The Bronx (Part 1)

My time in Medellin, Colombia has been absolutely amazing! Working with Ciudad Refugio has been challenging, encouraging, and everything in between. We’ve had the opportunity to help out with so many different projects and they’ve all been incredible. The highlight of my month, however, has been the Bronx Ministry.

The Bronx is one of the biggest hot spots for drug trafficking, homelessness, and prostitution in Medellin. Day and night the streets are lined with people struggling with addiction. Any drug you can imagine is used openly as trash piles are searched for food and traffic weaves around groups of people huddled together on the street. Armed with bread rolls, hot sugar water, and pamphlets about the foundation, several dozen employees, youth, and volunteers head out every Wednesday night to minister to this area. During our first week here, my team got to go join them.

Before we even left the foundation, Rebekah, our host, gathered us together for prayer and preparation. We all knew that this would be one of the most overwhelming and challenging things we had ever done, but I was excited. I felt my heart expanding for these people that I hadn’t even met yet and I was ready to get out there. Rebekah explained that we would have two options: walk around to talk with people or stay on the line to hand out the bread and water. I knew that walking around would be a bigger challenge for me, so I prepared myself for that.

After some prayer and worship, we crammed 17 people into the back of one of the foundation’s trucks and took off. After a 15-minute drive that should have ended with some dislocated limbs but thankfully didn’t, we spilled out into the street. I took in my surroundings carefully and slowly while some of the veteran volunteers unloaded the bread and water. It was sensory overload. Shrill whistles went off periodically; smoke and smells filled the air. A woman approached us asking for money and we began to attract a crowd. By now, Agua Panela had become a regular Wednesday night event, so people quickly began forming a line and talking to regulars they recognized. A former doctor introduced himself to me and began sharing his story with broken English and an enormous smile.

Ciudad Refugio makes sure that all the volunteers wear these spiffy vests. It helps keep track of everyone and has actually become a sort of symbol of hope in the Bronx.

As Rebekah asked us who wanted to walk around, I opened my mouth to volunteer when I felt God tell me to stay. Wait, what? Don’t you want me to challenge myself? I asked. He simply answered with, I want you to stay. Feeling slightly sheepish I made my way to the bread line. I felt like I was taking the easy way out and not fully embracing the situation I was in. Nevertheless, I grabbed a bag and got ready to hand out the bread rolls.

The first man stepped up. I made a point of looking him in the eyes deliberately handing him the bread roll, and wishing him a good night before he moved on to get his cup of sugar water. I knew that I wouldn’t have time for an actual conversation with anyone, but I wanted to make the most of every interaction. I wanted to make each person understand that they were seen and important, despite their circumstances. It was the only way that I could convey God’s love even a little. I repeated this little process with each person that came through the line and about half an hour in, I started getting really overwhelmed. The reality of the situation sunk in. It hit me just how many people lived here in the Bronx and struggled with addiction and illnesses. And this was just one neighborhood of hundreds of thousands around the globe.

I really didn’t want to make their lives harder by handing them soggy, cried on bread, so I bit back my tears and started praying for strength to finish the night without loosing my head. I focused on the beautiful worship music that the band was playing and kept on going. After running out of water and then bread, we circled up to pray before heading back to the foundation. We had been in the Bronx for around two hours, but I could have spent the entire night there. I stayed silent during the ride back as I tried to process everything I had seen and felt.

Here’s one of the volunteers pouring sugar water into a cup.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this emotional while doing ministry. I have a hard time actually putting into words just how much the Bronx touched my heart. The entire time I was there, I felt an incredible sense of peace and belonging. I knew that it was exactly where I needed to be, and I also felt incredibly drawn to come back. Never once did I feel uneasy or afraid. I was never overwhelmed by the number of drugs or the injuries or the horrors of the street, just by the desperation that was beyond evident in everyone’s eyes. It was clear that I needed to stay on the line so that I could see the gravity of it all. Overall, my first experience in the Bronx was truly incredible. My second time going, however, was extremely different. Check out my next blog to hear that story.

As always, thanks for reading and praying! I’m finishing up this blog in the Colombian airport as we’re on our way Ecuador. Please be praying for safe travels as well as our hearts as we prepare to start a whole new month of ministry. Also, be sure to keep Ciudad Refugio and the Bronx in your prayers! If you’re interested in learning more about the foundation, you can find them on Instagram and Facebook.

Photo Credit: Ciudad Refugio