It has been just over a week since we returned from Jamaica, and it is my turn to write a post for our blog. Liz has been trying to get me to do this for months, but before our trip I told her that I had nothing to say (for those of you who know me, a rare occurrence indeed!). And now I am back in the comfort of my apartment in Boston, staring at my computer, still unsure of what to write. But this time it is not because I have nothing to say. It is because there is so much to say, I just can’t imagine where to start or what words I could use to begin to do justice to our experience.

Becky’s entry (below) really resonated with me, because I too spend my life running from point A to point B, without much time to stop and smell the roses in between. In an academic city like Boston, and in most of the western world, worth and success are measured by efficiency, accomplishments, and intellect. As Christians, we are taught that our worth as people does not come from these worldly things, but from our identity as sons and daughters of God. So why do we still spend so much time adding and checking off items on our “to do” lists, only to check everything off and start another list?

In my own life, I find that the busyness comes from very “noble” causes. Taking food to a friend who is sick. Volunteering at church. Serving on committees. Attending board meetings. We are told that it is our job to help people who are less fortunate, or to help people who cannot help themselves. In many ways, my professional life for the past 9 years has been based around this concept.

Liz, Ryan, Nate, Becky, Silvia and I spent most of our days in Jamaica at the May Pen Infirmary, or as the locals call it, the “Poor House”. The Infirmary is home to 130 adults with physical and cognitive difficulties, most who have been left there by family members who do not want to care for them. The sights, smells, and sounds were so shocking that they will remain in my memory for many years to come.

As any typical group of Americans would, we went in with a plan. We had daily schedules of what our time there would look like, what we would accomplish each day. Not surprisingly, our schedule was scrapped about halfway through our first day. What we found is that more than our services, projects, or plans, the best thing that we could offer the residents of the Infirmary was ourselves. So we walked around. We watched. We waved and said hello. We sat down and chatted. We read scripture aloud. We sang (everything from “Jesus Loves Me” to Bob Marley to Kenny Rogers!). We held hands and touched faces. Most importantly, we listened.

And at the end of the week, though most of the items on our “to do” list had gone unchecked, we realized that we had actually achieved what we set out to accomplish. For a few short days, we had succeeded in being the hands and feet of Jesus to these forgotten people. Because when you look at the Gospel, you find that Jesus did not spend his time planning meetings, serving on committees, or checking off items on his “to do” list. Jesus spent His time just BEING with people. Walking with them, talking with them, listening to them. Seeing, hearing, touching. It was His presence that was the healing balm.


I am reminded of the words of a familiar song from my childhood: “’Tis the gift to be simple, ‘tis the gift to be free.” In His simple presence, Jesus brought freedom. As we enter the Advent season, a time to remember the way the God if the Universe came to earth as a poor and helpless baby, I am overwhelmed by the simplicity. And even more grateful for the freedom.

~ Mary Frances Giles