DIRTY HANDS

He saw that something was wrong.

He knew that justice was not being served.

He knew that he was the one who decided if this man should die.

He had the potential to sway the crowd.

He could have saved this man.

But “he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, ‘I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.'” (Matthew 27:24b)

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LET IT HURT

[DOMINICAN REPUBLIC    thoughts from 12/2/16]

*Disclaimer: this is about a heavy subject. If you need to be light-hearted today, it may be best to read this another time.*

*also, this picture is not from the dump. We weren’t allowed to take pictures there. It’s actually a picture of the beauty of the area surrounding the dump.

The dump.

In America, it’s the stinky place you take your trash (or have someone hired to take it for you) and wash your hands as soon as you get home because…germs.

In Dominican Republic, it’s the place probably a hundred people live, per dump. The people are mostly refugees that are there illegally. Somehow, they ended up in the Dominican with no way to get back home, probably a result of the numerous natural disasters that have repeatedly beaten those two countries. The disasters could have caused them to run to the DR, leaving everything behind, hoping they would find a better life-only to end up in a dump.

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LAS CALLES

[DOMINICAN REPUBLIC     thoughts from 12/3/16]

*disclaimer: this content is a heavy subject. If you need to be light-hearted today, it may be best to read this another time.*

Las calles. The streets.

You don’t visit a vast majority of the cities in Dominican Republic unless you are wanting to buy drugs, sex or alcohol. All of which overwhelm the streets.

It was six in the evening. We stepped out onto the streets to do a prayer walk. I’m not going to lie to you, we were afraid. Not only are we a large group of mostly white women, but we were walking straight out into the devil’s territory.

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