Where The Streets Have No Name….

– April 1, 2008Posted in:

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Hey Blog-amigos and amigas!

Hope your week is going well!

Have you guys ever checked out www.Ragamuffinsoul.com? It’s the Blog of an awesome new friend of mine called Carlos Whittaker from Buckhead Church, ATL. Every Thursday he does something called Creative Chaos – tons of bloggers all post ideas on his site each Thursday about how we can be creative in ministry…Go here and you can check it out: http://www.ragamuffinsoul.com/?p=4824

So today I want to share one thing thats REALLY increased my creativity in ministry and worship – its traveling and missions…stepping out of my comfort zone and my normal daily life and spending time "where the streets have no name"!

I was looking through some old photos and this one flooded my heart with memories. It was from a 10 day trip to Lima, Peru last year with Compassion International. I wrote a Spanish worship song and performed it to the villagers in this are of the slums. After singing I walked to the top of the hill and looked out. To my amazement the shacks just stretched out for mile after mile across the horizon. Thats when my friend snapped this photo. I felt so small at that moment, surveying the vastness of the poverty and desolation.

But it reminded me that to travel way outside our comfort zones and see extreme need really does work in opening our eyes and hearts to the condition of the world, in changing us and widening our vista on life, and in increasing our creativity as we are stirred to make a difference. Seeing that kind of need and poverty made me realize that music truly can cross all walls and barriers. As I sang that Spanish song about 50 pairs of eyes watched me, people from SUCH a different life, world and language. Yet as I sang somehow we were all one, and the message of Jesus’ love traveled on the words and music, from my heart into theirs…

Creative Arts are a powerful way to reach across gender, nationality, language and economic conditions… As people who are creative and artsy we can use our creativity to transcend so many barriers, and spread a message of hope and love! Be inspired!

My question for y’all today….

"Have you ever taken a trip to somewhere ‘where the streets have no name’ and witnessed poverty and need? If you have – how did it change you? If you haven’t, where would you like to go?"

Love to you!

Vicky : )

Related Posts - these might also be of interest:

http://flowerdust.net anne jackson

i am one of the ugandan bloggers…my heart today feels the same as the first day when we were there…
emily w

It began the moment I stepped off of the small plane and saw a huddle of some of the children that we would be teaching in Lietnhom, Sudan. As I got to know the children of this village my heart was stretched with a deep compassion and love. I would look at their faces each day, their dirty hands and feet, many of them with one tattered outfit by which we began to recognize them, and sense a love for them that was from the Father’s heart. I wanted to shower them with affection and encouragement. Their spirits and smiles stirred my spirit and sharpened my vision for the world.

At one point my team member David and I were talking about how our hearts were being stretched with God’s love in ways that we had never experienced, and he said, “I don’t think it can pop!” At times it felt like our hearts were about to explode with love for these beautiful children.

On our way home we stopped in Kibera, in Nairobi, Kenya (this was only three weeks before the tumultuous election that devastated many Kenyans), and had the opportunity to feed the orphans in that area.
This is where I experienced the culmination of that which God had been working in my heart. I sat in the dim kitchen, behind an open door, through which the orphans would pass me an empty bowl. I can remember seeing the line of children with empty bowls, and all I wanted to do was to absolutely fill that bowl to overflowing before passing it back. I just wanted to HEAP the food into their bowls, smile at them, and let them know that they were so beautiful and precious!

This was when I was given an overwhelming reminder of God’s heart for the orphan. If I, as a frail and flawed human was allowed to feel this degree of love and compassion, how much more does the heart of God contain love and compassion for the orphan, and for all of His children (after all we were once orphaned, and now we are children of God!). Like the children waiting in line with empty bowls, we come to Him empty and His desire is to fill us until we overflow with His love! In my journey over the last few years I have often focused on the justice and power of God, and have had a difficult time knowing of His great love in the deepest place of my heart. I praise Him that He allowed me to experience a small measure of His love in a tangible way.

The words of this hymn played continuously in my head throughout the time that we were in Sudan and Kenya:
Could we with ink the ocean fill, or were the sky of parchment made, were every stalk on earth a quill, and every man a scribe by trade
To write the love of God above would drain the ocean dry, nor could the scroll contain the whole, though stretched from sky to sky
Oh love of God, how rich and pure, how measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure, the saints and angels song!
Caitlin

Last fall I went on a 3-month trip to Africa. I visited Zambia (working at a mission hospital and then a mission school) and Tanzania. Both were absolutely BEAUTIFUL, but just ruined by poverty! AIDS has such a dreadful impact on those nations. It spoke to my heart and I pray that it will affect how I live – if any of you ever get a chance to go to Africa… do it! God has a great work to be done there and He can and will use us. :)
http://rawkalways.blogspot.com Linz

Currently I’m smoothing out the details for a missions trip to Tokyo for one week and the Passion Tokyo Conference the next week. depending on what district the college is located in, I think the streets will have names. but I’ve never been on a missions trip outside the US, and I’m looking forward to making that connection. Pray for me, if you will! :D
http://www.jonathanpaulmusic.com Jonathan

Ah, the glory of fish tacos! I had some decent ones at Rubio’s in Phoenix last year. It’s a chain that started in California ( http://www.rubios.com/ ). Now I’m getting hungry!

I have been to where the streets have no name, and I want to go back! I almost made it to Lima (with a really great group of people I met in Rome), but that didn’t end up working out. However, in 2006 I went on a missions trip to Tanzania that was amazing. Of course an experience like that can hardly be contained in a small blog comment, but I’ll highlight a couple of the things that stood out to me.

I was really surprised how even in remote areas of Africa where they don’t even have a good source of water there is a need as part of the missions work going on there for an almost infinite number of skills: computer tech, photographer, videographer, sound tech, cook, construction worker, pilot, and even unskilled workers and a million other things.

It was also quite an experience being in a place where you never blend in, where you are always observed; it’s almost like living on a stage for weeks on end! I liked the simplicity of life there. Life also has a raw unvarnished quality to it; we woke up one morning to a dead man floating at the edge of the lake – just a few steps from our lodgings. After having beef for one of our dinners, we walked through one of the closest areas of shacks, and saw some of the rest of that same cow… and at least some of us were very glad we hadn’t seen it before we ate the meat!

The people there were lovely, very friendly. It was heartbreaking to see the conditions they lived in, the widespread disease, the lack of education and the effects of violence.

One other thing that made me sad was how some of the missionaries there seemed to see the locals as almost a different sort of people from us. Perhaps I’m just naive, but wherever I travel, I’m more struck by similarities than by the differences among people. Everywhere from the upper management at fortune 500 companies to the beggar on the streets in America, or the child dying of aids in Africa, people are looking for someone to notice them, to respect them and give them love.

Though all of us who went on that trip to Tanzania wanted to go back as soon as possible (and for a longer time), I’ve yet to make it back. The best I’ve been able to do so far is support others to enable them to go on similar trips. A couple of my sisters are going on one trip to Central America this year, and my dad is going on another trip a little later in the year. I’m so excited for them; for what God is going to do in them and through them!

Of course, another way that this sort of experience impacts you is that you look at our American (or European, or whatever) materialism differently. I grew up treating money carefully, and with regular giving just being “a given.” However, once you’ve been to a place like that, it does change how you make choices about how you’re going to spend your money. Of course, on the other hand, if you’re not careful, it’s too easy to slide back into your old normal mode of operation.

I can picture the people gathered around you as you sang that newly-written song. God willing, it won’t be long and I’ll be back where the streets have no name. If I get my way, the trip won’t be so short this time.
http://www.myspace.com/nathanarnoldmusic Nathan

Hearing Jonathan talk about Tanzania is killing me! I have some very good friends who are missionaries in Tanzania and I have been yearning to go visit them and serve them. My church is sending a team for 2 weeks this summer but I couldn’t join them. Hopefully someday.

It’s been too long since I’ve been on a mission trip out of the country. I have spent time serving the homeless in Portland, OR and it’s incredibly humbling. But the streets there have names… namely Burnside.

Actually… the most humbling experience I had was in Portland with a homeless man whom I wasn’t even there to serve. I was walking to my car during a break at work and was asked for some money. I apologized and told him at the moment I was totally broke and was a few days from payday. He asked if I was hungry and offered me a bag of chips. A homeless man offered me from what little he had. I was totally blown away. I asked him to come back on Friday because I wanted to buy him lunch, but I never saw him again.

That was years ago and I still think about it almost daily. How someone with nothing was willing to give to someone with pretty much everything, at least everything they need and most of what they want. It is so counter what people believe of the homeless, but something I have found over and over again.
http://compassiondave.wordpress.com/ compassion dave

A few years ago I went on a mission trip to India. I was an advocate with Compassion International at the time, but this was not a Compassion trip. However, the Lord used the trip to ignite the fire (as it pertains to my Compassion ministry).

I thought I knew.

I said it over and over, “I thought I knew what poverty was.” Truth was, I was absolutley clueless. I thank the Lord for that experience and all the other experiences that have since followed. And I thank Him for the Compassion ministry which allows me to vent my service.

God bless.

Jesus + Compassion
http://mikeritteronline.com mike ritter

I live in East Texas. Okay, it’s no developing country, but the need of people in this area astounds me. As a substitute teacher I have seen kids come to school filthy with silver-capped teeth or ashy skin. Living in subsidised housing, my neighbors wrestle to pay rent or eat. They jump from food pantry to pantry and some clinic to clinic.

Second- or third-hand clothing isn’t a shabby-chic fashion statement, but a way of survival. The falling economy isn’t a big deal to them because the economy left them behind a long time ago.

I wrestle to chase my dreams and aspire to great opportunities, but see around me simple and broken people who do not have any money to afford their dreams or have had their dreams and aspirations disappointed too many times.

“Blessed are the…”
http://www.wisdommoon.com Wisdom Moon

I was born in S. Korea and lived there from 1981-1990 in poverty. My oldest sister actually was a sponsored child when she was a kid.

I’ve also gone to Peru, Chile, and Mexico on mission trips in the past few years.

I think growing up in a third world country till I was nine really influences how I look at life today in a positive way.
stephen

Actually, I was very near where you were in the summer (their winter) of 1991 to help the survivors of the first cholera outbreak in an industrialized country since 1895, just the first of many since then. I believe over 400,000 were at one time infected and almost 40,000 people evientually succumb to that single epidemic that spread all the way to northern Mexico. It didn’t even register in the public consciousness here. The frustrating part is with basic sanitation and precuations the brunt of the event could have been avoided. Unfortunately, they are not much more prepared now than then, yet the conditions that make such disasters possible have become more prevelant and extensive throughout south and central America. Peace out,

Stephen
Adrianne

I grew up in Yemen, in the Middle East, and the poverty there was really bad. We lived in the third largest (I believe) city in Yemen, on the Red Sea, and not far from our house there was a shanti village, one of MANY in the country. The people were forced to live in rundown ‘houses’ made of cardboard boxes and rusted metal, with no running water. Outside of the city, many people lived in grass huts, with no electricity and no running water, and they would have to bring their donkeys to wells to get water. Nearby there would usually be a small, white-washed mosque, with electricity to equip the loudspeakers. It’s really heartbreaking, to see these expensive, fancy mosques right in the middle of extreme poverty. The water from the wells is full of parasites and not safe to drink, so many people get sick and die from illnesses that could easily be prevented by boiling the water and practicing good hygiene. It’s awful how poor the people are, though they are some of the nicest and most hospitable people I’ve ever met. They would invite us over to their houses, and go and buy me chips and candy, and would share everything they had with us. I’m going to college in the fall to get my nursing degree, and then, God willing, go back to Yemen and work there for at least two years. If you remember, keep Yemen in your prayers, it’s 99.9% Muslim and they really need it!

I hope that all made sense, it’s late here and I’m tired :)
jessica do c. anjos do monte

Weel!! When looked at this picture, I saw that this fact is well next to me. In my city and throughout Brasil slums as those where there is so much in need, both of material goods and deprived of affection and love.
Here people do not become shocked because it seems so normal, it is ugly as a framework that is regarded by far through the window of the car, looking as if they hear is nothing’s wrong in the landscape.

I do not know what I could do, just pray for them, but I know that people of God has worked in these places, speaking of the love of God for the hungry, drug traffickers, bandits leading them to repentance turning them into men and women of God. If I can be change but everything here so you get to do this all ending violence and poverty in those places. May the love of God fill all the hearts and afitos distressed. That the peace of God in everyone reign his people, salt of the earth and light of the world …

GOD bless you and your ministry :) hug paz e amor !!!!!
Meghan

About 8 years ago I went on a vacation to Jamaica. It was a pleasure trip not a mission trip, but I vividly remember the bus ride to the hotel. the houses were so dark even though it was the middle of the day. That is what impacted me the most. There were no doors, no windows, and no lights. I just couldn’t believe in the heat of the Carribean, that the houses could be so dark. I guess it was a combination of a lack of lighting, and paint indoors. It has stayed with me all these years. Everytime I complain about my house, I think about those houses.

Where The Streets Have No Name….

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