We are all the same

People are people no matter where you go, no matter what you do. Nationality, race, language, they all become trivial when compared to our humanity. This is a generalization and I use it presently in reference to the church.

Every church has certain types of people. There are the committed ones. These are the first people to show up for anything and everything as well as the last to leave. They are the first to volunteer their time and the last to betray the rest. They give of themselves out of a love for Christ and His Body.

Then there are the benchwarmers. People who show up to church because its the thing to do. They don't really get to know anyone and no one really knows them. They feel good about contributing their presence on Sundays and even drop a few bucks in the offering plate as it passes by. They are contentedly complacent.

There are also the disgruntled. People who are openly unhappy about everything that is said and done in the church, but since there is something wrong with every church, they've decided to stick it out in yours because they'd feel guilty if they left the church altogether.

There are part-timers. People who show up only when they begin to feel guilty about skipping out for a few too many weeks. They'll show up for a week or two, make a couple of generous contributions and when they've eased their troubled hearts, you won't see them for a while.

Sadly, there are also wolves. These are people who appear to be committed, but are actually any of the above in disguise. You won't see them openly complain, they will attend most functions and get involved more than the average member. But in the end, it's the petty things that give them away. One disagreement too many and they're out the door before the second phrase of Amazing Grace.

Oh, that all Christians could be of the committed variety, but we're not. We hurt, we talk, we put on a show and, in the end, the truly committed are few and far between, left to console each other and everyone else in the aftermath when the wolves are brought to light.

The Church hurts in North America. It hurts in China, in Egypt and here, in Peru. All I ask is for prayer for the ministry here. For people who have been hurtn for strength, for wisdom and for peace that passes understanding for evey person involved.
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A slower way of life...

Life in South America cannot even compare to our lives in the North. While life here may appear fast-paced, there is a leniency that does not exist in our North Western culture. If you say you will meet someone at 4:00, its not uncommon to be nearly an hour late. This is not a lie, but merely a different understanding of the concept of time. You get to something when you get to it. If it doesn't get done, there's always tomorrow or the day after. People here do not seem to be put out by tardiness.. They just go with the flow. Even the river here seems to flow a little slower than the one back at home. While the current is just as strong, the pace sets it apart.

The people of this amazing Southern culture are quick to forgive as well as to love. I cannot count how many sweaty cheeks I have kissed, how many damp shoulders I've embraced or how many clammy hands I've shaken. I've greeted many a stanger with a smile and many friends with hugs. I like to say that a personal bubble one may have in North America will pop the moment one lands in Iquitos.

I love this country, this city, this culture, these people.