We all have them.
Sometimes they’re in the back of the closet.
Sometimes they’re in a container of some kind, stuffed away.
Forgotten about.
Until you’re looking for something else, something of value, and you happen upon them.
And even then, you typically push aside the less valuable to obtain the more valuable.
Shove the old shoes to the back of the closet.
And forget about them again.

Welcome to the world of the boys of Eliza Martinez.
They are, truly, the least of “the least of these.”
Just like old shoes, they are shoved in a box and put away, hoping they’ll stay out of the way, quiet.

Which is why I simply can’t get them off my mind.
They are the unlovable, unloved detritus of Guatemalan society.
Boys with mental issues, emotional issues, physical issues, and everything else you can think of.

While we were visiting Eliza Martinez, Horaldo became unnerved to the point that he began to cry and wield a rock like a weapon.
Horaldo has some problems with his mind.
But I also saw his episode as Guatemala’s leftovers rising up to be heard.
Believe me, when I saw the rock in his hand, he had my full attention.
And it made me ask the question..
When’s the last time we stood up with a rock in our hand to tell the world about places like Eliza Martinez?
Because I’m quite confident that, if Jesus were flesh and blood today, He would be standing with a rock in his hand, saying…
”What you are not doing for them, you’re not doing for me.”
And I just can’t sit idly by knowing the forgotten have no voice.
Because, you see, even if we don’t do something…
the rocks will cry out.