Stacy, Isaac, Maria, and I visited a family for the second time this week. One of the women we visited was severely beaten by her husband a little while back and Marc and Stacy paid for all her medical bills and medicine, without expecting anything in return. This family wishes they could repay the Niles for their kindness, but cannot due to their poverty. But despite this, Stacy noted how very generous they are in giving what they do have: peanuts, sweet potatoes, etc.
We sat inside this family's home for a bit and I was able to observe what Stacy says is what the typical Bara home looks like. It was very cluttered, dirty, and filled with smoke (they cook their meals on open flames inside their home). Because of this, the cracked mud walls are caked in soot and are completely black. I admit: I cringed when I walked in and hesitantly took off my shoes (this is a polite custom in Malagasy culture). I prayed I wouldn't have to eat any food prepared by them and tried to touch as little as possible while inside their home.
My mind wandered back to a conversation I had with Marc and Stacy about people coming specifically to Betroka to minister to this family and others like them and I had the awful thought, "Where would you begin? It seems hopeless to change anything..." God convicted me right then and there saying, "So what if it's filthy... I love these people and they're not beyond hope. Are you going to put your health and your own well-being before reaching the lost?" I wondered in that moment what had happened to my passion to serve the poor. I don't want to be like the rich young ruler... Lord, please don't let me be like the rich young ruler.
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