Walking in the Dust with Us

For several months now I've been going to youth group at the Wesleyan Church here. It's been a funny experience as I've listened to Creole lessons on the etiquette of hosting or being a guest, and have fumbled through my song book to keep up with their hymns and asking everyone around me which bible passage we're reading.

Most of the time when I go, I don't say anything. I just sit and listen. Every once in a while the pastor will call on me for an answer, to which I almost always respond "M pa konnen." (I don't know). I haven't been what I would consider an avid participant or contributor.

But last month, just before I left for the States, the pastor said something that surprised me. "Thank you Justine for walking in the dust with us." He was referring to the 2 times I've gone to prayer and walked through the dusty streets which I walk through all the time anyway.

I didn't think this was a very big deal until my friend Merline explained it to me. "Sometimes Haitians feel a little bit under everyone else. And it is very rare to have a young missionary who comes to youth group."
(just for the record, Zach attended faithfully while he lived in Anses-a-Galets)
"So when you come and listen and you come and walk in the dust with us, we consider that a great honor."

I'm not sure if I got teary or not, but at the time I was trying to express to my friend what a privilege it was for me to go to youth group. I had seen how accommodating they could be, they'd switch from French to Creole bibles just so I could understand and they'd re-explain things if they knew I was confused. And I honestly felt like more of a burden than a blessing. But apparently God was doing something I couldn't see.

I've been wondering if Jesus felt the same way when he came to walk in the dust with us. I've been thinking a lot about his life and how he literally left heaven to come live amongst us. What an awesome sacrifice!!

Over Christmas, when I was living with all the privileges of the US (hot showers, Starbucks, paved roads, and English worship), I found myself resenting the sacrifices God's been asking me to make in Haiti. If other people can live with this stuff, why can't I?

Then, through the prayer of a friend, God brought my mind back to the truth of his sacrifice. Not just that he died, but that he lived here, among us. He left the golden streets to walk in the dust with us! What an honor. And what a challenge.