I woke up early Sunday morning to head to Atlanta. There was no late-morning brunch or sleeping in for me. It was actually still dark and chilly out when I woke up and got ready, which I think is a crime on the weekends. But I walked out the door by 6:15am, cup of coffee in hands.
As we started to head to the Atlanta airport, a beautiful sunrise was just beginning to peak over the curve of the earth, glaring in our eyes. We picked up an Ecuadorian man whom I had never met before. I swapped him for the backseat and listened as he started sharing about the destruction of the recent earthquake in Ecuador.
We journeyed our way through Atlanta, and I felt a sensation of euphoria in a dreamland. I noticed how much I miss the way a city feels. I love the sights, sounds, and energy that comes with it. The coffee shops, the street corners, the stoplights. As we mazed our way through, I couldn’t take my eyes off the big buildings that were staring down at me.
We wandered around Atlanta looking for a place to eat breakfast. We found a restaurant with a giant coffee mug mural painted on the side of it, so clearly, we had found the perfect one for me. The waitress brought me coffee in a mug that was actually more like a bowl. I felt like a Gilmore Girl.
We made a quick pit stop at Target for our Ecuadorian friend. While he would search for a certain razor or deodorant, he would send me on a hunt for shampoo, and I would return with a few options and he would pick the one he wanted. We did the same thing with sunglasses. We crushed that shopping list.
We hurried to a beautiful church that had people will all different shades of skin and unique shapes to their eyes. It was a refreshing change from the small-town Southern Baptist church I’ve been attending. (not throwing shade at all)
After church, we made another quick run to Target, this time we lost our Ecuadorian friend somewhere between the clothes racks and the flat screen TVs.
When we dropped him back off at the airport, and said our goodbyes, he told me that when I come to Ecuador he and his family would take me out to dinner. After that, we picked up one of my new co-workers, whom I also had never met. She was tired from travel, but we talked the entire way. And then we had one of those moments. You know, the ones where someone has a friend that went to the same college as you and they start a sentence with, “this is a shot a dark, but do you know…?” And for all the times that you ask that question and never come up winning, this was like hitting jackpot at the lottery. We bonded over the awesome mutual family that we know.
On our way back to sweet, little Gainesville, we stopped to get Mexican ice cream at a spot I’ve been dying to go to. I got a giant scoop of cheesecake ice cream and we sat in the sunshine, enjoying the simple peace of it all.
Throughout the day, our Ecuadorian friend, Oscar, shared about his ministry and what he and his family were doing in Ecuador. While he was talking and as I listened to his stories, I realized that this man that I had spent the day with, was one of the most uncharacteristically generous men I’ve ever met. You see, in Quito, Ecuador, just like any other city, there is a lot of poverty, homelessness, and overall brokeness. And this family, gives away whatever it is that the Lord has blessed them with. Backpacks, medicine, food, encouragement, etc. They just give it away. They don’t run drug-tests, and no one’s talking about taxes here. I couldn’t help but contrast it with what’s happening in America right now. Americans have a poverty mindset. People live like there isn’t enough, and there never will be enough. You can’t give anything away, you can’t be charitable, because there is a potential that with the turn of the economy, stocks, or illness, that you could be the person without. Or maybe, you don’t deserve to receive any help, because you live a life differently than me. So, Americans, clasp with tight fists all the things they have and protect it with everything. Why would you give away what you worked so hard on your own to earn?
This man lives such a different lifestyle, giving what has been given to him. To whom much is given much is required.
