El Salvador

[In El Salvador], the rich have freedom to live and the poor have freedom to die.  --Dr. Virgina Funes

El Salvador is around the size of Massachusetts and is the most densely populated country in Central America. Here in the US, about the only time we read of this nation is when there is a volcanic eruption, a hurricane, or an earthquake. As horrible as these natural disasters have been here, Salvadorians are also experiencing the daily soul crushing disasters that always follow in the wake of extreme poverty.

The average monthly income is around $300.00

Out in the rural areas, people are living on less than $1 per day in makeshift shacks that have neither running water nor electricity

Fifty-percent of the children here are living in extreme poverty.

Given the extent of poverty, over one-third of the people lack access to either public or private medical care. The cost of medicine in El Salvador is the highest in the region. People are suffering with cancers, digestive disorders, HIV/AIDS, heart disease, and respiratory infections. Seeking to address this disaster, the government decided to provide free healthcare, which, in turn, created a demand that exceeds the nation’s resources.

This is why we are here, why we have brought in 15 million dollars worth of medicines.

Next to me is Luis Morale, the founder and director of Fundacion Corozones de Vida; a non- profit organization based in Metapan, El Salvador. The organization provides various forms of aid throughout El Salvador. Luis graciously joined with us, utilizing his extensive network to help us distribute the medicines we have brought in.

One of our first stops is the women’s prison in San Salvador where we distribute desperately needed medicines. This place was built for 1,000 inmates. There are over 4,000 women incarcerated here.

The “cells” are chain link fences, with upwards to eight women in an area made for one woman. 

As I am walking by these cages, my mind races to find the appropriate adjectives to describe this place: appalling, disgusting, dangerous, degrading, heart wrenching … but none of these words come close.

Just when I thought I had seen the worst of this place, however, I noticed all the children. My heart vomited.

“What kind of madness is this?”

As I turn and look at our team members, I see horror, tears, and compassion. Instinctively each of us fans out and begins talking and playing with these children.

There are 85 children here, 5 years old and younger, living with their mothers. I asked how long they would be here and was told that once they are around 5, they are removed and sent to live with a member of their extended family. 

We had a great team of physicians and nurses helping us to distribute the meds. Walking around talking with some of these women with what limited Spanish I can remember, each and every one of them repeatedly thanked YOU, our donors, for sending them the medicines they and their children so desperately needed.

The hospitals here are not places we here in the US would ever take our loved ones. Throughout the day, I saw and heard that there were not enough rooms, not enough beds, not enough food, not enough caregivers, and not enough medicine. Gratefully, the physicians and nurses are highly trained and skilled, and care deeply for their patients.

We spent considerable time talking to various doctors, as well as community leaders out in the rural areas where the meds we brought in were to be distributed.

Dr. Hector Valencia, the chief surgeon over the cancer ward at the hospital in San Salvador where we were bringing in a bulk of the meds we were distributing, told us that there is a dangerous lack of antibiotics, medications for HIV/AIDS, pain management, and pretty much any and all medications needed for cancer patients.

The wealthy people here in El Salvador can fly to Panama or Costa Rica or even to the US, and receive the medical care they need. But the poor are stuck in their shacks and can only walk so far. These are the people whom you helped by sending in all these medications.

Small Gifts, Big Smiles!

Forty years ago when I first started traveling to Developing Nations around the world, one of the first things I discovered was how often I was asked … for shoes! The requests almost rivaled that of being asked for food and medicine.

In this shipment to El Salvador, we included almost 4,000 pairs of shoes. When we distribute food or medicines, it is always a very traumatic experience to witness the diseases, the desperation, and the people who are at death’s door. But passing out shoes to children: it was an awesome experience! 

As always, a deep “thank you” from the bottom of my heart for making this shipment of help and hope to El Salvador a reality. Because of your generosity, hundreds of people are receiving medical care that otherwise would never have taken place.

Monte

When God Laughs, So Should We

It is unbecoming for Christians to get antsy and anxious over conspiracies to dethrone the Lord of the Universe.

Conspiracy Spotter: OMG did YOU see this, Lord?

Ex-Lord of the Universe: Crikey, what can I do NOW? All my plans for the future are being foiled!

Uhhhh, no. Psalm 2 tells us that when God sees the conspirators and their machinations, He laughs. Talk about evidence of omnipotence: when you are pointing the best ya’ got at Him and He bursts out laughing ... O man, you’re toast.

Sadly, Conspiracy Aficionados (CA) not only grimace and fret over every perceived sneak-attack on the Almighty and His plans, they spread their anxiety like a disease to all who listen to them.

CA: What? You aren’t angry and anxious like me? Here, read this book, listen to this radio program, watch this guy on TV, and go to this web site. Your eyes will be opened!  

Opened to what, exactly? That God is no longer … God? That you have discovered something He has overlooked? That the earth is no longer the Lord’s? That ultimately hate will prevail over love? That a cabal in DC has rendered the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ meaningless?

Yes, nations conspire, peoples plot, and rulers rise up and band together against God and His rule. Their efforts, however, are only so much grasping after wind. The One enthroned in heaven laughs and scoffs, and then reminds us all that there is only one King and one unshakeable kingdom.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014

The Morality Police v Jesus

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.  St. John

So. There were these teachers of the law along with some Pharisees who were getting fed up with Jesus and how the people were hanging on His every word. Everything about Him was love, love, love, which was making them look bad, because they had none. As they had just caught a woman in the act of adultery, they took the opportunity to trap and expose Him as an antinomian: a man who was actually against God’s Law and, therefore, not sent from God. The Morality Police thought they could set Christ up for a fall. It’s not going to end the way they had envisioned.

“Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?”

Jesus, apparently ignoring them, stoops down and begins writing in the dirt. The self-appointed Sherriff’s of the Kingdom are thinking they’ve got Him. “Answer the question!”

“Okay. Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”

And He goes back to writing in the dirt.

At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.

We have no idea what He wrote but it clearly hit them in the sol plexus of their consciences. I wonder if it was their offenses: maybe some that, under OT law, deserved stoning?

When you remain blind to your own offenses, it’s easy to carry around stones just looking for some sinner to whack upside the head. Self-righteous people are notorious for lacking self-awareness, for the hubris of behaving as if their souls are stainless, and for ignoring the hell their own behavior has unleashed on others.

Jesus wasn’t going to have anything to do with such a lynch mob.

After the yahoos scurried away, He was left alone with the woman. Standing up, He then asks, “Where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?” She replies, “No one, sir.”

 “Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

People already know they are condemned. What they don’t know is that God has provided them with forgiveness and freedom in Christ.  

In my youth, unlike Jesus, I would have made the Pharisees eat the rocks. But not Him: He simply and gently provided a mirror with which they could see their own sorry souls. And what of the woman: at the very least, she deserved a strong rebuke, didn’t she? But there was no sermon about the wrath of God on sin, no monologue on the wickedness of her adultery. He didn’t even wait for “signs of repentance” before letting her know that He didn’t condemn her but He did want her to stop living this way.

St Paul wrote that, when we see someone who has fallen and can’t get up, we are to seek to restore the person, gently. (Galatians 6.1-5) This is assuming their lives are any of our business. When people are down and out, we are not to throw rocks at them, kick them while they’re down, or condemn them. As with Christ, we are not sent out into the world to condemn people, but to manifest God’s love for them by laying down our lives, so as to see them restored.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014

When The Obstacle Is The Path

The Quest We jump, we throw ourselves in: aaaaaand we’re off and running toward the goal of becoming whom we were created to be and doing what we were made to do in the world. Somewhere along the line, however, we aren’t getting anywhere. Everyday we are faced with the same issues: we’re doubtful, discouraged, depressed, despondent: whatever. We are at a stand still.

We decide the obstacle on our path is with the people with whom we have surrounded ourselves. Maybe it’s the church/ community/ friends, the leaders, or the job that is keeping us from moving out and moving on. “Come on. It can’t be me.” We criticize and castigate, we condemn and we depart, seeking a more faithful people or a more advantageous atmosphere for “becoming” and “doing.” In no time at all, we are doubtful, discouraged, depressed, despondent: whatever.

From here, we will make one of two decisions:

1)    The Quest is nonsense, idiotic, bogus;

2)    Stay put

Choosing Door Number Two, we accept who we are, where we are, and what we are. (This doesn’t necessarily mean we approve.) We live our lives, we go about our work, we seek to love God, others, and self; we eat, we pray, we go to bed. Tomorrow, we rinse and repeat. And in the forgetting of getting on down the path, we actually end up getting somewhere.

Sometimes getting from Here to Here is exactly what we need to be doing.

Sometimes the drive for making progress is filled with pride and vanity.

Sometimes we idealize The Path, and “progress” becomes an idol that beats the living daylights out of us.

Sometimes it is not growth we are after but escaping from dealing with the consequences of our past failures.

Sometimes staying put is the only way to move forward.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2013

Life as a Fiary Tale II

Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious … I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it. –St John, Revelation 2.17

“I don’t know my name.”

He slaps his knee and bursts out laughing. “Of course, not! None of us do. O, we have names that can be useful in this world, but they are like scaffolding the King uses while He is building the real you. Most people mistake the scaffolding for the building.”

“King? What King?”

When he answers me, his voice sounds like an echo from another world. “The King who has been invading your head and heart all these years, of course! Where do you think the visions and voices are coming from? What you are calling ‘torment’ is actually the wooing of the King. It only feels like torment because of the contours of your heart.”

“I want to meet Him.” (I wonder if I should have formulated my reply as a question.)  

“He wants to meet you infinitely more. Then you still intend to jump?”

“Yes.” Hearing myself, I sound far more confident than I feel.

“When you do, you will land on a path at the bottom of a mountain. You will know you have found the right path when you see a raging fire.”

“Well that explains all the paintings of mountains being consumed by fires. They’re metaphors.”

The counselor squints his eyes while scanning the paintings. I can tell that he is recalling the fires he walked through. “Metaphor? Yes. No. There will be days where you wish the fire were only a literal one. Whatever you do, don’t run away. There is no way around it—if you want to meet the King. But know this. If you will keep choosing to press forward in pursuit of the Name Giving King, keep embracing the fire, then it will gradually begin blazing inside your soul.”

“Is there any other path?” I was being facetious. He was not amused.

“Don’t ask questions for which you already have the answer. The fire is necessary -- it is burning away all that is not the self the King created you to become. Make no mistake: this path is perilous. Sometimes the fire will take the shape of friends offering you solace and an easier way up the mountain. Their paths only lead to cul-de-sacs. Sometimes it will appear as another king offering you magnificent treasures, if you will leave your path and serve in his realm. It’s different for each of us. In my case, I was almost felled by the fire taking the shape of people who wanted me to rule over and care for them. In my vanity, I succumbed. It took me years to escape that dark place.”

I am now certifiably terrified. “How will I do this? How will I know the difference between a ruse and a gift from the true King?”

Handing me a book, “This contains the history of many of those who have set out, as you are, to meet Him. There are also songs you will want to sing, poetry you will find comforting when reciting and, best of all, there are the memoirs of the King’s closest Princes who knew Him well when he walked among us two thousand years ago. If you will learn from the book, adhere to the wisdom it offers, your ability to keep going in the right direction by making the wisest choices will increase. Most importantly, as you continue to read this book, you will get to know the King you are seeking.”

“One last thing: wherever you find yourself, the King hears your heart. Talk to him, question him, ask for what you need, and call to him for help. He will always hear you, always be there for you in ways that you need most. But beware: He doesn’t count time, as we do. He’s notorious for being late, while always on time.”

I ask him about my amnesia. “When will it pass?”

“Don’t be in a hurry. The amnesia is what motivates us. Yes, you will get insights here and there as to whom you are becoming and what you are here to do. The thing you want to hold on to most of all is meeting the King face to face, when He will give you a white stone with a new name written on it, a secret name known only to you.”

Lost in thought, I am startled when I see a cup about two inches from my face. “Drink this. It will dissolve your fears and strengthen your heart.”

As I am drinking, I begin falling through the couch, the building, the foundation, the earth, further and further down, into another world.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014

Life as a Fairy Tale

Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious … I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it. –St John, Revelation 2.17

Well, isn’t that special. My friends organized an intervention, demanding I go for counseling. I shouldn’t have been shocked. You can’t keep telling people you never feel like you fit in, that you are tormented by hearing voices telling you there is another self that you need to become, and that sometimes you can almost see into another world, a parallel universe, without raising a few eyebrows. And now here I am about to step inside a counselor’s office.

When I step inside the office I can’t help but wonder if he is the one with no oars in the water. He looks like Jack Elam, only his eyes are even crazier. His desk is cluttered with parchments that appear to be maps and the walls are covered with paintings of mountains being engulfed in flames. When I go to sit down on the couch he is pointing toward, I have to shove dozens of old books out of the way.

Looking at the maps, I ask him if any have written on them, “Here be monsters.”

“You know about the monsters. Good.”

I look for a knowing twinkle in his eye that says, “I am pulling your leg,” but it isn’t there. His demeanor is intensely earnest and utterly genuine. I want to laugh but don’t. And then I feel like a bell has been rung in my heart. At last: a fellow psycho.

I am expecting a litany of questions that will help in his diagnosis. He takes a different tack.

“You are standing on the edge of a precipice. You can turn back, deny the reality of the visions and voices that are tormenting you, and take your place with what society calls normal and sane. Or you can jump, throwing yourself into the quest that your heart has been begging you to embark upon. Choose normalcy and you will need to find another counselor. Choose to throw yourself in and I will do what I can to help you find your way.”

My first thought is of my friends and how they are expecting me to come back looking and sounding like them. But the second thought is more powerful. What if this is my last shot at finding the door at the back of a wardrobe? I’m going with Lucy.

 “All my life I have been tormented by this angst. I have tried to be normal. I threw myself into work, hoping the flurry of activity would drown out the voices. I have joined groups and crowds seeking to look like everyone else, but the feelings of not belonging were only exacerbated. I have tried every alternative path I have seen, but the one right in front of me is always – right in front of me. I have to do this. I have to jump. There is no other way for me. One way or the other, I have to see where jumping will lead me.”

“Good. Now. Who are you,” he asks.

Dumbfounded, I sit there with my mouth agape. I draw a blank. “What’s happening to me?”

“Okay. What is your name?”

I try to answer him. It’s on the tip of my tongue. My mind races ...

“I don’t know.”

(To be continued…)

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014