One week trip

I had the grand privilege of going to Bolivia for a week on a medical missions trip. I went down two days early with my father-in-law and brother-in-law to visit Juan and Eva and the office where Drew and I will be working. The trip was wonderful, and the medical clinics went very well. Each day we saw over 400 people. It was pretty incredible to see how much we were able to get done each day.

I returned from the trip exactly two weeks before the time Drew and I will be taking off to move to Bolivia. The trip to Santa Cruz was a bit unsettling for me this time. It is a hot, dusty, dirty city full of all sorts of nasties. A friend living in Cochabamba once told me that Santa Cruz was the Sodom and Gomorrah of Bolivia, I see that now. Santa Cruz isn't just a hot nasty climate, but also a depressing and overwhelming place where too much is accepted and allowed as a cultural norm. This is not a place I see to be desirable to live in, at all. As I started to think about this as a place I would be living for an indefinite amount of time, I began to get depressed. I immediately began comparing it to Chattanooga and Cochabamba, or any other place Drew and I might find ourselves.

Then I had a conversation with my taxi driver. The conversation and what happened would be considered something normal, and almost to be expected. This is nothing out of the ordinary. The guy who took us to the airport to meet the team coming down wanted to show me something on his phone. As he took it out, the background screen had some porn on it. As he realized that he was also showing me that picture, he quickly hid his phone and apologized. I'm never good to respond in the moment, I'm just not that fast. I turned my head away and tried to think of how to respond. As far as I remember, I didn't do anything. But that conversation has been constantly on my mind since then. And somehow it has brought some hope to my outlook.

Santa Cruz is an undesirable place to live. It is dusty and dirty, but beyond the natural dust that covers everything there is a filth that affects our hearts and minds. I am so deeply hurt by the way that women are objectified in Bolivia. I am so deeply hurt by the way that women are treated by men. I am so deeply hurt by the way that ideals of beauty have been distorted. I am so deeply hurt by the way that prostitution is the only way some women find a means to feed their families, and its legal. These things are offensive and repulsive. Who wants to live in a place where these are the norm?

That is why I am going. I truly believe that God has given me a desire to love these women, and men. I believe that men and women are made in the image of God, and therefore, have more to offer than the distorted image of human worth that is so blatant in Bolivia. Instead of being depressed and overwhelmed, my prayer is that I can be thankful to be able to share something more hopeful with those I come into contact with.

So, now, I look forward to going to Bolivia knowing that these things I will be fighting against are heavy and hard. But I come to share a Hope that has already conquered this and so much more. That is my Joy.