Nathan served as the
team leader for the Caroline's Promise - NC West Youth Team. He has served many years at Providence Wesleyan Church in High
Point, NC. While he is called to serve as the youth and young adult pastor, he
has also stepped up to the plate to be a presence in his community as a teacher in his local public school. God is using him in both venues to reach the lost and disciple those who are found. God has also now added Guyana to
his
ministry focus and he has wasted no time in creating sea glass jewelry and selling necklaces to benefit the ministry in Guyana. He shares his thoughts about his experience with us:
ministry focus and he has wasted no time in creating sea glass jewelry and selling necklaces to benefit the ministry in Guyana. He shares his thoughts about his experience with us:
"I have been emotionally and spiritually deflated since I gave hugs
and waved goodbye to the 6 PAL leaders on a red dirt road, just down from the
bustling intersection known as "The Junction" in Vreed en Hoop. Before parting
ways, I told the 10-15 year old leaders over and over, "I am proud of you."
Since my return to life in the furniture capital of the world, I cannot say the
same for myself. Its not that I believe a trip to Plastic City would instantly
turn me into a super Christian, or make me sell
everything and move the McMurphy 6 to PCJ, but it seems like something should
be different. When I look at things here, my grass is still overgrown (no
machetes, just a push mower that needs some pushing), my kids still get tired
and cry loudly anytime I'm on the phone or in an "important" conversation, my
mini van still might need $1000 of work on it (that's $205,000 Guyanese
dollars), I still eat way to much Double Dunker ice cream in one sitting, and I
still have bills to pay, errands to run, and a presentation to plan on standard-mode-of-dress when I return to the middle school in a week (tuck in you
shirttails).
If everything still seems the same, then what might be different?
It has to be something in me. I feel like I am trying to connect my experience
in Guyana with life at home and go about the difficult task of drawing
important lessons from the fusion of the two. When I hug my kids, I am also
hugging the PAL kids. When I read my son a story about Darth making things
right with his son Luke, I am also reading about the pauper, Tom, making things
right with the prince. It reminds me that good can prevail, we want it to
prevail, but we can't make it prevail on our own. There has to be a "force"
that is with us that will never leave us nor forsake us; one that will see
injustice, and bring a reckoning, so that the good people that have had bad
things happen to them can one day have good things happen to them and then live
happily ever after.
Since our team's return late Sunday night, I constantly ask myself, "How can I make these wrongs right?"; "What can I learn from this?"; or"?How
can I be different?"
Part of me says, "But if I am like I've been after any life
changing event, the impact will wear off." I will fire up the ole "Routine
Machine" so I can get back to paying the bills. Yet before I re-enter the
monotony of the daily grind once again, I will pause and spend time reflecting
on the perspective I gained while in Guyana.
Upon initial review, I move to metaphors to help develop my
thoughts. While life in High Point is like seeing with rose colored glasses,
where $25,000 (US) armoires line endless furniture showrooms flaunting
excessive-ness that people don't really need, Plastic city is like seeing
through a single piece of sea glass left over from years of destructive habits.
While the rose colored glasses say Gucci or Ray Ban on the side and cost a
month's wages in Guyanese dollars, the status symbol frames come with built in
blinders making it nearly impossible to see the marginalized who are in plain
sight. Conversely, the piece of sea glass, while scored and dimmed with age,
sheds a glimpse of light on the greatest needs of a forgotten people.
Meeting poverty face to face on the Jetty was disturbing, and
seeing it made my mind jump to quick-fix solutions. It was like I tried to make
their reality more palatable for my brain if I could just come up with several
options for them to make it out of PC. Twelve total hours spent in Plastic City
will not make me the expert on what should happen to the people there. I would
definitely go to the "easy button" on this one if I could, but there are no easy
answers for this type of poverty (generational, cyclical). This, combined with
some honest and at times angry, struggles from a fellow "fixer friend", along
with a well-timed devotional challenge from James 2, to put my faith to work,
made my brain shriek at the thought of leaving PC the same as I found it.
Joining the work that God is doing in Plastic City was difficult,
rewarding, spiritual, awkward at times, fun, maddening, and most important
binding. It was like falling in love and getting married in a single week. This
type of ministry is not something you leave behind. It is not another spiritual
experience with the impact slowly wearing off. You can't drown out the "Sir
please Sir" and "Ms. yes Ms." with the deafening drone of the ever-churning
Routine Machine. These voices must be heard. As my teammate and friend said
upon reflection on the trip, "I must become the voice for the voiceless." We
can't be silent. I can't be silent. So I will toss the rose colored glasses in favor of sea glass or "see" glass,
and let the ache in my heart drive me to action, starting here in Furnitureland
USA, yet all the while with the ends of the Earth in sight, PCJ and beyond."