Feliz Navidad! Christmas on the Streets was a success, and I must say that there are no words right now to describe what I saw, what I felt. It makes me remember when Jesus wept over Jerusalem saying "if you really knew the peace you could have, but you have hardened your hearts and chosen your own ways" (paraphrased). I am positive that He is weeping over the street people of Santa Cruz. As I had to stop myself from doing right there in front of them. Do they realize? Do they understand? There is peace! There is freedom! But they have hardened themselves from the thing they truly want.
After 36 hours of working through the night with no breaks, we were all tired, but anticipating the day ahead of us. I climbed into the car with Marco (Corina's husband), and three more men. I knew that this day would change me, but I really couldn't have prepared myself for what I saw. We drove quite a ways, then stopped by a few boys who made money guarding parked cars. Slowly, they all gathered behind our car and we handed them a meal of rice, meat, a platino (sort of like a roasted banana) and potatoes, along with some juice and gift bag of a small gift (probably the only gift they received for Christmas) and two little booklets. One was a tract explaining the gospel and the other a short comic, also explaining the gospel. They ate and thanked us profusly then continued on their way. At that point I just stood there praying over each one of them. That their hearts would be moved and that they would take seriously the gospel that was presented to them. We then continued on and turned down a dirt road. There was a layer of garbage covering the road and street dogs poking through it, searching for their next meal. We then pulled up to an overgrown field. Upon looking closer I noticed that there were small homes made of tarps propped up by sticks. There were about 5 of them. A small older lady came down the road then. They called her 'China' (pronounced cheena). She was literally skin and bones, with very little to wear.
After that we continued on down the road until we saw a small carved out opening in the huge cement wall. Noticing a couple people in there, Marco stuck his head in and called them to come out, for there was food here. Slowly and cautiously a couple of men came out and took our food and gift quietly, but with much gratitude. Then, as they returned into the hole, 3 or 4 more men came out and did likewise, thanking us they went back through the hole. Then, a lady with mated hair and a dirty face popped her head out and looked at us. She held up the tract that she had gotten from one of the men and said, "Can I have a bag? I want one of my own of these things." I gladly gave her a bag as well as a meal. But that right there gave me hope. One lady, who was drawn to the truth. One lady, who may influence others to be drawn to it as well. After that, another 10 or 20 men and women came out of the hole and accepted our gifts. We told them to thank God rather than us because it is only by the grace of God that this food and gift was here in front of them. And it was only by the calling of God that we brought it to them. At that moment, a man emerged from a large metal crate across the street. He had a machete in his hand and was screaming and yelling angry words. At first, I couldn't tell whom he was directing them at. Then I saw a man walking down the road carrying a dirty bucket. The man turned and started yelling back as he was walking towards the hole (which he obviously called home as well). Then other man came closer and passed by us (thankfully in his anger and drug intake he had not noticed us yet). He tried to enter the hole with his machete, but the other men held him back. It was there home and their friend that they were protecting. Dogs ran to attack us then, but someone threw a couple rocks at them and they scampered away with their tails between their legs. The man with the bucket then emerged and gave the bucket to the man with the machete (it seems that the fight was over the bucket that was taken from the other man). That didn't stop the yelling though. The guy with the machete seemed to notice us then and yelled at the man even more. "Why are you yelling at me in front of all these people!", so they went back into the crate. A couple minutes later the man came out, still holding his machete. A couple of kids driving a horse drawn cart had stopped by and were eating with the rest of us, stopped on the side of the road. So the man with the machete went to a horse and said, "I need to cut something, can I cut off your horses head? Or can you kill that man?" I had to remind myself to stay calm at that one. I trusted the boys not to go kill the other man, but I was quite sure that if he was given permission the man would cut off the innocent horse's head.
After we left that place, we went out a little farther out of town. We came across a group of tarp huts. There were about thirty people living there. Seeing us, they crossed a large trench. They were really happy to see us. A couple of them were friends of Marco's from his past. We all got introduced and we gave them their meals and refreshments. Then we told them that if they wanted to take home some juice in a bottle or something that was ok. They excitedly agreed and went to back to their houses. A couple minutes later, they came back carrying buckets! After most of them had eaten and gone back, a man stayed behind. He was a big, tough looking older man. He started to tell us a little about himself and tried to hold back his tears, but they just rolled down his face. He said that he wanted so much to better his life, but it was so hard. It was so hard to live like he did, and its so hard to move up. It was so hard to watch a grown man cry out of desperation. I had to hold back my own tears. As we were leaving, I looked back and they had gathered together. They then shouted a united "GRACIAS!".

TO BE CONTINUED....