Making spirits bright...

Wednesday, Christmas Eve Day was somewhat of a continuation of what we had started the day before but my goodness, what an amazing day we had! That morning, we loaded up the car with the food bags we had made the night before…they were huge and they were heavy. Alongside the food bags, were wrapped gifts which Jim and I had been purchasing for several weeks prior to that day, fruit baskets, and cookie tins...we had more families to bless!

Tom, Nora, Jim and I drove over to the middle of Managua to meet with Miguel for one of his twice weekly language lessons. I had told him the week before we had friends from the States who would be coming to the lesson with us. I had also told him we would take him home that day from his lesson. He wasn’t sure why we wanted to do this but he was very happy to not have to ride for an hour on a hot, crowded, smelly bus so he didn’t question us too much about it.

That morning, Miguel demonstrated his English skills by reading a child’s book out loud to Tom and Nora. He obviously had been practicing all weekend in anticipation of their visit. After a bit of coaxing, he then entered in to a conversation with his new American friends. He would constantly look at me for reassurance of his pronunciation, translation help and periodical pleas to Tom and Nora to speak more slowly. I completely understood how he was feeling…that’s how we now live every day here. He did great! I was so proud of him, I thought I was going to burst! And when Tom and Nora praised his efforts, Miguel beamed.

He also entertained us with his singing and his playing the church’s electric keyboard. He is self-taught, playing by ear. He sang several Nicaraguan songs and then had us join him in singing Open the Eyes of My Heart, Lord and Jingle Bells…both songs he had requested Jim and I teach him earlier. We’re assuming that our off-key attempts at singing fell under the heading of Making a Joyful Noise…

When our lesson time had ended and it was time for us to go, Miguel couldn’t find the keys to lock up the church. He finally admitted he was so nervous to speak in front of the Americans (I wonder what he considers us???) that he couldn’t remember where he had left them. Thankfully, Jim finally found them in the door of one of the Sunday school rooms.

We stopped at Pizza Hut for lunch…a first for Miguel. He had never been to one before and although very impressed by the restaurant itself, he asked the waitress to change the loud, hard driving beat of the Latin music that was playing to “classical music” for his American friends. I realized what he was doing and tried to stop the waitress but evidently, Miguel’s authoritative tone surpassed my butchered Spanish because it wasn’t long until we were dining to Beatle songs…I’m sure Beethoven did roll over with that being classified as “classical music”!

After lunch, we headed to Tipitapa, the community east of Managua where Miguel lives with his family. You can read about his home in a blog I just recently wrote. Upon our arrival at Miguel’s house, his family all came to the door to see what the hoopla was about. We began unloading gifts that I had already purchased and wrapped, along with the giant food sack…gifts and food that many of you have so generously purchased through us. Miguel stood there, speechless. The children’s eyes never left the packages and Elizabeth literally shook with excitement.

Miguel’s mother quickly invited us all inside with one of her daughters mopping the floor before us. As we passed through the house to go out back to sit, I gave Miguel’s mother one of the fruit baskets. I was immediately thanked profusely and given a generous hug and firmly planted kiss. I was beginning to understand just what a treat these simple fruit baskets were…that not only helped justify the cost of them but also helped me to be extremely thankful we had thought to use those as “household” gifts.

We had a package for Kenet, a small Hot Wheels race car track and car and for Liseta, a large, stuffed doll. In this culture, gifts aren’t opened in front of the one who has given the gift. So, we didn’t get to see their faces but we knew they would be happy with new toys of their own. We also had Barbie dolls for Miguel to give to his girls. The other packages were for Miguel and Elizabeth.

Miguel proudly showed Tom and Nora the pelibuey (described with a picture two blogs ago) while Elizabeth quickly pulled me in to her house. Once again her hands were ice cold and she was shaking. I asked her if she was again nervous and she told me she was very excited about all the presents. I had a special “girly” gift of bath soap and body lotion, just for her and she would pick it up and hold it to her ear as she would shake it. I told her to go ahead and open it but she didn’t want to then. She wanted to wait until midnight at their special meal to open their gifts. The wrapped packages added a wonderful festive air to the congested little space and Elizabeth couldn’t take her eyes off of them.

A quick background explanation…a few weeks back, during one of our English lessons, we had the word “dream”. In trying to define the various ways it could be used, I made a chart with two columns in it – one with Jim’s name heading it up and one with Miguel’s. I then asked them to give me two examples of what they would like for Christmas…the first example of something they were pretty sure they would get and the other, something they knew that only a miracle would make happen. I explained to Miguel that was “dreaming”…imagining what something would be like as if it were real. That actually was a fun exercise and served its purpose in defining an abstract concept.

Jim’s Christmas “dream” was for us to spend Christmas with our grandchildren…my eyes teared up with that one. Miguel’s dream was for a “cocina”. When he said that, I had to stop to ask him what he meant as that word in general, means “kitchen”. He explained that a stove top (with only the burners and no oven) is also called a “cocina” and that he and Elizabeth would love to have one of their own so they didn’t have to depend on his mother and sisters for their meals…the outdoor “kitchen” belongs to his mother.

I told him that was a wonderful dream and that it was an important one, as well. I explained that it had to be difficult for both Elizabeth and his mother to share a “kitchen” with the circumstances as they are. He said that there were problems because of that. I told him that all women want to be the head of their own kitchen. He said that when they married, Elizabeth thought she would have her own kitchen but that it hadn’t worked out that way. The seed was planted as to what we might get Miguel and Elizabeth for Christmas…we were going to give a “dream” gift!

Back to Christmas Eve day…Elizabeth hugged me as I explained which gifts were whose. She had me tell her again and again who each present was for and each time I would mention her name and Miguel’s, she would just light up. She was beside herself. It was truly like watching a child tremble with anticipation. It wasn’t that she had an abundance of gifts that brought such joy…it was that she had gifts period. I think I was every bit as excited as she was…maybe more so because I knew what was wrapped in the gold and red papers.

We had found a “cocina” stove top at a very reasonable price for them. Then, I realized they didn’t have any pans of their own to use on the stove. So, naturally, I had to buy two pans that would function to fix chicken or tortillas, rice or beans. But, they were nonstick pans and I knew they wouldn’t have the utensils to cook with…found those at the grocery store in a set of six utensils. But, hmmm….what would they eat on? We had discovered when we had recently visited them that Miguel and Elizabeth had only a few small chipped bowls which they had purchased at the market shortly after they were married. So, guess what I found on sale at a “dollar” type store? Yep! A set of dishes with a very pretty floral pattern. But could they be expected to eat with their fingers? Absolutely not! That’s why we just had to find some tableware and we most certainly did…nothing of extremely great quality but serviceable, at least for awhile. Have I mentioned that I think I have the spiritual gift of shopping???

I knew they would appreciate the gifts and I knew they were things they needed, so it was great fun to find the items and to find them at such reasonable prices. I don’t think Elizabeth’s quivering had anything on my own! I wished I could have been there to have seen their expressions of a dream coming true right before their eyes. I really believe it was one of the best gifts I’ve ever given in all my Christmases.

We all decided it was time for us to go and we got lots of hugs and thank-yous for the yet unopened gifts. Miguel told us at the gate, with tears in his eyes, that it was the best Christmas he had ever had and it was because of his “American friends”. We reminded him God blesses us to bless others…I know Miguel and Elizabeth’s smiles were our blessing that day!

On the way back in to Managua, we stopped by Pastor Sergio’s house…the pastor who is starting the church plant in Rio Blanco. He and his wife were out but his boys were home. I gave them a tin of cookies and a fruit basket and they promised excitedly, that they would give them to their parents upon their return. They thanked us and wished us a Merry Christmas and God’s blessings.

We then headed out to our next stop – Margarita’s. I had already given Margarita her packages the day before as she had seen them under the tree. She received bath powder and lotion, her husband was given a multipurpose pocket knife and her ten-year old son, Freddy, received a small car track, several small cars and a small lego-type vehicle to put together. She was so excited…again, a family that never has exchanged gifts, was overcome with joy at the unexpected blessings they were receiving. She was totally taken by surprise when I called her on our cell phone and asked her to meet us at the road as we had another gift for her.

She was at her mother’s house in a little community close to hers and as we sat waiting in the car for her to appear, we all discussed what it’s like to live as the people in the country here live. Dirt floors are common, no refrigeration, open air fires. A life much different than Cassville. About that time, I saw Freddy, Margarita’s boy, ride up on his bicycle. He grinned and waved and I asked him where his mother was. He pointed down the road. Sure enough, we first saw two dogs loping down the side of the road and then a skinny horse pulling a handmade flat wagon loaded down with women…one of them waving excitedly. It was Margarita.

As Jim opened the back of the car, I asked Freddy if he was strong. He assured me he was. I then asked him to show me his muscle…and like all boys, both big and small, he proudly pulled up his shirt sleeve, flexed his arm and pointed to a neatly formed little mound on his skinny little arm. I smiled, handed him the fruit basket, watched his eyes grow large as he counted the apples in it and then told Margarita that we had a food bag but that it was heavy. She hollered for one of the young teenage girls in the campo area to come and get the bag. We told her it was too heavy and Jim could carry it for her. She grinned as she took it from him and swung it easily to the young girl. The bags had to easily weigh 50 pounds or more…they seemed light to women who do such hard physical labor both day in and day out. Margarita, who is often very serious, was almost giddy when she felt the weight of the bag. It was good for another hug and a very joyous wish for us to have a blessed Christmas Eve. We already were!

On our way to our last stop for the day, our cell phone rang. It was Pastor Sergio. He was so excited and was talking a mile a minute. Finally, he realized I couldn’t understand him with him talking so fast and so he slowed down enough that I understood that he and his family were thrilled with the gift of the fruit basket and cookies. He literally was laughing with joy…and so was I. We wished one another a Merry Christmas and we continued on our way to our final stop which would be our gardener, Freddy’s house.

Again, we had already sent gifts home earlier in the day with him. We had wrapped up another bath and lotion set to give to Mary, Freddy’s wife, a small tool set for Freddy and for 2 year old Gabriel, a pair of shorts and matching shirt with the Cars characters, a truck and car set made for toddlers, and a children’s cup, plate and bowl set with silverware all in a fish shape. When we pulled up in front of Freddy’s house, we asked several men standing outside if he was home. Someone hollered at him and he came out with a worried look on his face. When we told him we had gifts for his family, he looked stunned…we had already given him gifts he hadn’t expected…how could there be more? Once again, the fruit basket was treated as a prized possession.

Freddy gingerly carried it in one hand and effortlessly took the heavy feed bag filled with food from Jim in his other. He thanked us repeatedly and a crowd gathered on the porch of his house as he carried his bounty inside.

We were through. It had been a full day and it was almost dark! We decided to go out to eat at a favorite “fast food” place before going home for the day. One of the young men who works there has been so good to us ever since we first started going there with Susanna before we moved here. He knows a little English but not much and is very encouraging with us as he knows we’re studying Spanish. He always shakes Jim’s hand when we go in and although he wasn’t our waiter that night, he made the effort to come to our table to say hello and to greet Tom and Nora. After we had eaten and paid our bill, as we were getting ready to leave, Jim found him and gave him a little Christmas cash…he was thrilled. And so were we.

I don’t remember ever having so much fun at Christmas before, honestly, not even when buying for my own children or grandchildren. Because of the generosity of others, we were able to make dreams come true, bring surprised smiles of delight to the faces of some precious children, postpone the daily worry of food for a few weeks for three families, spread unexpected joy through the giving of fruit baskets and cookie tins and help ease the burden a missionary couple carries in meeting the food needs for a house full of orphaned and neglected children. Thank you for blessing us so richly our first Christmas in Nicaragua! We pray God multiplies those blessings back to you.

Exercising one of my spiritual gifts...

We had been wondering how it was going to be for us this year, spending Christmas away from our families. Every day is “hard” in that respect…we miss our loved ones so much. Thanks to some friends, Tom and Nora Young, from Cassville, Mo. who came to spend Christmas week with us, it was much better than we had anticipated. They brought 4 action packers filled with things from home, many of which we had requested. We unpacked everything from lamps to pecans, taco seasoning to chip clips, tools to earrings, anMP3 player to bug spray, chocolates to reading glasses. But of all the wonderful things we received, requested and unexpected, for ourselves and for others, in our minds, the most cherished were notes from our grandchildren and their pictures. Those are treasured possessions these days.

I want to tell about Christmas with Tom and Nora. They unselfishly gave up Christmas with their own families in order to come be with us. We let them rest their first day here (Monday, the 22nd), but from that point on, we drug them all over Managua and three directions outside of it!

Tuesday was a full day for all of us. We started out by going to the Children’s Center to bless them with some Christmas cash. Normally, we take diapers and wipes there every month but after speaking a few weeks ago with Chris and Tim Bagwell, who operate the New Life Nutrition Center and Orphanage; we opted to give cash this month to help with food costs. They are always so appreciative of anything we do but this month, there seemed to be an even greater appreciation expressed. The downturn in the economy in the U.S. hits everyone hard, including those who are serving on the field as independent missionaries. Because the children were getting ready for their Christmas piñata and party, we gave Tom and Nora a quick tour of the facility, grabbed a few hugs from some of the little ones and left to get on with our day.

We had to stop at Mario’s, our money changer, on the way in to Managua and after completing our transaction, we blessed him with a large tin of cookies imported from the U.S. His smile was the brightest I’ve seen it and he had to shake Jim’s hand as we wished him a Merry Christmas. We repeated the same gesture with the young girl who stands on the street selling papers. We have been buying papers from her almost daily for about six months now. She always is very cordial but is quite business-like, wanting only to sell her paper and not interested in talking. After all, you can’t make commission on conversation. When Jim handed her the tin of cookies along with the 5 cordobas for the paper, it was déjà vu. We saw on her face, the same look of surprise quickly followed by unabashed joy that we had seen on Mario’s. This was far better than fighting the crowds at the malls!

Most of the rest of the day was spent shopping…I told Tom and Nora that I thought that must be my spiritual gift! (I hope you know I'm saying that tongue in cheek!) But we weren’t buying for us or even for each other. We were busy buying our items to make our food bags. Thanks to their generosity, we were able to purchase even more items than we had originally planned and I was so excited, I thought I would explode!

We stopped for lunch in the early afternoon at one of our favorite little places to eat, Dona Blanca’s, which is a little street-side open air restaurant. Jim and I try to go there once every week or so as a treat to ourselves and to help support Dona Blanca and her waitresses. Our lunches are always more than we can eat and it costs less than $5 including a bottle of pop for each of us. We had a two-fold purpose for going: to eat a really tasty lunch but also to drop off another tin of cookies and a fruit basket of apples and grapes, “luxury” fruits for the holidays. Dona Blanca was so excited that I got a kiss and a hug! She proudly displayed them on a table and then told us that no one had ever given her such a wonderful treat before! She was so excited. After stuffing ourselves, getting more hugs and kisses, we got ready to leave.

There is a crippled man who unofficially guards the cars parked on the street in front of Dona Blanca’ s for 5-10 cords (25-50 cents). Some folks pay him, some don’t. We do. He has come to know us and always greets us when we arrive…I didn’t think to bring him a cookie tin that day, but as we were leaving, Jim gave him 50 cords and wished him a Merry Christmas. I didn’t even know that man could smile but I know it now! He actually made it to Jim’s door before Jim did and opened it up for him, thanking him all the way. As I said, I love Christmas!

We finished up our food shopping in the afternoon and made it home before dark. We assembled the food bags for delivery for the next day and spent the evening on the porch, rocking, laughing, rehashing the day and catching up on news from home. We turned on the Christmas lights on our Charlie Brown tree and as I sat and stared at some of the ornaments I had brought from home and just how special they are to me, I also thought about the wondrous love of God. He loves us so much…I thought about how He works in our lives, day in and day out, how He guides us, how He uses us to bless others and how He uses them to bless us. I thought about what this season really is about.

I wondered how I would have felt if the Bagwells, Mario, the paper girl, Dona Blanca or the crippled man would have turned their backs on our gifts of cookies, fruit, and cash to them? They were such simple, temporal gifts but nevertheless, a rejection would have hurt. But they didn’t…they received them with joy and pure delight. Isn’t that how we should receive the most precious gift of all, the gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ? In order for this to truly be a season of giving, I think there has to be the receiving. I pray each and every one of you have received the gift of salvation and if you’ve not yet done so, there’s not a better time to receive that gift than now…the best present you’ll ever receive.

We went to bed tired that night, but also with such a great sense of anticipation…after all, the next day was Christmas Eve day! Could it get any better?

Visiting Miguel...

Sorry I’m just now getting around to writing about our visit with Miguel…although our first visit was over two weeks ago, I still want to share it with you. I wish you could have been with us. Miguel lives in Tipitapa which is about 20 miles east of Managua. Normally, he is off on Mondays, but instead of giving us directions, he rode the bus an hour to meet us at the church in Managua where we have his English lessons. He wanted to ride with us back to Tipitapa to ensure we wouldn’t get lost. When we pulled up in front of the church, I almost didn’t recognize him standing on the curb. He was dressed in his best clothes and was waiting for us.

The Friday before we were to meet with him, we had discussed what the plan would be for that Monday. He said his mother would fix us lunch. I asked him what I could bring. That offer, which is typical for women in the U.S. would become a source of confusion that lasted longer than the conversation. Miguel didn’t understand what I meant and I tried to explain. I asked if he wanted me to make a dessert, bring a vegetable or help with the meat. He still didn’t seem to understand. Finally, I told him not to worry about it and that I would think of something. I was satisfied and so was he. Later I was to find out that neither of us had been communicating clearly with the other.

We enjoyed our conversation on the way to Tipitapa, with Miguel pointing out sites which were unfamiliar to us. As we turned down the street to his house, Miguel, very excitedly and quite suddenly asked us to stop the car. We thought we must have passed his house and I was a little baffled as to why he was trying desperately to open his car door. Jim unlocked the doors and Miguel jumped out. A little girl who was walking towards us, recognized Miguel and began running as fast as she could in such a short span. He held open his arms and she jumped up in to them, hugging him tightly around the neck. It was his youngest daughter (Sara, age 8) who lives with her sister and their mother. The joy of the two seeing one another was really very touching and it was easy to see she loved her daddy dearly and he, her.

She got in the car with Miguel and he introduced us and then we proceeded on a few blocks further to his mother’s house. It was obviously well taken care of and the front of it had been painted in the not too distant past. The fence was in good shape and the walkway cleaned. Upon our arrival, Miguel’s wife, Elizabeth came around the corner of the house. She smiled shyly at us and greeted me with a hug and a kiss…a very typical greeting. I had made chocolate cookies and cherry bars and was carrying them with me. Miguel took them from me and handed them to Elizabeth who then took them around to the back of the house.

We walked around the corner and Miguel showed us their flowers and three birds (pigeons) that he was raising. Elizabeth was back at my side, stroking my arm, and resting her head on my shoulder. She seemed like a completely different person than the one I had met several months earlier. She was still shy but obviously wanted to be close. I put my arm around her and she seemed to snuggle in. The picture is all of us with Miguel's daughter, Sara.

As we got to the back of the house, Miguel’s mother appeared. He introduced us and she welcomed us to her home. We then met one of his sisters and her two children, Liseta (age 4)and Kenet (age 9), who has lymphoma. They are such cute kids and we had a ball playing with them. It wasn’t too long before another sister appeared and another niece…then a nephew and a third sister. Evidently, it was big news that we were there.

We also were introduced to the family’s two pelibueys…an animal that is said to be a cross between a goat and a sheep. They are also called haired sheep, meaning they don’t have wool but a coat of hair instead. We were told that the male one would soon become dinner. I think his demise is actually planned for tonight, New Year’s Eve. I’ve tried to talk Miguel out of doing in the pelibuey but I don’t know that I’ve been successful. I think if I would have had more time, I could have at least been sporting a “Save the Pelibuey” t-shirt but there’s no time for that…at least not now. The poor thing thinks he’s being treated very well. He doesn’t know they’re just trying to fatten him up for the kill!

Miguel’s family had plastic chairs set out for us and we sat down to visit…a bit of a challenge for us all. Miguel, who is just starting to learn English and we, who are just learning Spanish, actually communicate pretty well with one another but every time one of the relatives would begin to talk to us, we would struggle to understand them and Miguel would try his best to translate. I think it was as exhausting for him as it was for us! But it was a fun time with lots of laughter.

Miguel’s mother called him in to the kitchen while we played with the children. He then came out and asked me if I would go in and cut the cherry bars. Elizabeth, along with Miguel’s sisters and his mother, all scrambled to find enough little plates and bowls so that I could serve my dessert. I wondered why we were eating dessert first but didn’t want to ask Miguel. It took me a bit of time to realize that no one was cooking any kind of meal for us. The only thing I saw cooking on the open fire was a small pot of beans that had been made in to a soup for Kenet. I just assumed that his mother had changed her mind about the lunch. It wasn’t until later that it dawned on me that in the confusion of our earlier conversation, that Miguel must have told them I would be bringing lunch for us all…no wonder we had a crowd gathered! But since that realization hadn’t yet hit, I still wasn’t embarrassed or uncomfortable about it all.

Miguel had told us his house was small…that’s the understatement of the year! His mother’s house is actually pretty nice. She has brick laid down over the dirt in the front room and she has a regular stove which doesn’t appear to work as it didn’t look like there was any propane tank hooked up to it. There was an open fire in the back area behind the house. Right next to her house I saw a small storage shed…or so I thought…it turned out to be Miguel and Elizabeth’s house. Miguel took us inside. It was a tight fit. At one point, Elizabeth took my hand…her hand was cold and trembling. I asked her if she was nervous and she said she was worried what we would think. I told her I thought she was precious and I was both pleased and honored to be there. She smiled and held my hand even tighter. I wanted to take a picture of their house but just didn't feel comfortable asking to do so as they both seemed a bit embarrassed by its size and condition.

The middle of the room had a white tablecloth hanging from the ceiling dividing it in half. The bedroom half is completely filled up by a twin size bed which they both share. The other half has their clothes and personal belongings stacked as they have no other furniture. This was the ½ that all four of us stood in as we were shown cracked plastic picture frames holding pictures of their wedding and deceased family members. There are no windows and only one door. The “house” has a dirt floor and is built with scavenged wood and 3 pieces of zinc which Miguel saved for a year to buy. He has a door that has a lock to protect their “valuables” from those who might be inclined to either snoop or help themselves to their meager belongings. That’s difficult for me to think that’s the kind of family Miguel has.

Jim and I praised Miguel on his construction and then, he very seriously, began to tell us what he would like to do someday in the future to expand his house to almost double its size with a shower and a toilet. It was fun to watch his animated face as he described each part of the construction process but at the same time, it was sad to think that no matter how good his intentions, his financial situation precludes that from most likely ever happening.
After we finished our dessert…with two thumbs up on the chocolate cookies and lots of cherry bars left on the plates (a new, too-sweet taste for them…and at $6 for a can for cherry pie filling, I almost asked to take it back home!), Miguel and Elizabeth asked if we would like to go meet Elizabeth’s Abuelita (little grandmother). We said we would love to and said our good-byes to the family…I imagine all of us had growling tummies at that point!

Elizabeth’s grandmother lives in Tipitapa but it’s quite a ways from their house and she doesn’t get to see her much. She is the one who had raised Elizabeth, whose mother had died when she was 12 years old. This visit was an unexpected one and we were welcomed in with great fanfare. Elizabeth’s aunt and cousins live next door to her grandmother and they came over to meet us. Miguel has taught her cousin how to play the guitar and so we were entertained with songs by both of them. After we stayed for a bit, we decided we should go and as we got in the car, Miguel asked if we would like to go eat chicken. We said yes, thinking we were going back to his house. But instead, he directed us to a restaurant on the edge of town.

As we pulled in to the restaurant, I could hear Miguel and Elizabeth whispering in the back of the car. I realized that there had been a giant miscommunication between us regarding lunch. I felt terrible but didn’t say anything as we went in and sat down. Miguel had to go to the restroom and I asked Jim if we had enough money on us to buy the kids their lunch. He assured me we did. When Miguel came out, I heard him tell Elizabeth they would order one plate and share it. I waited a few seconds and then asked Miguel if he would do me a favor. Of course, he hurriedly responded that he would. I then asked him if he would please let us have the privilege of buying lunch that day. He hesitated for a moment and I reminded him he had already committed to my favor. He laughed and agreed, telling Elizabeth that she could order 1 piece of chicken for herself.
Obviously, that wasn’t going to fly with me. Elizabeth was sitting next to me and I put my arm around her and told her she could order anything she wanted and eat as much as she liked. She must weigh 80 pounds, soaking wet! She looked at Miguel to affirm that. I looked at Miguel just daring him not to! He smiled and said she could get more. So, she chose a dinner plate with two pieces of chicken and Miguel finally ended up with a dinner plate with three pieces of chicken. They ate every single bit of food on their plate, while Jim and I both left some on ours.

During lunch, Elizabeth and I began talking with one another. She told me about her mother dying and how much she missed her. She said that Christmas was really hard. It was then that I asked her when her mother had died and she told me 10 years ago on January 26th. I told her that had been my mother’s birthday and that she had died two years ago. She asked me if I missed her. I told her I missed her terribly and I could feel my eyes beginning that familiar stinging. I decided it was a good time to take a drink of my soda and I felt an ice cold hand take hold of mine. I just squeezed it tightly until I knew we could resume our conversation without emotion getting the best of either of us.

About that time, Elizabeth leaned in close to me and wanted to know if I talked to my mother. Thinking she didn’t understand that my mother was deceased, I told her again. She nodded her head that she understood that and then told me she talks to her mother all the time. I waited a second and then told her that I didn’t know if my mother was a Christian or not, so I couldn’t be sure she would be in heaven. Elizabeth looked at me for a moment and then asked me to repeat what I had said. I did. I then told her that I never knew if my mother received Jesus in to her heart or not and that was harder not knowing for sure than it was losing her to death. I don’t know that Elizabeth would concur but I do know she was thinking very hard about what I was saying. You see, Elizabeth is not a Christian.

Our lunch ended and it was time to take Elizabeth and Miguel back to their house. We gave hugs and thanked them for their hospitality and the pleasure of meeting their families. Elizabeth hugged me extra tight when it was time for us to go and asked when she would see us again. I told her soon. She had no idea how soon that would be…Christmas was in just a couple of weeks and we had plans for that family.

On the way home, Jim and I talked about what a special young couple Miguel and Elizabeth are and how thankful we are God has brought them in to our lives. Jim talked about how much Elizabeth seemed to cling to me. We discussed some of the things we know about her past, both distant and recent. I told him that God never wastes our hurts or our failures when we give them over to Him and that He had given me a tender heart towards Elizabeth. It is easy for me to love her in spite of all her “junk”. I believe that is possible only because I know God loves me in spite of all mine. The blood of Christ covers me and that same blood can cover her. Redemption is a powerful thing.

We know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that God has called us to minister to this couple, physically and spiritually, in friendship and in counsel. They are a blessing to us in spite of the fact that they have so many problems, with their marriage, with their families, with their finances…inside themselves. But in them, we see such potential. We know God can change hearts and heal hurts. We know God desires loving, healthy and respectful relationships and we know He still performs miracles in the lives of those who are willing to allow Him to do so. We are excited to see what God is going to do with this young couple. Please join us in praying for Miguel and Elizabeth...I believe they’re a great investment of your time.

Shoe smacking...

Well, the power just went off again. Figures it would do it just as I am finally able to sit down to put together a blog. Thankfully, the laptop should allow me several hours to work on the computer. I’ve been struggling to find the delicate balance between school work, house work, ministry and blog and recently, have had to add power outages and water shortages back in the mix. It goes without saying that this isn’t part of my plan…okay...the power just came back on (four and a half hours after going off). And we just read yesterday how the power outages are supposed to be over with...guess we're tapering off instead of going cold turkey.

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged. We’re fine…just covered up right now. Language school seems to keep us extremely busy these days. We mistakenly thought that by cutting down the number of hours we were attending per week, we would gain some free time. That’s not the case. Instead, it seems as though our study time has had to increase and our “free” time, has dwindled down to doing errands. Our written work is far better than our conversational skills and even though I am able to usually get my point across, I find my comprehension of the language being rattled off ninety-to-nothing is really lacking. When will we ever know this language?????

We visited Miguel and his family yesterday…I will write about that separately…they are worthy of their own space. Today, I will share with you about our most recent visitors. The first night we moved in to this house, we had a small gray and white cat walk right through the bars on the outer door and in to the dining room. Of course, Jim chased her out and over the next few weeks, we would occasionally catch a glimpse of her running out through the yard. We also discovered there was an all–gray cat that would perch upon the security wall, tucked safely between the circles of razor wire.

One evening, as we were in the living room studying, we heard a noise in the kitchen and Jim went to check it out…the gray and white cat had jumped up on our little deck and had come through the open back door, jumped upon the kitchen counter and ripped open our loaf of bread. Needless to say, she was ushered out again and because we did it with a lot of noise, hand clapping and arm waving, we assumed we would have scared her so badly she wouldn’t return. We’re slow learners.

A few days later, we stopped at our now, second-favorite bakery to try one of their loaves of specialty breads. It smelled so good and there was such an array of beautiful crusty breads that it was difficult to choose. We settled on a nice round loaf of hearty bread for dinner that night and two crusty buns for lunch the next day, paying more than we usually allot for bread…but it smelled so much worth it!

That afternoon, as we were once again in the living room studying, we heard that familiar rustling noise in the kitchen. Both of us jumped up in time to see the gray and white cat leap down off the counter and run out the back door. We found our newly purchased breads lying strewn across the counter on to the floor in pieces! The cat didn’t even try the cheap loaf of bread. So, we not only realized the cat was NOT dissuaded by our attempts to shoo her away, but we also discovered she had a very discerning palate.

We weighed our options: we could live in a closed up house in a tropical country…not an option; we could somehow eliminate the cat…not an option for animal lovers like ourselves; we could get screens on the doors…an option but not one that would happen quickly; or we could buy cat food and try to teach the kitty that outside was a more peaceful place to get food than inside. Guess which one we chose? And guess who quickly decided to “own” us, letting us know in a very vocal way when her dish needed food or water...both several times a day.

And yes, we named her. In Spanish, the word “rogar” means “to beg” and the word for a female cat is “gata”…kitty’s name is now “Rogata”. I figured that her presence might cut down on the viability of rats or bats settling in our roof so we might as well give her a name since she was going to be working for us. (believe me, I am a master at rationalization and justification!)

Most stray cats are very shy here and run at the sight of a human. Rogata is different – at least with us. I think she must have lived here and was left behind when the former tenants moved out. She is a bit skittish but will come and rub up against my legs and will follow me around on the carport and front porch – especially when she’s hungry. And she’s very bold about coming in to the house but after a few spritzes with a water bottle, she has learned Jim does not want a house cat yet if I walk in the door, she skitters in after me and tries to stay behind my legs. She’s a smart cat…and a trusting one.

A few nights in to our new relationship with our feline friend, Jim noticed more movement out on the carport near Rogata’s dish. He quietly made it toward the door and found that Rogata was a mama who had brought her kitty to the Gringo Sucker house to eat. The kitty was the spittin’ image of her mama and looked to be about 4-6 weeks old…it’s hard to tell ages here with people or with animals. The common denominator of a hard life takes its toll on both. Rogata was very pleased with herself and was not at all concerned at our presence in regards to her baby. The baby wasn’t so sure and ran to hide, not being nearly as trusting as its mama.

Great…now we had another mouth to feed…you know how much I hated to see that adorable little kitty crouched down next to her mama. We started to understand Rogata’s incessant need to eat and drink so much…she, too, was feeding another mouth. Oh, that it would have stopped there. The very next night, Rogata brought more guests to dine at her dish…two more babies! Another one that looked like its mama and one that was all gray. Now I know the elusive gray cat we had seen was the father. And I’m already wondering how many litters of kitties are we going to be seeing here this next year?

Rogata remains friendly…the kittens do not, running and hiding every time we even get close to the door (this was a special moment in that we were able to get the picture taken before the kitties realized we were so close)...although they are very curious about what goes on inside. I love this picture...mama looks like she's begging for someone to help her get a moment's peace from the "children" and the kitties are just like children everywhere, wanting Mom to "fix" dinner. Jim is in the process of putting screens on the doors – to keep both mosquitos and cats out. And he’s learned to check the car before leaving. One of the kitties managed to crawl up under the hood and took a ride to the filling station and back, mewing all the way. When Jim got home and opened the hood, it jumped out and didn’t show its face the rest of the day.

Wildlife. Wish I could say it stopped with the kitties…not so. A couple of weeks ago, Jim

discovered a nice hairy tarantula standing in our hallway between the two bedrooms. I heard him make a really funny sound and then smack his shoe really hard on the floor. He told me not to come in to the hallway. So I did exactly what was expected…I went in to the hallway to see him scooping up a flattened giant ball of “fur” on to the flyswatter. He told me what it was and a quick glance confirmed he wasn’t kidding. I have to say I checked our bed out thoroughly that night before getting in to it.

This past Saturday night, Jim went downstairs to put away some of his tools and once again, I heard a vaguely familiar funny sound come from Jim and immediately followed by about a half a dozen rapid hard smacking sounds. I thought he had found another tarantula. He told me not to come down there…when will he learn that I interpret that as him just begging me to come? He told me he had killed a scorpion…well that I had to see. So I cautiously went down the steps expecting to see a scorpion similar in size and color to the one I had seen in Shell Knob years ago at a friend’s house.

I wish. This one was dark in color and about 4” long, although he seemed much bigger. Jim assured me he was dead although his curled up tail still quivered and his back left leg kicked a bit. Jim went upstairs to get the scorpion spray to speed along the final demise of the beastie and I stood guard – from a distance – to ensure the thing wasn’t just playing possum…although I’m not sure what I would have done if he decided to get up and start walking again. I do somewhat remember that I was ever-so-sweetly urging Jim to not choose that point in time to dawdle. This picture was taken post-mortum so I’m assuming the scorpion was a bit thicker prior to the shoe smacking.

So…what’s scarier than finding a scorpion in your house? Answer…finding two. Yep. Jim found another one in the guard/gardener room. This room is accessible only through the outside of the house and has an attached bathroom with shower. It’s a perfect place for Freddy to clean up and change clothes before going home and it allows us to provide bathroom facilities for outside employees. We have hired a temporary night guard for the next three weeks, to get us through the holiday time, when the rate of robberies increase, and until we can find someone on a permanent basis.

Jim went down yesterday afternoon to move some used, old Nica-style mattresses that we have stored out of that room to prepare for its use for the night guard. We don’t want to tempt a night guard to take a nap while on duty by leaving mattresses out where they’re readily available to him. He shook and checked each mattress as he got ready to carry them in to the basement. As he got ready to pick up the last one, one he had already checked over, he noticed something on the side of it he hadn’t noticed earlier. Sure enough, it was another scorpion, almost identical to the one he had killed a few nights earlier.

I guess he didn’t want my “help” on this one because he had it killed and disposed of before he even came to tell me about it. That’s okay, though…seeing one scorpion, even though it was dead, is enough for me although I have a funny feeling that one won’t be my last one. It appears inevitable that we are going to have to deal with them but neither of us are looking forward to getting stung and plan on trying to avoid that at all costs. The sting from this kind isn’t fatal but it is supposed to be extremely painful with temporary paralysis often occurring. I hate spiders with a passion but I almost think I would rather deal with the shy little tarantula than these nasty tempered things.

I have tried to figure out why God would make such a creature…guess that’s something only God could answer. Cute kitties, I understand and I welcome, but stinging scorpions? Those I’m hard-pressed to embrace, yet find I am being forced to accept as a part of my environment. I don’t want to deal with them but I don’t know that I’m going to have much say in the matter. That kind of equates to having to deal with one another, doesn’t it? Some folks are full of life and are a pleasure to have around. Others are walking poison.

Lord…please bring to my mind that flattened scorpion every time I want to sting someone else

out of my own impatience or frustration. Remind me of the fact that You are the Creator, omnipotent and omniscient and I am the created…why do I sometimes question and think my own way is best? I don’t want to have to be smacked with a spiritual shoe, Lord. Remind me that I have a choice as to how I react to all my circumstances. Remind me I have a choice to obey or disobey. Remind me I have the choice to follow You or to follow the world, to serve You or to serve self. One is filled with joy, the other filled with poison. Remind me, Lord, remind me.

“Choose for yourselves this day…” Joshua 24:15

Happy Thanks-living!

It’s Thanksgiving Day. Really? Doesn’t feel like it, doesn’t look like it, doesn’t smell like it. But that’s what the calendar indicates. So, we’ll go with that. But so far today, there just isn’t much that has the “flavor” of Thanksgiving Day about it. This is one of only several times in 35 years that I’ve not cooked a turkey on this day. It’s a lot of work fixing Thanksgiving dinner as many of you women well know…but I have to confess, I sure miss it this year. Preparing the dinner with all the “fixin’s” for my family was something I honestly enjoyed doing…partially because I love to cook and mostly because I love my family.

Several of you have asked if they celebrate Thanksgiving here. No. The Nicaraguans don’t care a fig whether the Pilgrims survived their first winter in the New Land or not. Truthfully, I often wonder if our nation is a “thankful” nation anymore. And, if the steady and purposeful elimination of the mention of God from all aspects of our “public” lives continues, I question whether we, as a nation, will be able to continue to celebrate Thanksgiving…after all, to Whom could we give thanks? Norman Rockwell’s picture of a family celebrating Thanksgiving may someday be more nostalgic than we might imagine.

Back to here. Thanksgiving in Nicaragua. The grocery stores have jumped on the American bandwagon and are carrying frozen turkeys for those diehard or homesick Americanos who refuse to celebrate any other way. We were so excited to see that and had initially thought we would go ahead and get a small one and fix as traditional a dinner as we could any. Then one of us had the forbearance of mind to check the price of the tempting Tom…YOWZA!!!! They ranged in price from $60-$90, depending on size and brand. Big Butterballs cost big bucks! It didn’t take long to make the decision to leave the frozen fowls for others who might have a stronger sense of tradition (and deeper pockets) than do we.

So did that mean we would have no turkey??? Heaven forbid!!! We found a package of turkey lunchmeat which suddenly gained great appeal and so today, we dined on exquisitely thinly sliced processed turkey breast, positioned beautifully between two pieces of bread from the local bakery and lightly glazed with some imported mayo. This delightful entrée was accompanied with a salty side dish of chips…Pringles, I might add. Topped off with a glass of Diet Pepsi and we were set!

Now, before you feel too sorry for us, I have to tell you that we’ve been invited over to some friends’ house for dinner tonight along with some other missionaries. And, it’s my understanding they will have both turkey and ham (another pretty pricey import here…a small Farmland spiral sliced ham is between $30 and $50, again depending on size). I heard a team brought down some canned pumpkin and sweet potatoes so the dinner is supposed to be very traditional. The anticipation of what’s to come made my turkey lunchmeat sandwich much easier to swallow…so to speak.

And, last Sunday night, our church had a Thanksgiving potluck dinner with the church buying the turkeys. It's an international church but one might think it's comprised of only Baptists with all the eating that was going on that night! So, it's not like we have been or will be totally fowl-free this holiday.

It’s true that today I miss the smells of preparing Thanksgiving dinner but more than that, I miss my family. I miss the constant chatter of the kids, the question of the day, “How much longer ‘til we eat?”, the moans and groans that come from those with too-full tummies. I miss giving and getting hugs, the kids stretched out on the floor in front of the fireplace, the cut-throat games of Krazy Bee Rummy, the snuggling on the couch and yes, it’s true, tonight, I will miss that satisfying sense of exhaustion that often accompanies an act of effort laced with love.

I miss the smell of sage but I miss more the smell of a freshly-scrubbed Jeremiah. I miss the glisten of the glaze on the turkey, but I miss more the brightness of Maddie’s smile. I miss the comfort of hot bread ready to be buttered, but I miss more the warmth of Sam’s arms wrapped around “Grams”. I miss the sound of the oven timer going off repeatedly as each dish finishes its time there, but I miss more the sound of Benjamin’s contagious laughter. I miss my old crowded kitchen…not because it was necessarily small but because it was filled counter to counter with loved ones - with our daughters, our son-in-law and our precious grandchildren. Turkey doesn’t make Thanksgiving special, family does.

All this “missing” could make for a really down day. But God won’t let me stew in my “missing” like a turkey does in its own juices. He’s been faithful to remind me this week of so many of my blessings. And maybe that the emphasis on one special day of giving thanks isn’t necessarily what He wants. He had put before us this week, several opportunities to give…not just out of our pockets, but out of our day and out of our selves, to folks here who consider a whole chicken a feast. Never mind the fact they’ve never even tasted turkey. We have been able to provide food to a family and medicine to another. We have been able to give counsel to a troubled marriage. To bring words of encouragement to one who was discouraged. We have a young girl, who has come off the streets of prostitution, and her 1 year old baby, whom we are going to be helping with food and gifts for Christmas.

It is with great sincerity when I say that God is revealing to me, reminding me and teaching me I have so much to be thankful for and whether I have turkey today or not is not even on the radar screen. I think God would much rather I stay in a state of Thanks-living rather than celebrate one day of Thanksgiving. I pray you all have a blessed day with your family, your friends and our God.

A day with the Creator...

What do you do when you’re “restricted” to your house? Actually, I don’t think I’ve had that imposed on me since I was a teenager…and all I could do then was pout and complain about how unfair life was. I’ve tried that this morning but it’s not worked any better now than it did then.
I guess “restricted” is too extreme of a word for this situation. We opted to stay home this morning from going to teach Miguel, due to the continuing problems in the streets. He’s sad but he understands. He really looks forward to our time together. He’s so curious about Americans and our way of life – just as we are his. He’s also very curious as to why we do some of the things we do…or don’t do. We continue to disciple Miguel according to God’s Word. He has much to learn about grace…but don’t we all?

Staying home has turned out to be a wise decision. There are already impromptu demonstra-tions happening all over the city. The news just showed a large crowd gathering at the inter-section we would have gone through. The demonstrators, (not sure if it was the Opposition or the Sandinistas) had set fire to a truck…always a good way to gather a crowd…and to get on television.

For the most part, the demonstrations seem to be pretty peaceful today but there’s to be a huge demonstration planned for this afternoon and they are anticipating there to be violence then. The businesses at that location are all boarding up their windows and the roads are already starting to be blocked off. The Sandinistas are burning tires in the street, tearing down the Opposition’s banners and traffic is a nightmare. Yep, staying home was a good idea…the trash men must have the same idea as they didn’t come by this morning.

So, what can we do today? We will study, that’s a given. And, I’m on my second load of clothes but since water pressure is so low, it’s now almost a 2 hour process to get a load washed. The house is easy to keep clean…especially with Margarita here this morning! The floors just shine…she wields a mean mop! So, no need to do much housework – I’m able to keep up with it each day. The benefit of living in a small space without a lot of extra stuff… We’re trying not to stay glued to the news but it is difficult. This city is where we now live and these are the people to whom we want to minister. We don’t want to see them as Sandinistas or Opposition party members…it’s too easy to get caught up in the politics. We’re not here to be political pundits. We’re here to show and share the love of Jesus Christ…to both the Sandinistas and the Opposition parties.

With it being a “slow” day, it’s amazing what we can find to entertain us. This morning, I took a couple of pictures of the active volcano, Mombotombo and its smaller sidekick, Mombotombito, which sits towards the northwest of us. I wish my camera could capture the beauty of this area, but it’s just not able to do so. The rising sun was hitting the side of Mombotombo and the sky provided the perfect backdrop to clearly see the steady poofing of black smoke coming from the peak. It was beautiful.

To the northeast, the mountains in the distance were veiled with a thin haze. The lake was still and Managua appeared peaceful. So did Ciudad Sandino. It was too early for the booms to have begun and the only noise that stood out was the crunching and rustling of our four-legged neighbors. They belong to Eddy, a neighborhood man who keeps an eye out on the backside of the houses on this stretch of street. When we first looked at the house, there were three little pigs…he’s down to two.

This yellow-bellied bird is a regular on our clothesline each morning. He sits proudly like a king on his throne and turns his head first one way and then another, surveying his kingdom and looking for breakfast. When I got ready to take his picture, he flew to another part of the yard. This is the best picture I could get of him today. Unlike the demonstrators on the other side of the city, he’s a bit camera shy.

And finally, our find of the day…this giant, black grasshopper!!! He has been injured, with a portion of his back end looking as though it has been gnawed on, (perhaps he found part of his fanny in the beak of the yellow bird) and his right rear leg (is that what it’s called???) bent inwards at an awkward angle when he walks, but even so, he’s still a mighty fine and strappin’ lookin’ bug! My daughter, Sadie, will be happy to know that after his photo shoot, we left him alone, to live and terrorize other gringas who might happen upon him. Jim actually gets the credit for the photos on this one. I asked him to put his finger next to the grasshopper so you would have an idea how large he was. My big, brave photographer would only put his finger a few inches away from the grasshopper and not right next to it so you still can't get a fair perspective of just what a whopper this lil' black beauty is…but then, I have to add he got a lot closer to it than I was willing to do!

I always want to glorify God with whatever I write. I think I’ve been pretty clear about the “wars and rumors of wars” that we’re experiencing here. God is still God. He is our Hiding Place. His banner cannot be torn down nor can he be voted out of being God. The nations may rage but God reigns. Mombotombo cannot be contained by man. No artist could begin to paint the beauty our Creator showed me this morning. And there was a lesson in both the bird and the grasshopper…neither were concerned with riots or demonstrations. They were just busy being who they were created to be. That’s what we need to do today. We were created to be His children and as such, we can rest safely in the presence of our Father, knowing He is in control of all things, from booms to bugs.

All's quiet on the western front...

Sometimes the absence of a noise is as disturbing as the noise is itself. That’s somewhat how I’m feeling at the moment…the booms have stopped. Managua is always a noisy city but right now, the noises are more than the sound of blaring car horns, buses belching exhaust and motorcycles ring-a-ding-dinging as they weave their way through the ever-present traffic. The booms we’ve been hearing for the past week have been fireworks, mortars or a combination of the two. This is a city in turmoil which is escalating to upheaval unless the two opposing political parties can achieve some kind of agreement for a peaceful coexistence.

Barrios in the some of the poorest parts of the city are becoming rock-throwing battlegrounds. Machete wielding vigilantes threaten their enemies…many of whom are neighbors, co-workers, even family members. Roads have been blocked and traffic brought to a standstill. Businesses have closed due to the riots. Blood has been spilled with countless injuries and several deaths. This is a passionate country comprised of passionate people. And this past week, their passion has boiled over.

Last week’s mayoral election results have been the igniter for this potential implosion. There have been numerous allegations and accusations of voter fraud. There were voters who say they were threatened, voters who were tagged as voting earlier in the day when they claim they had not yet cast their ballots, figures that were supposedly altered, voting locations that closed early, large numbers of ballots that were supposedly found in the trash, and so on. The typical kind of thing when the losing party doesn’t accept defeat at the ballot box…the problem is, the opposition party says they have proof of all of the above and they’re fighting back…through the courts, through the media, through the international community and now, through the city streets. This stuff makes Florida’s hanging chads seem like a sandbox dispute.

Now I see this in several ways. I know how the news outlets love to play this stuff up. After all, that’s what sells papers and glues people to their favorite news channels. And we have been able to travel all throughout the city all week long without so much as one incident. But we have tried to be smart in our travels. We avoid the areas that are known trouble spots. We don’t go out after dark and we keep our doors and gates locked at all times. Not much different than traveling or living in any major city in the U.S.

The other side of that is this stuff is real. This country has a history of being pillaged by its own leaders. There is a faction that says enough is enough. It is crying out for the people to stand up for themselves and to quit being oppressed. Funny thing is, that’s the same battle cry of the current government. The ruling authorities have taken good care of their supporters and have a publicity (or propaganda, depending on how you view it) department that can hold its own if compared to any other heads of state press corps. There seems to be a lot of inciting going on. And meanwhile, it’s the same story it’s always been in politics like these…the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. And just like a well-thought out chess game, the pawns are being played to perfection and are sacrificed as necessary.

Thankfully, we live on the far west side of the city and up until today, all the action has been taking place in the central part of the city. Today, the road blocks made it here to the South Highway, just ½ block from where we used to live. Seems the opposition party had a meeting planned with some officials so they could show proof of election fraud. Apparently, the ruling party blocked the highway with semi trucks so that traffic could not pass either way. Another one of the many roadblocks throughout the city was held at the base of our “mountain”…right in front of a police station. Since there weren’t any moving violations, I’m assuming the police didn’t get involved. That was dripping with sarcasm, in case you missed it. I’m afraid my opinion of the folks in blue isn’t very high. Well, now I have to retract that statement…Jim said the news just showed one of the riot police throwing a rock at one of the incidents and then running. I laughed. He then said it wasn’t a rock, but a tear gas canister. Maybe so, but the rock story seems more plausible.

The odd thing about all this is we didn’t know anything about any of today’s events until we got several phone calls and Jim turned on the news. And we just live a couple of blocks back from the South Highway! We’ve been cautioned to stay in tonight and perhaps even tomorrow. As a result, we may have to cancel our time with Miguel this week. He works close to one of the trouble spots. It’s unusual that this kind of protest would make it out to our side of Managua. These protests don’t usually affect us on this western edge of town. And if it weren’t for the constant booms and periodic sound of sirens, we could easily pretend that none of this is happening. After all, that’s what most of the world does with any kind of elsewhere-conflict unless it has a direct impact on a nation. But we can’t ignore it. It’s what’s happening here and the increase in the frequency of the booms is the constant reminder we’re in a nation that’s pushing itself to the brink.

Nicas love their fireworks. You don’t see the big fountains or rockets bursting in the air, showering down sparks and streams of colored fire. But you do hear the deep, resounding boom of their explosives. And they will add those booms to any kind of celebration…or apparently, any kind of protest. But now, they’ve added mortars. Many are home-made jobs, but according to some of the news sources, there are some military type mortars being fired as well. Either way, it’s a level of protest that shouldn’t have been reached. I don’t know how this is going to be settled without further casualties. They’re going too far here. I hate fighting. I hate what it does to people inside and out. The ones who will win this “conflict” certainly won’t be the ones who are fighting it in the streets, I can assure you. The dirt they bear on their hands doesn’t come from picking up rocks. I think it’s most likely coming from dirty money.

I’ve been thinking about something. We were told that this country is filled with missionaries and that it is considered a Christian nation. I can understand the first part of that statement. I’ve never agreed with the second. If that were true, would any of this be happening? Is this loving your brother as yourself?

I had someone ask me on the phone today if I was afraid. The answer tonight is no. The booms and the sirens are still far away. This fight is not mine. It’s someone else’s. Much like it was during the times of civil unrest in our own country in the sixties and seventies. Those scenes on the television were mesmerizing. But they didn’t touch me. I was safe in my own home. Like now. We’re safe in our own home. That’s the answer tonight.

For awhile tonight, the booms had stopped. I had hope. They’ve begun again. I guess that means the people in the streets have their own hopes, although obviously different than those of the guy on the other end of the rock, the machete or the mortar round. I suppose a suggestion to settle differences with three fast-paced rounds of rock, paper, scissors would be out of the question. There would be no boom.

Surprise, surprise, surprise...

It seems like every time we make the trip to Rio Blanco, there’s always a nugget of the unusual tossed in just to make the trip interesting. This trip was no different in that respect. It was a trip filled with little surprises. Wikipedia defines surprise as, “a brief emotional state that is the result of experiencing an unexpected event. Surprise can have any valence; that is, it can be neutral, pleasant, or unpleasant.”

We left Friday afternoon with Jim driving Susanna’s car and Pastor Sergio riding up with us. As usual, we didn’t leave on time…that’s one of the things that’s most difficult for me to get used to…that schedules are more suggestions. No surprise there.

Freddy had decided he would stay the night Friday night so that our house would not be left empty. We told him it wasn’t necessary but he didn’t like the idea of no one being here at night. We set him up in the bedroom downstairs that can be accessed only through the exterior entrances. It is where we keep the gardening tools and Freddy is accustomed to it. It has its own bathroom and shower which makes it nice for things like this. We put up the mattresses that had come with the bunk beds we had bought months ago. They are typical Nica mattresses, definitely not the kind Americans are used to sleeping on, and are easily folded in half. We gave him a plastic chair and table to use and told him we would probably be back Saturday night and that it wasn’t necessary for him to be here and that it would be okay.

When we arrived at Sergio’s house to pick him up, his wife and one of his sons were outside to see him off. There was also a gentleman sitting just inside their gate and he looked familiar. Recognition hit both of us at the same time. It was Simon, the man from Rio Blanco, whose house the team from South Carolina worked on when they were here in June. He is the gentleman who has had a leg amputated and has been having some serious health issues at the site of the amputation as a result. We visited him again in July to see how he was doing. Simon is one of the people we took a food basket to when we were there. He is also the gentleman for whom we paid to have transported to Managua to seek medical treatment. He recently had another surgery and it has been a lengthy and painful ordeal for him. We always ask Sergio how he’s doing but we had no idea we would find him at Sergio’s house.

It seems that he needed a place to stay that was closer to the hospital where he’s currently taking treatments – Sergio says it’s chemotherapy, but someone else says she thinks it’s physical therapy. Either way, it’s taken him away from his home and his family. Simon was staying with another friend but the financial strain was proving to be too great on that family. That’s when Sergio stepped in to help.

It was such a nice surprise to see him and to see his smile when he realized it was us in the car. He just lit up and instinctively, tried to stand. He grabbed his homemade crutch and reached for his shoe to put on his remaining foot. We were in a hurry and so I waved him to stay there but we hollered greetings at one another, like two old friends. And I hope when we left Sergio’s house that Simon had the same warm feeling watching us pull away that I did as I waved goodbye.

Simon said in July that God brought us here as a gift to him. It was such a sweet thing to say and it was so nice to hear, but that’s a humbling thing, you know it? It’s a praise that is weighty with responsibility. We do feel a burden for Simon and it’s been such a privilege to be able to help him through the giving of others. We want him to know that our God is a big God who loves His children equally and that we believe we are blessed to be a blessing. That the acts of kindness and caring do not come from us, not even from you, but are fruits from the Spirit that are being poured out on and through God’s children. Simon is more than a person in need whom we have been able to help. He is our brother because we share the same Father.

Another pleasant surprise came when we had just passed Matiguas, the last small community we go through before getting to Rio Blanco. It was nearing dark and all of a sudden, Sergio hollered for Jim to stop the car. It seems we were passing a place that makes molasses…or that’s what they call it, anyway. Here it is used as a supplement to feed the cattle. Susanna had been asking where she could find molasses and Sergio pointed this place out.

Jim stopped the car and backed up in to the yard/driveway area of the place. We got out and saw probably ½ dozen or so men working and just as many sitting around and watching. It was a fascinating procedure and I wish it would have been lighter so the pictures would be easier to see but I will try to describe the process.

The only artificial light was from a light bulb strung over the center of activity where two oxen were yoked together (equally, I assume) and were fastened like a spoke in a wheel to a “hub” which contained a mechanical press. They were motivated to keep walking in a circle by a young man with a switch who walked behind them, swatting them periodically. He walked with a pronounced limp and I wondered if that was the only kind of work he would be able to find. He stared at us with great curiosity. There was another man standing before a table filled with cut sugar cane which had been stripped of all foliage. That man would feed the stalks of cane in to the press. The oxen powered the press to crush the cane and they caught the liquid “sugar” in to a bucket. There was a third man on the other side of the press who would remove the remnants of the pressed cane.

The next step was to take the buckets of liquid sugar over to a huge open oven which was fueled by wood. There was a giant vat, of sorts, that lay on top of the oven. The liquid sugar was put in the vat and another couple of men would stir it. The heat was intense from the fire. As the sugar boils down, it creates a syrup. There was another man who somehow opened a drain and filled buckets with the dark, thick syrup. Susanna was disappointed to find out that the molasses wouldn’t be ready until much later that night or perhaps, even the next morning. So, our time there was over.

The whole scene was mesmerizing and I could have stood and watched for much longer but we still had a ways to go to get to Rio Blanco. In just the fifteen minutes or so that we were there watching, the sun had quickly gone down. We would once again be entering Rio Blanco in the dark. And boy, was it dark. The power was out. Surprise!

After dropping Sergio off at his brother’s house, we headed back out to the hotel. One of the workers and the security guard recognized all of us and came to meet us with flashlights. There is a great deal of construction going on at the hotel and the owner is adding more rooms and a “conference” room. The young man who asked us about what kind of rooms we needed wanted to know if we wanted air conditioning. We told him “no” and then later laughed at the question…the power was out…what good would air conditioning do us?

We were shown to our rooms…thankfully, we had a different room than last time. Hopefully, the bedbugs hadn’t found this one yet. It was really a pretty nice room, all in all. The double bed had a bedskirt but no bottom sheet and a twin size top sheet. The pillows were in bright, red pillow shams which were made of some sort of thick, heavy material. But it was a clean room. We had a little sink, a small table with a color tv, a straight backed wooden chair and two floor fans. The bathroom “door” was a shower curtain liner and the shower was huge. The one thing that was the same was the nice “refreshing” mountain stream water. Br-r-r-r!!!

We had each thought to bring flashlights so we were able to see to open the window and we opened our door to get a breeze through the room and it actually was quite nice. Susanna had ordered our dinner when we first arrived and we ate dinner on a plastic table with two candles stuck in beer bottles. We were hungry and the food was excellent. The candle lit dinner was perfect and we enjoyed our time. But by 8:00, we were all exhausted and ready to go to bed. It had been a long day. Just as we got up to leave the table, the lights came back on. It was then that we got a better idea of the amount of work that was being done in regards to the expansion. You can see in these pictures that I took the following morning some of the “scaffolding” they use, donated by "clear-cutters-r-us"! Just kidding.

When Jim and I returned to the room, we put down a blanket and a sheet on top of the bedskirt. We had brought them from home, along with our own pillows, in hopes of putting some distance between us and the bedbugs. Jim and I made sure we were well-covered with our heavily laden deet bug spray and we retired for the night, praying that morning would find us bite-free. Thankfully, those prayers were answered as we had hoped. I hate to say we were surprised…I prefer to think we were blessed!

We were off to set up the clinic at the church by 7:15 Saturday morning. It was a slow start and we weren’t sure we would have very many people at all but by mid-morning, the place was jammed and the pace remained hectic for the remainder of the day. Susanna lost count on her numbering of patients that she checked in, but we think there were somewhere between 115 and 125. We finally finished up with the last patient leaving about 5:00, realizing we hadn't taken any pictures since early that morning. The only time Jim and I sat down was for our 20 minute break for lunch. The rest of the day found us bent over a table, counting pills, writing labels, tagging meds. It was a hard day for us two oldies…my neck and shoulders still hurt today.

Another surprise. ..I didn’t really expect to see anyone I would know – not in Rio Blanco, especially. But I looked up to see a dark, serious young man rounding the top of the steps and once again, dual recognition happened as we saw one another’s faces. It was Fausto! He was the Nicaraguan carpenter who headed up the construction when the S.C. team was there in June! I never really expected to see him again after that week as he lives quite a distance from Rio Blanco – several hours away. But he had heard about the clinic and had come to town that day to do some shopping and to take advantage of the low-cost treatment. We all shook hands and hugged in the typical Nica fashion and it was such a delight to see another heartfelt smile from a contact we had made months earlier. I love how God weaves people together. It was obvious he was as surprised to see us as we were him.

Fausto’s not a believer in Jesus but he couldn’t escape the reminder that Jesus was caring for him through those in that room. He was checked in by a Christian nurse. He had to wait for over two hours listening to Christian music – obviously not the old hymns or the contemporary Christian music that we love but still, music that praises God. He met with a Christian doctor, was prayed over by a Christian pastor and had his prescriptions filled by Christian missionaries. I wonder what he was thinking as he left yesterday. We pray that God will call to him through visions and dreams and that he will remember there are people in Rio Blanco who care for the health of his soul as well as for the health of his body.

We left Rio Blanco at 5:30. One more surprise. Ramon, a friend of Sergio’s and Susanna’s wanted to go back to Managua with us. Susanna said he was a professional driver and knew the roads. Jim and I were both bushed so we climbed in the back and Ramon drove with Susanna up front. He crept along, slower than the molasses we didn’t get. We thought we would never get home. Until he hit the main road going back in to Managua and then it was as though a fire had been lit under that boy! It is with all seriousness when I tell you that he drove faster once we were in Managua than when we were on our way there. There were more than a few times that I prayed we wouldn’t hit anyone or be hit. Again, God was merciful and we made it home without a scratch…even tighter neck and shoulder muscles but thankfully, nothing more serious than that.

We pulled up in front of our gate to unload our stuff and the beam of a flashlight was coming up the driveway. It was Freddy…faithful and good to his word. He welcomed us with his smile and immediately began carrying our things to our porch. He asked about our trip and I asked about his family. He then said he had something to show me. He took me out to our front yard where he had planted flowers and the start off a bush I had loved at the old house. It was a wonderful surprise! He was as pleased at my reaction as I was at his action. I told Freddy that Jim could take him home since the buses had quit running and he said that he would stay the night downstairs again because it was dangerous for Jim to be driving in his neighborhood that time of night. He said he had told his family he would be here all night and so they wouldn’t be expecting him. And so, we all said good-night. Freddy went down to “his” room and the nicest surprise of all was when we came inside…it felt good...we noticed it’s starting to feel like home…“a brief emotional state that is the result of experiencing an unexpected event…”