Lessons Learned from the Field #2: Ministry = Dirty : Ecuador

When God first called me into the ministry, we made a deal, I'd do anything He asked, except be a missionary.  I had my reasons, He seemed to understand them so, I said, "Yes!" under that one condition of course.

These are the awesome missionaries The Talleys that we
worked with circa 1995

Later He asked me to go on a mission's trip to Quito, Ecuador. I checked the calendar, it was 1 week out of the 4 weeks I had off for Christmas break that first year of college, so I said, "Yes," yet again.

Once on the field, we were given several options of how we could serve, I honestly don't remember what they all were, but the one I chose was singing on a platform in the middle of the plaza each day. Why? Well,  it surely wasn't because I liked to sing or because I could sing or believed that this would be the most effective way to draw people to the Lord.  Although I wish that I could tell you that ANY of these were my reasoning. The truth is, I figured being on the platform would keep me away from the dirty people and still qualify as ministry.

The plaza was a busy place, small vendors here and there, people crisscrossing it to and from work all day, beggars stationed strategically, and of course the high stage with the gringos singing created a bit of a buzz. After we sang we'd invite people to come forward for prayer. (I volunteered to pray from behind the stage.)  The vendors that worked the plaza selling chicle, diarios, dulces, bebidas, and various tipical artifacts brought their children to work with them each day.  The babies would sleep in the shade of their carts and I'm not sure what the older ones did on a tipical plaza day, but when the gringos were there they played loudly in front of the stage especially during the prayer time.  Since I cowered behind the stage during prayer time one of the leaders saw fit that I corral the children during prayer time.  My plan to stay away from the dirty people had been foiled. Most of them ran back under their mama's skirts when the gringo tried to drag them under the stage, others responded quite well hanging off each of my legs or with my hand covering their mouths. By the last day, I only had one lil rugrat to wrestle.  She was beautiful, albeit dirty! Angelica was about 5 and I can still see her beautiful, big, brown eyes and little baby teeth laughing at me! It was the last day.  She sat in my lap far more still than usual, tears had made tracks in the dirt on her cheeks. I grabbed her up examining her for what might be hurting her and causing the silent tears. What's the matter?! I said more with my eyes and body language than with my Spanish. "I want Jesus in my heart like you," she cried. Below are photos of the little girl that will forever have my heart!


It was then I cried and begged God to send me to the dirtiest places of the world. (I blame Angelica for the last 15 years of my life!)  Oddly enough He took me to the foreign land of youth ministry! But you know what I discovered amongst the foggy haze of residual smoke and teenage body odor?  Ministry is dirty regardless!

You're probably thinking I say this because I've spent time knee deep in compost piles or responding to disasters or out in the middle of Haiti. Nope, that's the kind of dirt I prefer. Ministry is an another level of dirty all together. And I'm not referring to changing diapers in the nursery or Second Saturday outreach days, or driving the church van or that one time you got lice or scabies from the mission's trip.

When you decide to minister (or attend to the needs of others), matters of the heart will have you dressing wounds so deep and so gruesome that you'll long for the days of composting, lice, and smelly teenagers.  When on the other end of the line you hear, "I've been having an affair, we're about to lose our house, I'm addicted to xxanx, my teenager is pregnant, my husband cheated, or I had an abortion." You've just been called to the frontlines, praying from behind the stage is no longer an option, dirt, I mean ministry has just been dumped into your lap. Ministry is dirty, many don't have the stomach for it.

I'm a minister, I have a card to prove it, and people often pat me on the back and say, "I couldn't do what you do on the field," but most days I know you're probably more of a minister than I am. While I'm sweating in a compost pile and sleeping under a mosquito net, you're knee deep in ministry that no one pats you on the back for. I know this is getting lengthy, but I need to share this one last story.

Recently I got to go lay on the beach with some girlfriends. I'm the minister of the group, there's a lawyer, a school teacher, a banker, marketing executive among the group. So naturally when the topics of evangelicals and predestination come up they felt the need to pull my ear buds out so I could weigh in! (Someone PLEASE tell me how these topics come up laying on the beach!?) I fought the urge to tell them, "I'm off duty," and offered them what I knew on the topics at hand.

But later, I realized, I wasn't the real minister of the group. The story of a friend's husband began to unfold. He was drinking way too much. His work and relationships and their finances and pretty much everything was taking a hit with the bottle. Everyone knew it, they could see it. As we heard the story of our friend's friend, we did what probably everyone else in their town had done, shook our heads, and said, "How sad!" Not my friend who doesn't know the definition of Calvinism or Homiletics like I, "the minister," do! She called the friend, she got involved, smack dab in the middle actually.  And it got dirty and messy and was quite unappreciated. I think she was told, "Mind your own business!" in so many colorful words.  She didn't. He got help.  He's sober. Their family is on the mend. I'd like to tell you they all lived happily ever after, but she lost the friendship in the process.  She likely saved their marriage and his life, but she got involved in their dirt and suffered in the process. I'm not sure you can get more like Jesus.

My initial approach to "ministry" was to stay away from the dirty people. I have found no such position available.  I am glad God is patient and that He didn't kick me to the curb during my negotiations.  Ministry is dirty. Life is messy. Humans, sinners and Christians alike, STINK!  Praying behind the stage or the card I carry in my wallet, or speaking a sermon on Sundays does not a minister make.  It's the time spent on the frontlines, carrying the wounded thru the crossfire, going head first into the cess pool of the lives of others. Ministry = Dirty.