Broken Glass
I grew up in an old house. We had more room than we knew what to do with, but we always seemed to fill the space with something; for the Baker family, it was typically another toy for recreation. My grandparents used the space for storage. Living through the depression, they saved everything! Through the years I began to despise junk and would readily dispose of anything that didn’t serve an immediate purpose.
Living in Bolivia sometimes feels like my grandparent’s house. Bolivians save everything, because anything can be fixed. A few weeks ago one of our staff asked me about a broken plate of glass we had been holding in storage. “I think it’s still there,” I replied, learning a few days later the reason for her question.
My friend Maria* recently shared her story with me. Coming from a simple family, she and her mother sold food in the mornings before she headed off to school. Each day Maria would return the pots to the house and change clothes before running to class. One morning Maria’s mother was unable to accompany her home in the taxi. And that day, at a very young age, Maria was raped by a man she trusted.
Almost forty years later, she continues to struggle with her past and the reality of what happened that morning as a child. Most have told her to try and forget what happened, but somewhere in the back of her mind she knows it was the beginning of a long road to prostitution.
It’s been a few years since we began walking with Maria. We often visit her in the brothel where she works and lives. And despite her tragic life, she loves to talk and is full of smiles. We continue to ask the hard questions hoping to help her make sense of it all. Yet I still don’t understand how a person can carry guilt for so long. We also try and encourage her whenever she expresses an interest in leaving her profession. She is illiterate and has very little experience in anything but selling her body.
Recently Maria came to us with a business plan. She shared her dream of selling hot drinks and pastries. To start the business she was saving money to buy a small glass stand to display her goods.
Who would have thought that a few sheets of broken glass would enable a woman to leave prostitution? It has been a long journey, but on June 24 we will celebrate the opening of Maria’s road-side snack stand.
Thinking of Maria and the broken glass I’m reminded of broken or disposable people. They are found all around the globe and often close to all of us. When I read scripture, I find the words of Jesus difficult. His commands aren’t optional if we want to call ourselves followers of Christ. My prayer is that the Lord break us from all that hinders us from following Him and that we might be able to offer hope in a hurting and dying world.
Maria’s story is just one of hundreds. If you feel led to participate with Word Made Flesh Bolivia we invite you to send a donation to our office with a note on a separate piece of paper labeled “Bolivia Ministry Fund.” Many of you have been so generous in your giving and we want to thank you. May God bless you as you seek and serve Him.
All our love,
Andy & Andrea
* Maria’s name has been changed to protect her identity.