Mission Peru

by Kyle McKelvey, Intern at Inca Link

“God bless you, Kyle.” These are the words that ring in my ears even now, and I still see vividly the tear-filled eyes of my brother who spoke them over me. It’s not every day that God chooses to break us, but I don’t remember a time when I’ve wept like I did last night after that big double-decker bus pulled away. “God bless you, Kyle…”

Right now I’m sitting all alone in an empty house, beds made, a bare floor swept of obvious traces of life, and I can easily hear the birds outside the window, unchallenged by the squeak of a wheel barrow or the roar of a concrete mixer. Life goes on at the Albergue – this looks like the continued faithfulness of a few nationals to be in the garbage dump week after week, with snack and craft in hand; it may look like the celebrated presence of puppies that, granted, won’t be puppies for long; or it may just be the steady creeping progress of a wall that will one day (sooner than later) stand high and strong in a world marked by rubble. The fact is this: that God is as he was and always will be, and he will continue to do the work he started at the foundation of the universe. But me? I cannot stand on what I was a week ago – half-hearted, discontented, and most importantly, something less than what I’m called to be. When God does a sanctifying work on your life, you cannot, must not turn again to what you were. This week, by his ever-sufficient grace, I experienced yet another chapter of God’s faithful intervention to steer me truer, straighter, stronger in pursuit of the Kingdom of Heaven, and in intimacy with The Holy Spirit and his people, I won’t look back.

I don’t know what Canada was to me before this week, but in all honesty it

probably wasn’t a second thought, good or bad. But today when I think of Canada, I think of 42 self-sacrificing gringos, 42 blessings, and 42 instruments of God in my life and in the world here and at home. I think of community as it ought to be, I hear the powerful words of three mentors, and I think of what it means to be unified in spirit. I smile at the images of sprained fingers, scorpion stings, late night scrambled eggs, passionate fútbol, and an amazingly hot pepper, and I try my best to retain the faces that became dear to me so quickly. At first glance I saw a boy carrying a bag of concrete, a lady with a bad knee, and girls praying in the garbage; when I looked again, I saw Jesus carrying his cross, giving glory to The Father on top of the mountain, and washing the feet of those he loved most.

I think of the words in Phillippians (1:3-11) and certainly echo Paul’s sentiment in my heart. You are my partners in the Gospel. He has started a good work in you and will certainly bring it to completion. You have my affection. And this is my prayer: that you would be able to love better. That you would be made holy. And that you would continue to be filled with the Fruit of righteousness that you’ve had a taste of, to the glory and praise of God forever and ever.

Friends, I’m proud of you. Don’t look back! Pursue Him fervently. Run with perseverance. Don’t settle for complacency. Serve bigger. Pray for one another! Fix your eyes on Jesus. Endure hardship as discipline and embrace times of encouragement. Have faith. Keep hope. And may you always, always be the love of Jesus in a world dark with doubt and thirsty for something real. Go.  

“God bless you, Kyle.” He has. He answered about 10 days in advance and I am forever thankful. I love you all. Go with Him, eh?

With peace,

Kyle McKelvey

P.S. Graham, pretty sure that God’s already booked Consuelo for the first couple days in heaven, just FYI.