The day God nudged the bus...

Since arriving in Nicaragua, one of our daily prayers has been that we would see God at work. One would think that would be a consistent prayer from every one of His children, but I have to be honest and admit that has not always been the case with me. It seems like there have been so many times that I have offered up my “I want” petitions instead of “I worship” praises. I think I’m finally starting to learn that the “I wants” pale in comparison to the “I worships”. God reminded me of that in Rio Blanco.

I mentioned in an earlier blog that the team we were working with in Rio Blanco would divide each day in to three groups. There was a group that did VBS, a group that worked on construction and each afternoon, a third group, comprised of a few people from each of the other two, made Home Outreach Visits (HOV). Each day, the groups would rotate so that each individual was able to experience time on each project. Since there were some team members who had been doing construction in the morning but were going to be making the home visits, they would clean up a bit after lunch and then board the bus. They would take the HO buckets which Jim, Susanna and I had put together for them prior to their arrival. Those buckets contained food staples and a few household items such as soap, detergent and such. The team also made up the most remarkable giant bags for each family which held sheets, towels, additional hygiene items, clothing, etc. This team was in to passing on blessings, let me assure you! For many of the team, these HVO were the highlight of their week.

Each day for three days, the HO team was scheduled to go visit 4 families that had been previously chosen by Pastor Sergio. Some of the families were church members, some were promising prospects and others did not know the Lord at all. The first day, Jim went with the group. He said that it really struck him how friendly and open the children were. Nicas seem to be a naturally curious people anyway, but with children, there are absolutely no inhibitions when their curiosity is piqued and all pretenses of being a stranger disappear. They love having their picture taken and they love getting gifts so a gringo who qualifies in both categories is a most welcome individual!
Jim also mentioned that one of the women in one of the families they visited insisted on changing her blouse before getting her picture taken…vanity is not bound by economics or geography. An older lady in yet another one of the families they visited that first day, was extremely proud of her “garden” and was pointing out various plants to the team…of course, Jim loved that even though he didn’t understand most of what she was saying. And I would imagine, it didn’t really matter to her whether he understood her words or not, there was a fellow gardener in her midst!

The next day was my turn. Our group of eight (including Jonathan, the translator, Blanca, who was helping with VBS and Pastor Sergio), boarded the bus to go take our turn at the HVO. It’s important I remind you, we were being inundated with rain every day. The bus had to park a little ways down the hill from the first house we were going to visit. The hills are steep there and the heavy rains were really washing the roads to the point that it just wasn’t a good idea to try to drive up some of them. We got off the bus, carrying the bucket and the “blessing” bag and walked to our first home. There, we met a woman and one of her daughters, who was about 13

years old.

Jay, the group leader for the entire team, thanked the woman for allowing us to come and visit her and told her we had some gifts for her. He explained that they were free gifts and we hoped they were a blessing to her but there was an even greater free gift available to her…the gift Jesus Christ offers of eternal life. She nodded as if she were familiar with this gift and was very appreciative of the gifts we had brought to her home.

We each introduced ourselves to her and her daughter and then Chris, one of the young men, shared his testimony with her. Jonathan translated for us which was crucial for the communication aspect. The woman listened to Chris and when he finished, she began telling us some of the more personal details of her life. This was without any prompting from any of us, but it was very apparent the Holy Spirit was doing the prompting that afternoon.

She shared that the man with whom she lived was abusive to her and her children. He apparently drinks a lot and does not treat her well. She said she wanted to come back to church, that she knew God wanted her to do that, but that her man didn’t want her to. And she began to cry. She said she wanted to get her life straightened out first and then she would come back to church. The various members of the team assured her God didn’t want her to clean up first…He wanted her just as she was. She cried some more.

Jay then gently, yet firmly, laid out the truth for the woman. That when the day of judgment comes and we are all standing before the Lord, He is not going to hold her accountable for this man’s actions or her daughter’s actions but only for her own and that she would be judged by God solely on what she did with Jesus – on her obedience to Him and what He is calling her to do. He explained in very simple terms, personal responsibility and accountability and how that would play out for eternity. She listened, she cried, but in the end, she only promised that she would think about what was said.

I believe she will. I believe God will honor Jay’s efforts and his boldness and that God will continue to burden this woman’s heart and that she will gain strength and courage to do the right thing re: this live-in companion but more importantly, re: her eternal future…that’s become another one of my more frequent prayers.

We left that house, boarded the bus again and headed out to our second HV. We had a plan and a schedule and we were on target for both. Once again, we had a steep hill looming ahead of us but none of us were concerned. Instead, we were laughing and joking and all of us were in high spirits for our next visit. The torrential rains were making the roads treacherous as the downpours dumped more water than the ground could handle. The normal little rivulets were turning in to great ruts and rivers in the rock and clay road.

The “dirt” In Rio Blanco seems to be anything other than dirt. Having very high clay content, when wet, it becomes very slick and ridiculously difficult to navigate. Donald, our bus driver, kept trying to make it up the hill. The bus began to slide. The laughing and joking stopped. All conversation ceased as those of us on my side of the bus began to see a ditch quickly approaching us. That was not the direction we were supposed to be going. Donald managed to stop the bus and tried again to get us up the hill. Once again we began to slide backwards and sideways simultaneously.

I think if the truth be known, all of us on the bus were a little scared. Buses are not supposed to be going the direction we were headed and certainly not in the manner we were getting there. One of the girls on the bus put words to the feelings I’m sure most of us were experiencing, “I want to get off the bus, now!” She did not scream, she did not yell and she did not panic, but there was no doubt that she meant what she said and she continued to repeat that desire. And I believe every one of us was in complete agreement with the expression of her sentiments.

It was a frightening few moments and God prompted me to pray out loud, asking for His hand to protect us, acknowledging that He was (and is) in control of all things and that He would remind us that the fear we were experiencing was not of Him. Almost instantaneously, His peace covered each one of us like a soft, comforting blanket as we gently slid down in to the ditch and came to rest safe and sound, deeply cradled in a sloppy, muddy mess. The bus was tipped at an angle most of us didn’t care for much (at least I didn’t…it was tipped down on my side!) and the side passenger door wouldn’t open due to the position of the bus against the side of the ditch. We were all in agreement we wanted off the bus and the only way off was out the front doors. (Somehow, looking at this picture, it doesn't seem nearly as scary as it did then...I guess the tilt seemed to be much greater at the moment than it actually was...or perhaps the camera just couldn't capture the true angle...I'll go with that).

Now I need to explain that the bus was also loaded with the remainder of the wood we would be using on the next roof we were going to be doing plus an additional roof we were financing. So, the aisle of the bus was filled with boards. That meant in order to get out of the bus, we had to climb up over the wood, climb over the seats and climb out the front passenger door. So, that’s what we did. It’s amazing how agile that adrenaline created by a sliding bus can make someone my age!

Once we were all out of the bus, we were able to assess the situation more clearly. Yep, we were stuck! Buried-up-to-the-hubs stuck! And guess what…the rain started coming down even heavier. It was at that point, we all realized we had come to rest in front of a house with a porch which held about a half dozen people who had gathered to watch the afternoon’s entertainment…a sliding green bus filled with some really, white-faced gringos!

The family who occupied the house called to us to come and take shelter from the rain on their porch. So, to be polite…and to keep from getting washed away…we all gladly took refuge on the porch. Within seconds, plastic chairs were pulled out of the house and given to each of us women. We sat down and watched as Donald and the guys tried to push the bus out. Of course, this drew an even bigger crowed – many of them men but none of them volunteering to help get the bus out. They didn’t come to participate in the mud fest, they were just curious as to what the gringos were going to do next.

It was quickly ascertained that the bus wasn’t going anywhere without the assistance of one very large truck with one very large motor. Didn’t seem to be one in the neighborhood… Pastor Sergio called his brother, Julio, who lives right in town, and told him the situation. With the problem of getting the bus out of the ditch now passed on to Julio, Pastor Sergio explained to the family why there was a bus with gringos in their ditch to begin with and what our plans had been. He thanked them for their hospitality in sharing their porch with us and asked if they were familiar with Verbo Church in town. They nodded a bit uncomfortably and their eyes seemed to find other places to look.

We decided we needed to express our thanks to this family for opening their home to us and so one of the guys climbed back in to the bus and got out a HVO bucket and a “blessing” bag. Jay asked the family (through our interpreter) if there was anything we could pray about specifically for them. The mother of the home asked Pastor Sergio to come inside as she wanted to speak to him in private. (Note: I chose not to take any pictures of this family out of respect to them and the following situation)

A few moments later, he came to the door and told us that there was an older lady, the grandmother, who had been sick for 8 years and had been unable to get out of her bed for the last 6 years. The mother had wanted us to pray over her. She asked the entire group of us to come in. We quietly walked through the small darkened living room area and in to the bedroom. The beds were hammocks strung up with the exception of one wooden bed made of slats and covered with a thin mattress pad. It took a minute for my eyes to settle on the bed…I was amazed at how many people obviously shared that one bedroom.

On top of the mattress was an elderly, frail woman, curled up in a fetal position. There was not much more to her than dry, translucent skin covering the thinnest of bones. It was a shock to my senses to realize this poor, precious woman had not moved off that wooden pallet in six years. Surprisingly, her mind was alert, and although her voice was weak, she was very aware of our presence. Jay began to pray over her. Without a pre-arranged “plan” in place, one by one, we all began to lay hands on her or on the people around us who were touching her as Jay prayed. His voice became stronger and as he prayed, the presence of the Holy Spirit was overwhelming. The tears began to flow from many of us in that room and as the prayers of intercession made their way to the heavens, there was no doubt that this was the place God had wanted us to be. God’s glory filled that room that day.

Our plans for the day were no longer relevant. What was important was that we heed the guiding of the Holy Spirit and that we intercede on behalf of this woman and her family. I can’t tell you she was healed of her infirmity and I can’t tell you all the members of her family came to know the Lord. I don’t know if either of those occurred or have since. What I do know is God nudged us in to the ditch that day for a very specific purpose and that purpose was that through our prayers, we were to bring His Spirit in to the presence of that family that day. In spite of our own agenda, in spite of our fears and in spite of our attempts to get back on our own schedule, God invited us to be a part of something He was doing that day in those people’s lives. Thankfully, as a result of His gentle nudge, we were obedient to answer His invitation. And as a result, I saw God at work all around me that rainy afternoon. And just as thankfully, God didn't let us stop with that family. We had two more to go see and although we didn't experience anything quite as moving, I pray that our visits proved to be as much of a blessing to them.