Tar Paper Shack

I am not sure where or how to begin, words never have come easily to me, especially when it comes to explaining what the Lord is saying in my heart. Language falls so short, any language. This story is more about what the Lord has shown me rather than what He is telling me.

Recently at a prayer meeting at church, we took a collection for a lady who needs medication. This lady is the mother of a large family. She is a grandmother as well and she has ten or more people living with her (not sure if they are all family or not). I came to get involved with this family through my friend Marcela. You see Marcela was leaving her work the other day and rather than showing up for an appointment, she felt the Lord tell her to go home and on the way, saw this family picking through the garbage looking for food. Marcela can relate to that as that used to be part of her life as well not so long ago. Now the Lord has changed her circumstances and her heart but she still remembers what it is like to have to look through the garbage for food. So she had compassion on this family and took them to the store to buy some food and a few things they needed, even though Marcela doesn’t have a lot herself (by Canadian standards anyway).

Fast forward to the prayer meeting one night later.

A few members of this family took Marcela up on her invitation to come to the prayer meeting at our church the next day. We took an offering and then went to buy the things that were needed with the money that had been given. Afterwards we took this family “home”. I put home in quotes because it could hardly be called a “home”. Marcela and I followed them into their house to find their bed ridden mother/grandmother inside. I have never really seen the inside of a tar-paper shack (maybe once briefly in Paraguay) but this was so hard to swallow. It was cold that night and the wind was blowing the cold air through the many holes in the boarded up, patched together walls. There was one mattress in the room (the size of a very small bedroom) but there were 8-9 people in there. The smell inside resembled the smell of an outhouse, just not quite as strong. The baby lay on the mattress but fell asleep beside the make shift boarded up wall that was full of holes.

As Marcela shared the hope of Jesus with this family, they all seemed quite content and comfortable; perhaps I was the only one uncomfortable standing on the sloped dirt floor as I tried to keep my balance in the dimly lit room.

That night after we parted ways, I returned to my house speechless. “They have nothing” I kept thinking, with tears running down my cheeks. “Lord how do they live in there”? In Canada, our garages are plush mansions compared to this home.

The next day Marcela and I returned with the medicine for the mother/grandmother. As part of our routine, Marcela and I prayed together before we set out, feeling weak but strong in the Lord, knowing we only had to be willing to be used by Him, and that He would do the rest. When we arrived, everyone was sitting outside of the house, visiting with a lady whom we had not yet met. They quickly welcomed us and brought two broken unstable looking chairs to sit on…………………

We took our seats and Marcela and this lady began to visit. As it turned out, this lady (Blanca) was a niece who RARLEY visits. Marcela and she hit it off and talked for an hour, while I took my usual position of praying my heart out for Marcela as she talked and for the people as they listened. At times I got distracted from praying as I focused on trying to understand the Spanish that was being spoken between 2 native speakers at a record speed, and the open sewage that rushed out from the house into the street and the smell that it produced.

“Lord sometimes I have good thoughts and feel privileged to be here, but sometimes the overriding feeling is to get up and run away, far away”. This time the latter was what was coursing through my brain. I wanted to go back to Canada, where it is comfortable for me, clean and safe. I know this is only the beginning of our time in serving the poor here in Mexico, and is only the beginning of spending time in places like this, I think that is why I wanted to run. It can seem like a big mountain to have to scale. Sooner or later however, the Lord brings perspective back to me.

Did not the Lord himself come from a much more glorious place than Canada into a gross and smelly place? Was not the first smell He smelled as a little baby, the smell of animal feces? His “house” was hardly a place for a newborn baby. “Lord to say ‘thank you’ isn’t enough, I need to give you all of me, I can’t run away”. “You took your cross and now I need to take mine, though you gave so much more than I could ever give”.

As Marcela and I left the family and drove back to my house, my thoughts were still of running away. Then God touched my heart with his grace and mercy (which he didn’t have to do) and gave me a better perspective. He reached out and touched me because of his loving heart.

Marcela then spoke up, “Did you understand what happened last night to Blanca?” (Remember she was the niece who had visited with Marcela). I confessed I didn’t follow Blanca’s story enough to understand what had happened. Marcela then explained how Blanca and her boyfriend had a fight the night before as he had come home high on drugs again. He accused her of cheating on him and grabbed their baby saying that Blanca would never see the child again. Blanca also grabbed the baby and a struggle over the child began. Blanca pleaded with him to let the baby and her go. He then tried to rape Blanca but she somehow managed to escape with the baby in her arms. She managed to find a place to stay that night and had what she called “a vision”. She saw her auntie’s face and then a voice told her that her life was going to change the next afternoon. The next morning she went to her auntie’s house and that afternoon Marcela and I arrived and she heard the good news and hope of Jesus Christ from Marcela.

Thank you Lord for your mercy. I know you have called me here and even though at times I want to run, I have peace about being here. Thank you that you allow me to see your mighty hand at work around me. Use me in my weakness Lord. Be glorified.

The family in this story has been coming to church here and there since this story took place. Thank you for your prayers, we need them!

Blessings to you this holiday season.

Sheri Elliott