I feel a tugging on my scrub pants. And another on the back of my t-shirt. My left hand is pulled, dragging me one way, while I hold another toddler on my right hip. Words and phrases are shouted around me, very few of which I understand, due to their being in Spanish and my lack of fluency. The air is saturated with water, it will storm later, but more potent are the laughs it is also filled with. The stench of the livestock nearby is contested only by the odor of the landfill a mile down the road. I can barely see five feet in front of me due to the dirt cloud that’s formed from the makeshift futbol game going on. A girl runs up to me and points at her fingers, she wants me to paint her nails- for the seventh time this week. As I paint, she begins humming the worship songs we sang that morning. Sweat beads start forming on my forehead. My shoulders sting of sunburn. My stomach grumbles, in need of something other than rice, beans, and tortillas. But I am content. No, I am more than content; I am overwhelmed and overflowing with the joy that comes from being Christ’s hands and feet.

The breathtaking backdrop of my scene is the village of Sumpango, a small Mayan community about an hour outside of Guatemala City. On the surface, Sumpango looks like a city in despair. Families lack homes. Few children are in school; instead they work the fields in order to support their family. Witchcraft is pervasive, with a majority of the population believing in its powers. Wild animals run rampant. The local landfill is overflowing, the trash overtaking the city streets. Alcohol is cheaper to buy than water, so obviously alcoholism cripples the town, with countless families falling victim to its wrath. Husbands beat their wives and children, or desert them, leaving them alone and moneyless. On all accounts, Sumpango should be one of the most depressing, disgusting, and destitute places on the globe. But somehow, it is not. Somehow it is lively and energizing. It is vibrant and encouraging. Its people are hospitable, kind, and humorous. Its streets give off a welcoming vibe. Its members invite strangers into their homes for coffee and conversation. Somehow, Sumpango is beautiful.

That beauty comes from none other than Christ. Among the hopelessness, the lack of resources, and the despair, the people of Sumpango have learned something so many of us struggle to grasp, they have learned that Christ is all they truly need. The people have learned to rely on him to fulfill all their needs. They may not have food for dinner. They may not know where their husband has disappeared to. They may not have four walls to protect them from the storm outside. But they know God. They know God better than I do, and they know they are God’s people. So they are filled with a joy that only comes from Him. They are filled with a gratitude that only comes from him. They are overwhelming appreciative of just someone sitting with and listening to them. They are eager to have people to pray with. They are determined their children come to know Christ. They are filled with God’s love. The people of Sumpango are beautiful because of Christ. And Sumpango is beautiful because of its people.