by Debora Rodrigo
A few weeks ago, I left Arequipa, understanding that my time there had come to an end. These past few days, I have tried to be intentional in thinking and evaluating my time in that beautiful city. I came back to the list of objectives I had written some months before when I accepted the Daggetts’ invitation to join their team and spend a somewhat extended stay working closely with them. I knew the language (mostly), and even when the culture was still very foreign to me, I already knew the place and some people; I thought God could use my presence there and prayed for it. I will not lie to you; reading that list almost one year later, I didn't have the feelings with which the seventy-two came to Jesus after being sent (Luke 10:17), feelings of marvel for what they had done in His name. I did not see my goals surpassing my expectations, and surely it was better this way, so I would not find many reasons to feel proud of myself. But the last point of the list I had written caught my attention, definitely fulfilled above all my expectations: “To grow and let God work in my life through others.” Let me tell you about it.
If you know a little about my life, you may know that my last years have been characterized by the unknown and uncertainty. Two words that, despite knowing better than I would like, still make me shake. You should meet Catta! Like many other Peruvians, Catta lives her life without having the slightest idea of what will come next, but knowing, from a very young age, that any situation can, at any moment, change for the worse. However, thinking about it means suffering for free. Instead, her mind is always occupied with what those around her lack, how to deal with current injustice, and how to make the burden of others more bearable, even when, at least from my sight, she has not the resources for that. Then I see myself with more than I need for now. Why, then, do I worry about my future when I know God will not let me lack anything? From now on, I want to change the worries for my own future to worries for the present of those around me, as Catta does.
I also met Yorka. Yorka had to leave Venezuela due to the unfortunate situation in her country and arrived in Arequipa looking for a home in a country that is not hers, a family among the loneliness of a group of strangers, and love in a hostile and distrustful environment. Her situation makes me think: Where do I belong? What makes me think I am different because I own a birth certificate and a passport from a certain place? From now on, I want to choose to recognize myself as a foreigner wherever I go, gathering with those who are also seeking for a home and inviting them into the kingdom of God, where we all are called to belong.
Liliana taught me with her life something important about mine. For some reason, as I visited her weekly, she wanted to take me for a walk to the city cemetery one day. There, we had what may be the deepest conversation I have ever had with anyone about death. Since then, this became a recurring topic in our conversations, whether we were visiting the market or coloring with pencils in the park. I, as always, so intentional in my words, tried every time to lead the conversation to the glory of eternal life. While she, having touched death with her fingertips, responded to me each time with a kid's innocence about living life, right now. She, with her natural and explosive laugh, with her willingness to sing and dance anywhere, anytime. What can my words, abstract concepts, and elaborated ideas teach about what it means to be alive? From now on, I want to be aware that my life in Christ is already here, and I want to live full of life, like Liliana, and show others what eternal life really means.
I could continue telling you stories about how I found out that recognizing pain in our lives and not trying to hide it is a powerful tool to connect to others, to understand them, to walk together, sharing not only each other’s burdens but much more. Or how people from whom I didn’t think I could learn anything about Bible showed me how important it is to be aware of God’s presence, find Him everywhere, and be aware of His magnificence with respect and reverence. Not to mention a group of US students unwilling to use their lack of knowledge of the language or culture as justified excuses to take refuge in their comfort zone, a family, the Daggetts, who set an example to me in their relationship with others, and a girl, Caily, a quick learner and a brave traveler who doesn’t let difficulties slow her down.
So many times, I have heard about missions as bringing God to others. Well, what if God is already there, and missions are just living God with others in a way they can recognize Him as well? Because being a missionary is much more than guiding others, getting ready to demonstrate what you know, teaching about Bible, and getting outcomes; it is about walking with others in a continuous exchange of love, truth, and life, exactly the same as being a Christian wherever you are. I had to go to Arequipa to understand this fully.
From Jeremy: Please continue to pray for Debora and Sira, their present and their future. And if you haven’t yet, check out her book Her Story: Women Whose Names Remain Written Forever with original illustrations by Debora’s sister. It’s in the spirit of Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls, but in this case, it’s the story of over 70 women whose names are mentioned in the Bible—stories that men and women need to hear.
