It has been raining almost constantly for the last four days, so I have spent a lot of time in the house. No one went to work today- the streets were flowing with water, children splashing and having races down the gutters with GI Joe toys in makeshift boats- styrofoam trays or the bottoms of used milk jugs. It is finally cool here in the barrio, and sleep comes easily.

We just finished saying goodbye to a medical team from Puerto Rico. They ran a clinic in the El Camino Church/ TEARS School for three days, serving countless people and bringing hope to families. It was really a blessing; I was encouraged to see their Christ-like love and compassion for those they attended to. I always find it difficult to part with short term teams- just as you begin building relationships, it’s time to go.

I seem to have fallen into a very troublesome and sad story here in Dudo’s house. There is a lot of sorrow and silent desperation that is not at first apparent when you walk in the front door. Dominicans value being social, hospitable and happy so much that they have learned to hide their true emotions quite well. Amparo, one of Dudo’s sisters, has been deeply hurt and disappointed in her life. At age thirty she has been married to six men- one of whom has now passed away- and has six children, none of whom she is currently caring for, due partly to financial difficulties and partly to a profound lack of pity- doubtless the result of an abusive upbringing. Perhaps she constantly heard things like: “you’re a mistake” or “you have no potential” or “you’re too ignorant to learn”, because this is what she now says to her own children, four of whom live with me.

Amparo paid us a visit for a few days, and it was difficult to witness the tension it caused everyone in the family. She is uneducated, and for this reason has next to no job opportunities. For a while was trying to sell balls of yucca, but she was cheated several times by various managers. She now works in the street, selling her body, and gets taken advantage of in a much more terrible ways. Her main concern is money- you may say she has made it her god. She is constantly talking about who didn’t pay her and how much certain things cost and how she won’t be able to pay for this and how essential and central money is to joy and fulfillment. Yet it is heart-breaking to see where this has taken her. I felt tears well up in my eyes as I saw her carefully putting on makeup one night, preparing to go out into the streets. I wish I could just give her enough financial support to go back to college, but that is a very Canadian reaction. The real situation is much more complex than that; only Jesus knows the degree to which this must be true.

Such hurt has brought Amparo to a place of bitterness and contempt. She often says: “there is no such thing as real love” and “all men are liars.” I suppose such phrases are common enough, but she says them with a cynicism and assurance that would be hard to match. I feel great compassion for her children, who have been negatively impacted by all this- almost irretrievably so, I am afraid. Yet with God, all things are possible. It is my prayer that he will bring restoration to this family. I ask that you make this your prayer as well.