We are the Same

“The sun still rises in the east,” my new friend Gretchen says with a certainty that I can’t muster.

In response, I mutter under my breath while grasping for my bearings. My true north. Something familiar.

For all my early bravado this trip is hard.

Seemingly no one goes to this remote, mountain village in Guatemala. Not even our young, local translator Julio has been there.

The beauty of the region is overshadowed by my shallow need for an electrical outlet. Wifi. A toilet that flushes. And in all honesty a glass of wine.

My discomfort brings to the surface all that is selfish. Forcing me to see myself in a light that is not flattering.

In the cracks of my heart I find myself stretched. Incrementally holes appear. And eventually I see beyond the lack. The need. The deficits.

I understand that we are the same.

These lovely indigenous Mayan people and me.

We may not share a language. Or a country. Or a history. But we are human. Loved of God. We share a desire to improve the health of the community for their children. This joint venture happens in the form of latrines and hand-washing stations orchestrated through Medical Teams International.

As we dig, saw old boards, and mix cement I discover the power of proximity. Up close I am captivated by strength. Resilience. Grace. My eyes are opened. My heart enlarged.

Efficiency is clearly not the goal and initially I am confused by this.

Building relationships. Respectful teamwork. Mutual consideration. These are the goals.

It is about joining hands in prayer. Peek-a-boo with babies. Simple eye contact. A hug. A smile. And even some days dancing.

Perspective is everything. It is a catalyst for understanding.

Tools and walking sticks in hand we approach the steep, narrow climb to the next home. Despite the rivulets of sweat running down my back I notice an easy familiarity developing. Camaraderie despite language barriers. Shared satisfaction with each finished project.

This is community. Togetherness. I am now bound up with these people. Forever smitten.

I receive far more than I can ever give. For I have given of my abundance. My privilege. I have running water, wood floors, and electricity.

Their thankful words I cannot shake and they echo through my mind, “We don’t know where you came from, we don’t know how you paid for this and yet you came”. The words a clear message—each day I get an opportunity to choose. To show up.

For all my flaws and failings my edges are now framed by this experience. My soul tender. I am forever changed.

I am reminded again that the world is bigger than my ordinary life. Problems more profound. Inequity undeniable. My arms just aren’t long enough to wrap around everyone. But as Mother Teresa astutely said, “If you can’t feed a hundred people then feed just one.”

Thankfully the sun does rise in the east. Maybe I have found my true north.

We are the same.

Just show up.