slum |sləm|
noun. a squalid and overcrowded urban street or district inhabited by very poor people. • a house or building unfit for human habitation
The slums of Moratuwa, Sri Lanka, certainly fit this description. This is not an area fit for human habitation, though thousands of men, women, and children do. It is squalid. It is overcrowded. It is ignored.
It is not a pretty place.
Dirt pathways are swept by fervent moms as their children play amongst the small shanties nestled row on row. Garbage is piled on the beach, next to the lone communal tap. There is a quiet desperation yet an obvious pride found in the people here. They might not have much, but it’s a place to call home.
So what? You know there are poor people in the world. You know there’s slums and poverty and people who need love and care. Why do you need to hear more?
For me, I guess I need to share these stories because we can’t ignore it anymore. We’ve seen and met people whose entire lives could be transformed for a few dollars a day. People who would love their kids to have a chance at life, a chance to grow and become who they were meant to be. We’ve met them, sat in their homes on the best chairs available, which are sometimes chairs we’d find relegated to the trash or the burn pile. We’ve seen the desperation and the fear. But that’s why we care. Why should you care?
I think it’s because God cares. He cares for the sea of unknown and forgotten, the poor and destitute. The Lord cares for these people. These unknown people on the other side of the world. And He knows each and every one of them by name.
Talk to anyone who has recently come back from a missions trip, whether it be for 3 days or 3 months and you’ll most likely start to hear stories about the children. After being out in the field ourselves it’s easy to see why. Language barriers diminish, cultural differences seem unimportant and the prospect of a bright future shines through.
The view from a 10×10 shack, someone’s home here in the slums of Moratuwa, Sri Lanka.
We found ourselves waiting in a seemingly endless immigration line in Colombo, Sri Lanka, exactly 24 hours after we left our accommodations in Kenya.
While staying at
It’s been over a month since the quake but Haiti is still on all of our minds. This photo was taken after exiting the public market in Mirebalais. We made our way through the crowd, passing by the charcoal vendors . The road suddenly ends and opens up to an expanse of green.
Given that my last post was about rights and luxuries, this probably seems like a complete about-face. It probably seems that way because it is. Today, I’m filled with sadness, longing, desire. Lust.