Always more--so, do it!

Tomorrow (Friday), several of us are visiting the Emberá Purú village again to introduce some new people.  While there, we are planning on telling the story of the Good Samaritan to the 30-or-so children that live there.  A classic story, of course—one that we know from our earliest Sunday School days—but, like everything in the bible, never quite loses its applicability.

 Here in Panamá, I have met so many people.  They all know me—the young, new gringo in town (there are many stories here, by the way, so we’ll just stop there).  But every time I meet someone knew, I encounter more poverty than the last person I met.  I wrote of the Chinese lady and the young mother in my last post, but those hardly cover the spectrum.

 In El Valle, drunks lay in the streets, children offer tours for tips, and everyone has a tangible need.  Today, we visited a family for whom a group just built a new house.  In the old house, the baby was sleeping in a shoe box, her skin covered in roaches.  Now, not a roach can be found in the new home!  Last night, an American friend here was talking about his grandson who was adopted from Russia.  He was 17-months old when they adopted him, and he weighed 17 pounds.  (Sorry for the jump across the Pacific Ocean, but it gets my point across the same.)

 There is so much needed in this world.   There is so much to do in this world.

 We can always accuse the people before us for our inherited messes, but we must then do something about the mess.  If we hesitate, come tomorrow, we are to blame.

 When I’m hearing these stories, I want to do so much, but I feel so powerless!  I want to sober up the borrachos (drunks) and give every child I see a $10 tip just for being precious!  I want to find every child around the world a home, even if it has to be my own.  Then I remember how expensive adoption is, and that I’m a single, 20-year old guy with no steady income.

 There’s almost always that moment when I realize I simply cannot do what I wish I could do.

 And I’m sure that the Good Samaritan could have stopped there, too.  No, I’m not adopting a small child in the near future, but I can do more than what I’m doing now.  How I’ll do that tomorrow, I’m not sure.  But I can only imagine the opportunities I will have, and by God’s grace, I need not falter.