This past Thursday we went to visit two of our friends. We (Word Made Flesh) met Linsey and Pedro when they lived on the street. They and their three children now live with her (Linsey's) brother, his family, and her mother in two small shacks built on the side of a steep hill in one of the poorest districts in Lima.

The visit was surreal. As we entered their barrio (neighborhood), I felt as though I had been instantly transported out of the mega-city in which I live into a rural village several miles outside of Lima. But as I looked behind me I could see the concrete memorial testifying to the progress of a city offering every amenity that one's heart could desire. This was still Lima. The contrast, unimpeded by space or time, was disorientating.

The following pictures illustrate, however poorly, what my eyes took in on my bus ride and short walk to my friends' home.

Mira Flores - one of the wealthier districts of Lima.

Lima is divided into districts. The nicer districts look much like a prosperous U.S. city.

Then I arrived at the district in which my friends live.

We arrived at these stairs after walking up a dirt road and a short, but steep, dirt path that cut between several homes.

This is where my friends live. This humble dwelling is home to my friends, their three children, and her mother. Her brother, who owns the homes and land, lives with his family in the house directly behind the first one (pictured below).

My friend, Miguel (Linsey's and Pedro's son), is holding one of seven puppies who now share this space with him.

Linsey with her two and half month old baby boy (Que lindo! - How cute!).

Despite the difficulty of adjusting to the contrast between Lima as many people experience it and the Lima my friends know, once I entered their humble dwelling I felt at home. My time in their house was far more beautiful and inviting than the concrete jungle that I spent an hour traversing. My friends, who don't have much to spare, fixed us a huge lunch, handing us plates spilling over with rice and tuna. We spent hours together, basking in God's presence as we recounted the stories of His love for us.

The writer of Psalm 73 struggled with the contrast of the wealthy and the needy. More specifically, he wrestled with the apparent comfort and wealth of the wicked as compared to the suffering and poverty of the humble and faithful. The injustice of it was enough to make him want to throw in the towel, to reject God and pursue wealth and comfort. The psalmist writes, "Surely in vain have I kept my heart pure; in vain have I washed my hands in innocence. All day long I have been plagued; I have been punished every morning." (vv. 13-14)

Then the psalmist entered God's presence. He writes, "When I tried to understand all this, it was oppressive to me, till I entered the sanctuary of God..." (vv. 16-17, emphasis mine) The worth of worldly riches faded away in the presence of the One from whom all value flows. Some of my most favorite verses in all of Scripture come from the hand of a man who once envied the rich. But in his relationship with God, Asaph finds wealth that far surpasses the value of any created thing.

Yet I am always with you;

you hold me by my right hand.

You guide me with your counsel,

and afterward you will take me into glory.

Whom have I in heaven but you?

And earth has nothing I desire besides you.

My flesh and my heart may fail,

but God is the strength of my heart

and my portion forever. (vv.23-26)

May we all experience the brokenness that led Asaph to such a profound place of worship!