Weekly in our little town in southern Mexico, early on Tuesday, we hear a distant airhorn. The “toot-toot” gets closer until finally it is at our door. It is a good sound: the trash truck! When it comes, we simply run the trash barrel out to the big stinky dump truck, toss the trash up to the guy, tip them a few pesos, and then wash our maggoty barrel.
But a few weeks ago, the trash truck never came. I kept holding on to my trash in hopes that they would come and honk like normal and all would be fine. But no trash truck. For two weeks.
So, I drove the bumpy 10 minutes across the river out to the landfill. When I arrived, there was a big “CLOSED” sign on the gate and guards with big guns. I inquired with the guards who told me that the dump was full, but that there is a new dump-site 20 minutes on down the road. Given the size of the stinky pile of trash in the truck bed, 20 minutes was nothing. As I tooled along, crossing streams and passing cattle herds, I noticed the signs of other civilians taking my same journey. The further I went, the more trash I saw beside the scenic, dirt road. People had gotten more disgruntled the farther they went and finally, they ditched their trash and went home. With no dump in sight, I can’t say I wasn’t tempted.
Our life outside Christ is the same stinky mess. Sin has its own little garbage system; but what do we do when it becomes dysfunctional and unfulfilling? What if the seemingly right place to dump our trash is closed, or too far away?
We three families are living here in Southern Mexico, holding out for the salvation of the Mixtec people group.
Like you and me, they have a lot of sin trash to dump. But where should they dump it? What if they keep coming to closed gates, guns, and frustratingly long roads?
The ancient, relentless spirits of the Mixtecs give little hope. Like the two men laying along the village road the other day – killed in envy by guns. The people shrug and move on. The Roman Catholic Church has methods to help, but it seems like a frustratingly long road with little hope gaining heavenly entrance – except futile hope in the prayers of your descendants. The Spanish culture offers to help, but the gate is closed to their Mixtec language and culture…
There is no way but for them to understand the true God’s love, their own sin, and believe God’s Savior. This is the only, truly open Door for the Mixtec people.
As the Wagoner's labor to translate Bible lessons into Mixtec, as the Hege’s welcome their new baby, and as we learn Spanish – Pray for us to live as examples of Jesus – that Jesus could touch these dear, lost people for an Eternal harvest!