my unsettled soul

It's been a tough week in my spirit. I returned Sunday night from a four-day trip with a ministry team from our church. We were in eastern Arizona, serving on the San Carlos Apache Reservation. This trip always hits me differently than others. We had a great time (21 of us in all) working with the Arizona Reservation Ministry, and coming alongside them as they pour themselves out for the Apache people. We assisted in the construction of homes on the reservation, played with kids, and tried to make connections with those around us. The experience is always a positive one, and is of great value. But it always leaves me unsettled and bothered. Maybe more than anywhere else I go.

The level of despair and hopelessness that exists in this location is beyond measure. It's difficult to describe the intensity of the factors that block the way of any person, young or old, succeeding here. Unemployment on the reservation stands at more than 75%. More than half the homes have no running water or electricity. Alcohol consumption is rampant, as are drug usage and dealing (meth and coke being the preferred choices). Gangs are so prevalent (Bloods and Crips- can you believe it?!) that everyone, youth and adult alike, are afraid for their safety. When the sun sets, everyone retreats inside. It's not safe to be out.

There's little or no hope in young people's hearts for their futures. One of greatest cultural influencers is MTV. Many of the young people emulate what they see there, almost none of it positive. Abuse in all forms is high, and little of substance is done about it. It's as if invisible bars exist on the borders of the land, restraining those within, and withstanding those without. With the exception of Haiti, there may be less hope here than anywhere else I have been- and that includes the slums of Nairobi, Mexico City and Manila.

Each time I visit San Carlos, my heart is ripped out a little more. I don't have a lot of answers- just a mixed bag of feelings, emotions and frustrations. How we allow such despair in our own land- and especially toward those we've historically treated so poorly to begin with- boggles my mind and makes my heart scream. But why do we expect our government to fix things? Didn't it actually create so much of this? I'm convinced that change will only happen when we- people like you and me- take it upon ourselves to do something about it. And until we do, the San Carlos Apache, and countless others like them, will continue down a ragged road of hopelessness and destruction. But does it really matter to us?

If you just knew some of the people at San Carlos, you'd know that it should.