Living In A Pig Pen

 Remember the story of the prodigal son.  The son that asked his father for his inheritance and then squandered it on riotous living.  When the money was gone, he found himself living in a pig pen with the pigs.  No one wants to live with the pigs.  Pigs are dirty.  But somehow I always think, in the case of the prodigal son, it was more or less of his own making.

A couple of weeks ago, while the Childress and Baton Rouge groups were here, there was a clinic in Guamaca.  As the medical needs of hundreds were being attended to,  it was discovered that a lady who worked with pigs had had her house burn to the ground.  With no house, and very few belongings, she had no choice to live in the pig pen with the pigs.  I just can't imagine.  Our groups were only working in Guamaca that one day.  But Marc knew Bobby Moore and company would soon be coming to Campamento, a short distance from Guamaca.  On the spot, Marc called Bobby and asked him if his group could build a house for this lady.  And Bobby said of course we can.

This is the lady who was living in the pig pen.

Behind is a blue tarp and under that tarp is all the worldly possessions she owns.  She and a family of four.

Last week a new house was built for this lady.  Praise God, she is no longer living in the pig pen.  In addition, new beds were purchased for her and her family.  And a bicycle so she would have some transportation.

I love this story.  Not that she was living in a pig pen, but that she no longer lives in one.

Terri