My eyes are closed and my soul is in conflict. So many things tackling my senses at once and my mind has trouble processing what my eyes have just seen.
When I open my eyes…it’s still there so far below me. The trash. The dump. The ants scurrying over it…wait, no…those are people. There are makeshift tents down there.
I shift closer to the edge of the cliff. I’m not going to fall, but I feel like I have to be seeing something wrong and a closer inspection will solve the confusion. My eyes try to make sense of the layers of color and shapes.
But my eyes are not deceiving me…the Guatemala City dump has families that live there, sorting through the trash to find food and items to sell for a meager amount. Grandparents, parents…children. Living in horrid conditions…how can the world exists like this?
My heart plummets as I am called by the rest of the team to go. Why is no one doing anything?
Assaulting my ears as I turn away is a musical sound that doesn’t fit the view I have been soaking in. My brain struggles to place the sound in this place where it shouldn’t logically survive. It is like the atmosphere was tickled with a sound so feathery light that allowed it to travels for miles unhindered.
I hear the laughter of a child.
In a dump.
Sadness, anger and an intrepid sense of injustice washes over me as I turn to walk away from a moment that has marked me.
It’s been years since I first stood on that cliff, but ever since, my soul cannot escape the memory of that sound.
I could have very easily not heard the laughter. I could have ignored it. I could have decided to wall up that moment and never think of it again.
But God uses our senses to remind us that this world is not right and this is not what he intended. He uses those moments to ignite us to his mission…
God gave you ears to hear…but the next time he wants you to hear, will you listen? How will you respond?