Restore to me...

We’ve had a busy couple of weeks since our return. I will try to help you get caught up with us over the next few days…The day after we got home (Wednesday) I was still feeling a bit down. It was hard leaving our family this time and it was hard leaving our friends. I guess ‘cause I knew more of what we were coming back to than I did at this time last year. We have met some wonderful people here and we are still certain this is where God has called us, but there are areas where we feel a definite void and close, intimate friendships like we had in the States have not happened here. Maybe it was that realization that contributed to the heaviness of heart I had as I spent the day unpacking, starting laundry, doing errands and grocery shopping…and basically, just getting settled back in to our Managua mindset.

Our friend, Roger, who lives in Jinotepe, came by to pick up some things they asked us to bring back from the States for them. It’s always good to see Roger and his visit was a good distraction so that I wasn’t dwelling on the previous days’ goodbyes. We talked ministries and politics and then solved the world’s problems in about thirty minutes…don’t know why the world’s leaders are having such a time with it all…Roger, Jim and I got it all knocked out pretty quickly!

The next morning (Thursday), we ran out to the school at Los Cedros so we could touch base with the teacher who filled in for me while we were gone. Although, my mood was a bit better, I still felt a little hollow inside. I didn’t expect to feel quite so down about leaving…or coming back. Our drive on the way out to Los Cedros was pretty quiet…Jim concentrating on avoiding the sink-hole sized pot holes and me just staring out the window, trying to sort out the tumble of emotions I felt inside.

God often brings different song lyrics to my mind and that morning was no exception…the song “Restore to Me” by Mac Powell and Candi Pearson Shelton off the Glory Revealed CD kept running through my head. It was funny that of all songs, that one came to my mind. Although it was one of my favorites on that CD, I hadn’t heard any of those songs off since I had my I-pod stolen last year. But run it did… ”Restore to me, the joy of my salvation, restore to me, the wonders of your love, restore to me the joy of my salvation, restore to me, restore to me”. I think my spirit must have been asking God to do that very thing for me…to restore what I felt had appeared to be missing…joy and wonder.

When we arrived at the school, we found Hannah working in the office on her last days’ lessons. She appeared much as I had pictured her…a fresh-faced, bright and pleasant 20-something young girl. Hannah works for her local YMCA back in the States and is quite used to working with older teens…this was new ground for her. It didn’t take long until we were sitting there chatting away. Hannah said she enjoyed the experience but she learned that she definitely didn’t want to be a teacher. It seems as though some of the kids proved to be a bit of a challenge…I was able to name most of them for her! She seemed a bit surprised…she shouldn’t have been…I am all too familiar with these kids’ and their M.O.s!

I kept waiting for Hannah to tell me how she had fallen in love with the kids. She told me she enjoyed her time there and that it had been a good experience but she was ready to go home. Although she said she would probably return to Nicaragua sometime in the future, we both knew she probably wouldn’t come back to the school. I was a little disappointed that being at the school hadn’t captured her heart as it had mine, but I know God has other plans for her. God’s timing for her to be in Nicaragua was as it should have been. Her time here matched our time away perfectly and now her time was coming to a close.

Hannah finished updating me with what she had worked on with the kids. As she was trying to get her last day’s curriculum finished, I thanked her again for filling in for me and told her good-bye. I asked Pastora if it would be okay to go visit the classrooms for a minute. She assured me it was fine to pop in to say hello.

I was a little apprehensive as I wasn’t sure how the kids would receive us after being gone for a month and a half. There was nothing to worry about…they mobbed us! I expected hugs from some of the girls but was very surprised to get some from many of the boys who normally aren’t that demonstrative. We even had some of the pre-schoolers come running to give hugs! I wasn’t quite sure why that was but figured that because we don’t teach them, maybe it’s easier for them to love us! One of the most touching moments of all was when one of the little girls, holding me tightly, looked up and said, “Usted ha regresado!”…”You’ve come back!” It made me wonder how many in her short little life never have…

No one could have been more surprised at the joy I felt at seeing the children than I was. Their smiles were like brilliant beacons of light as they came running across the schoolyard, shouting my name. They had seen our car pull in to the school and when they saw us walk out of the office towards their school rooms, they all came running, some from their classrooms, some from the restrooms and some from under a group of shade trees. I fought back the unexpected tears as the children danced around us.

One would have thought we were long lost loved ones who hadn’t seen each other in ages…I suppose part of that statement is true. God has done such a work in my heart and I really do love these children. They frustrate me and at times, they irritate me. They are often loud and disruptive when I want them to be quiet and well-behaved. They have found practically every one of my buttons and they know how to push them. Yet God has planted them firmly and deeply in my heart and they are now mine…and I love them more than I had ever expected I could.

Some of them hadn’t changed a bit. Some seemed as though they had grown inches in the six weeks we were gone. Some had cut their hair, some needed to have a haircut. Some were well-groomed, some were way overdue a good scrubbing from head to toe. Some had on clean uniforms, others wore torn and stained t-shirts. Impossibly, some seemed even thinner than they were before we left. All of them were a sight for sore eyes and my hurting heart. I thought each one of them looked beautiful.

Our visit with them was brief but filled with laughter and joy. The children wanted me to come to their respective classrooms but I told them that I would be back the following Tuesday. They groaned. I laughed. And we left.

That day, our ride back to Managua was much lighter in spirit than it normally is. The majority of the time, we are making it at the end of a long, hot, challenging day when we are both drained of energy and patience and we’re ready for peace and quiet and a glass of ice water. That wasn’t the case at all that day. Of course, our time there was short and we weren’t teaching that day, but even if those were the reasons for such a show of affection, it was so wonderful to see the children again and to be greeted with such enthusiasm. Jim and I talked about how sad and heavy-hearted we were when we had to tell our grandchildren good-bye and yet, how two days later, God had replaced that heaviness with buoyant laughter. His gifts are good. Restore to me…

“You have turned my mourning into dancing for me; You have put off my sackcloth and girded me with gladness…” Psalm 30:11