs. His wife was working in the kitchen. I got up to leave, but he insisted it would not take too much longer.
We talked about the Bible and he sang another song. I got up to leave, but he insisted I stay. Finally, his wife came in with a big grin on her face. She had prepared supper for me: coffee, two roles with cheese, rice, and a fried egg. She then brought out a plate for her husband and son. The table wasn’t real big so the girls ate in the kitchen.
While we ate I told him the story of why we are in Ecuador. God was gracious and gave me words in Spanish and helped me as I read his Spanish Bible and answered some of his questions. He said to me, “It is a great privilege for us that you eat in our home.” All I could say was, “Thank you for inviting me.” But my heart told me that I had a lot to learn from this man, who calls his bike “my little car,” who has seen the gadgets of the modern world but thanks the Lord every day for his job of turning over dirt with a spade. His eyes are clearly fixed on Jesus, and he has found great contentment in what he sees.
We have a gardener who works on the mission property who does excellent work. He and his wife have three children. He rides his bike about six miles to work. Many times his wife comes with the children in the afternoon and they all work together. The thing which impresses me about this family is their contentment in Christ. On a holiday I asked him what he would do. He said, “I’ll have time to read the Word and practice worshiping God.” He plays the guitar.
Friday I drove him home with his bike in the back of my Explorer. On the way home he volunteered: “God has given me victory in all of my trials.” I asked, “Do you have a lot of trials?” He assured me he did, and then explained how he was falsely accused and put into jail. I didn’t understand the whole story, but the guards had a guitar and he said he’d play it for them. He played hymns and praise choruses. The police liked it so much they let him out the next day.
Then he told me that he prayed for six years that he could be a gardener. One day the Lord told him to quit asking and start seeking. So the next Sunday he talked with my pastor who knew about the need for a gardener for the mission property. Since then you’ve never seen such a love affair between a man and plants. And on his lunch break I often see him sitting in the shade reading his Bible.
His world is so different from mine. I told him about the story of me getting locked in a bathroom. I tried to explain to him that in the United States the men do not publicly use the restroom. He said, “Wow, what discipline!” I responded, “Not really, we have a lot more bathrooms in the states.” That seemed to satisfy him.
When we got to the house he asked me in for a cup of coffee. “Please, I’d like for you to enter my home.” I didn’t really have time—or so I thought. Sherri was holding supper, so I called her and told her I’d be about twenty minutes late. First I got a tour of the yard. He had flowers in a garden, three chickens that would be ready to eat in about fifteen days, and in the back he had concrete basins with water for washing clothes. Inside he had a brand new refrigerator—about half the size of mine. This was a Christmas gift for his wife. We sat in the small front room on sofas with sheets over them. There were no doors, but sheets which separated the rooms. He took his rather ancient looking guitar and played me several songs. His wife was working in the kitchen. I got up to leave, but he insisted it would not take too much longer.
We talked about the Bible and he sang another song. I got up to leave, but he insisted I stay. Finally, his wife came in with a big grin on her face. She had prepared supper for me: coffee, two roles with cheese, rice, and a fried egg. She then brought out a plate for her husband and son. The table wasn’t real big so the girls ate in the kitchen.
While we ate I told him the story of why we are in Ecuador. God was gracious and gave me words in Spanish and helped me as I read his Spanish Bible and answered some of his questions. He said to me, “It is a great privilege for us that you eat in our home.” All I could say was, “Thank you for inviting me.” But my heart told me that I had a lot to learn from this man, who calls his bike “my little car,” who has seen the gadgets of the modern world but thanks the Lord every day for his job of turning over dirt with a spade. His eyes are clearly fixed on Jesus, and he has found great contentment in what he sees.
// posted by North Andean Field @ 4:51 PM 
