Chicken to go...

Still got the yuks…yuk. I guess I won’t be going to school tomorrow. I’m tired of lying on the couch and bored to tears with doing nothing so thought I would see if I could sit here long enough to get another blog written. I want to tell you about our trip this past Friday.

Several weeks ago, Danelia had asked if we could take her and the kids to Juigalpa to see Danelia’s older brother, Emir, and his family. She offered to give us money to help pay for the gas if we could do this for her. (Of course, we told her that wasn’t necessary). Evidently, they haven’t seen Emir for several years and she wanted them to see Kenneth and Lindsay. Danelia didn’t feel like that long of a bus ride would be good for Kenneth and we agreed. Of course, Miguel wanted to go as Emir is his brother also and naturally, that meant that Elizabeth was going to go. I envisioned that we were going to be looking like a typical Nicaraguan bus!

As the date grew closer, Danelia told us that she felt great shame as she wasn’t able to save the money for the gas. I reminded her that we had already told her that we would take care of the gas and that we had never been to Juigalpa so it would be a great opportunity for us to go visit. With teary eyes, and a big hug, she thanked us and said that she was so thankful to God that He had brought us here. There are times I’m not quite so grateful, but I certainly was at that moment. We planned on Friday, the 21st for our trip.

Although I woke up that morning already not feeling up to par, we arrived at Miguel’s house at 8:00 a.m. – our scheduled time to leave. Danelia and the kids were just arriving. Danelia told me that this past week, Kenneth had to make an unscheduled visit back to the hospital. He was experiencing quite a bit of pain in his groin area, where the tumor is located, through to his back. They gave him some sort of pain medication and sent him home. She said the doctor said it wouldn’t be a problem to make the trip. Danelia said that Kenneth had been pretty listless all week long and she told him that she was going to call us to cancel the trip. She said he begged to go and so after considering it for some time, she decided to go through with it.

Elizabeth came out to tell us that Miguel’s mother had to be taken to the hospital the day before. Evidently, she had become very ill with her diabetes and they gave her a shot of insulin. Only diabetics with money can afford to be on a regular regimen of insulin shots. I asked how she was and Elizabeth said she was in the house, in bed. We all went inside.

After lots of conversing back and forth with various family members, we finally got to see “Mama”. She was crying and told me she was very sick and very weak. I asked Miguel if she had eaten anything. We went in to the kitchen and the only food she had was a pan with a piece of cooked chayote (a type of hard squash) in it. It was left over from her dinner the night before. I asked what else she had. There were two wrinkled and spotted pieces of some sort of fruit…I don’t know what it was.

Jim and I decided she needed to have some food in the house. We asked Miguel if there was a grocery store in town and he told us there was a Pali downtown. Pali, which is owned by Wal-Mart, reminds me of a very small box type of grocery store. It is very much a no-frills type of store and is only one step above the open-air market. The three of us climbed in to the car to go get some groceries.

Jim maneuvered through the crowded streets and we pulled in to the parking lot of Pali. Even the term “parking lot” sounds much more expansive than where we parked…there was space for 4 cars…ours was the only one. Of course, we created a bit of a stir just by our presence.
As we got ready to enter the store, Miguel, leading the way, told me in Spanish that I had to leave my purse with the security guard. I asked, “Leave it?” thinking I must have misunderstood him. He nodded his head in affirmation. I said, “No!” , probably a bit more firmly than was necessary. Miguel stopped and turned around to begin to tell me that I couldn’t take my purse in to the store. Again, I told him, “No…I’m not leaving my purse.” The security guard looked at me and apparently decided it was going to be fruitless to argue with me and waved me on in. Miguel was astounded. I decided to hold on to my purse even tighter than ever.

It didn’t take us long to get our shopping done, buying some canned tuna, fresh vegetables, some apples, whole wheat bread and oatmeal. I had asked Miguel’s mother about buying some chicken for her but she had said that chicken upset her stomach…I don’t think it is chicken that upset her stomach, but rather the oil she fries it in…but that battle was going to have to wait for another day.

We got the groceries unpacked and finally, everyone was ready to go…an hour and fifteen minutes after our arrival. We had originally planned on putting the 3rd seat in the back of the car for the kids, but that left absolutely zero room for the small cooler we had borrowed from Susanna and the portable battery charger that we keep in the car. We could have left the cooler behind but not the charger. We decided to go a different route.

We had put an old blanket and a thicker quilt in the back along with a couple of pillows, making a bed for the kids. That way, if either one of them became tired, they had a place to lie down. I was concerned about the lack of any kind of seat belts for the kids but realized that the third seat doesn’t have those either…we were going to be trusting God to keep those children safe while in our care. We then had room for the cooler and the charger and the kids were super excited to have such a fun space of their own.

I had packed juice boxes, water and soda for the day’s trip, along with some crackers and cookies. I also had made up a fun pack for the kids to help keep them occupied during the 2 hour trip to Juigalpa. The pack had a couple of coloring books, a pack of colors, a small box of colored pencils, a sharpener, a small ruler, small mechanical pencils, 2 erasers and 2 little notepads. The kids could hardly wait for us to get moving.

The next couple of hours went by pretty quickly. The principal road to Juigalpa is certainly not laid out as the crow flies, traveling northeast for about an hour before turning back to the southeast. And although this seems to be the long way around, it not only is a very good road, especially by Nicaraguan standards, it also provides some of the most breathtaking scenery. Traveling into the Amerrisque Mountains, I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of our 2 hour, 75 mile ride.

With Juigalpa being the capital of its region, Chontales, it claims a population of over 70,000 and although the city itself was much larger than we had anticipated, it certainly didn’t have the feel of being a major city. Having to circle the town square, we were pleasantly surprised to find the downtown area to be much cleaner and with a less frenzied feel than Managua.

Emir, the pastor of the Nazarene church there, and his family, live in the parsonage which is attached to the church. The joy of seeing family again was evident on everyone’s faces as they hugged and kissed one another. Emir and Leio (his wife) were especially glad to see the kids. They then ushered us in to the house and immediately set about to make us feel at home.

What warm and hospitable people! Leio gave us freshly made orange juice which was some of the best juice I’ve ever had…I decided not to think about the water issue and as always, prayed that God would protect us from any type of harmful bacteria. We sat out in the gated yard area of the church and discussed the chickens. Miguel said he was going to take one back to Tipitapa. I laughed. I shouldn’t have.

Leio told us that she and a lady from the church were making nacatamales for us. That is a favorite food here in Nicaragua. I think I’ve told you before about those. Leio needed some things from the market and Miguel asked if we wanted to go along. We did and so we made a quick trip to the corner market. It reminded me of a small Pali. On the way back, Leio told me that Miguel and Danelia had shared with them all the help we had been to their families. She told me that she was very grateful that we would show such love to them and that she wanted me to know that we were now part of their family, too. I consider that an honor – Leio is one of the genuinely sweetest people I think I’ve ever met.

We visited for a bit and then Miguel said he wanted to take us to the park. Leio and Emir stayed behind and the rest of us went to a very small, well-kept park, which was built up on a mound on the edge of downtown. Thankfully, it was elevated as it afforded us not only a wonderful breeze but also a great view of a beautiful valley and the opposing Amerrisque mountains. The park’s mature trees gave us respite from the blistering sun. Managua is hot but Juigalpa is even hotter.

About an hour later, we returned to Emir and Leio’s just as Leio was putting the food on the table. We sat down to a wonderful meal of fried chicken, rice, salad and tostones. Once again, we were faced with the choice of being good guests and eating the salad or appearing rude and not touching it. We ate it… at least a good part of it. More prayers. One thing I can say is living here has certainly increased our prayer life!

The food was delicious and after the meal, while everyone else went in to the living room or the kitchen, Emir began talking with us. Although I didn’t understand a lot of what he said, I did get enough of it that we were able to have a lengthy conversation talking about the problems of the church and the country – his and ours. We came to the conclusion that geography has nothing to do with the sin in a man’s heart and that the Solution is the same for all. That was a good example of what a visit is all about here... listening, talking and sharing. It was a great meal followed by a great time learning more about one another.

Miguel came in to the dining room to tell us that we were once again leaving, this time we were going to visit the zoo! Jim and I had talked about possibly taking the kids there but then decided not to mention it since we knew this was supposed to be a family visit. It appeared as though we were going to go after all! Leio came with us and I couldn’t help but laugh at how we were beginning to look like one of those clown cars at the circus when eight of us piled out at the run-down little zoo. There is no parking lot there and it sits at the end of a paved road in a residential area of town. It looks so much like every other fenced-in area that we almost drove right by it.

Jim bought the tickets for the whole group…75 cords ($3.68 for six adults and two children) and in we went. The first “exhibit” consisted of several small bird cages with finches, parakeets, etc. Hmmm. This was going to be interesting. The zoo is old and very bare-bones but held a fair variety of animals. It was much more interesting than the zoo between Managua and Masaya. We saw several types of apes and gorillas, wild cats including lions, tapir, snakes, toucans, deer, an assortment of birds, coyotes, and such. The sad thing was that most are kept in wired in cages with concrete floors and nothing else. Not much of a life.

Although it wasn't the best zoo we've ever visited, I can say the kids loved it! After the zoo, we returned to the house and decided it was time for us to leave. Miguel and Emir went out back to the courtyard area and the rest of us followed. Miguel went one direction and Emir went another. All of a sudden they both started chasing a white rooster, lunging and grabbing. At one point, Miguel turned around with a handful of tail feathers. I realized, even as I was laughing at the “floor show” going on right in front of me that we were going to be taking an extra passenger back with us! Talk about a zoo!

Finally, Emir captured the rooster and as soon as he did, the rooster immediately calmed down and even seemed content to be held by him. I wonder if that rooster knew he was soon going to be relocated to a new address, several hours down the road. I told Emir and Miguel that not only was our trip to Juigalpa a first, but so was having a live chicken as a passenger in our car. They smiled but couldn’t seem to quite get the novelty of it all. Miguel was just pleased as punch with his new acquisition.

Leio presented me with a tortilla basket, covered in material and appliquéd with the traditional Nica girl. She also handed us a bag of chicken nacatamales for us to take with us. She told me that now that we knew our way to her house, that she was praying that God would bring us back there again. Emir gathered us in a circle and prayed over us, asking God to bless us and thanking Him for our visit, praying for protection for our trip home and a speedy return. What a special send-off. What special people. We were already blessed.

And speaking of blessings, the trip home was blessedly uneventful with the rooster staying quiet on the floor board of the backseat. I’m assuming he was cozy and comfortable in his coarsely woven “sleeping” bag...an old rice bag. We heard giggles and laughter from the back of the car until it became dark. The combination of the lack of daylight, the monotonous drone of the car coupled with its hypnotic swaying and a very long day proved to be too much for Kenneth and Lindsay and they were soon sound asleep, snuggled down in to their pillows and blankets.

We didn’t stay long at Miguel’s upon our return to Tipitapa…we still had another hour’s drive ahead of us. We finally pulled in to our driveway around 9:00 p.m., tired but happy. We had spent the day with good friends and made some new ones…and we are one step closer to being full-fledged Nicas now that we’re carrying livestock in our vehicle! I have to say that getting "chicken to go" now has a new meaning for us!

Feed my sheep...

Earlier I shared about having a case of the yuks. It hasn’t gotten any better as the day has worn on. This rash of flu-like symptoms at school was the impetus for one of the big things we were able to be part of ten days ago. There is a family of four children at school who are very special to my heart. Joselving is fourteen years old and in the fourth grade. He struggles with English and obviously, with other subjects, but he so badly wants to please. If he sees us arrive on Thursday mornings, he will run to help us carry our day’s load of bags, books, water, etc.

A few months ago, he had scraped up his knee pretty badly during a soccer game at school. The blood was coming through his pants and so I took him to the pila (the outdoor sink) back by the bathrooms and we washed his knee with soap and water. That was new to him and he wasn’t real excited about using the soap, but he was a trooper, gritting his teeth and blinking back tears. I explained to him that it was very important that he keep the area as clean as possible so that he wouldn’t get an infection. I had some large band-aids and a small envelope of antibacterial cream. I bandaged his knee and asked if he had band-aids at home. I already knew the answer before he shook his head “no”. I gave him the extras and the rest of the cream and reminded him again how important it was to keep it clean. His knee healed without incident and a bond of trust began to develop with Joselving. His behavior improved immensely in both Jim’s class and mine and he now makes certain to visit with us outside of class for a few minutes each day. He often has headaches and he eats the thrice-weekly school provided lunch like he's not had a meal in days. When I would ask him what he had for breakfast, he would act like he didn't understand. I had just chalked it up to being a growing boy and being embarrassed about eating so ravenously. Lately, I had started to see a bit of rebelliousness and hardness in his manner with some of the other kids, although most of the time, he was fine with me. I had noticed his grades were dropping but I attributed that to too much socializing with his buddies and not paying enough attention in class.

Joselving has a sister in third grade whose name is Talifer. She’s a little beauty and loves to laugh and tease. She has been one of my “huggers” from the very beginning. Like Joselving, she’s not the best student, but she tries and her face will light up when she does well on one of her papers. She loves the inexpensive bracelets and necklaces I brought back from our last visit to the States. She will lightly touch each stone or bead, her gentle manner belying the tough little gal who lives beneath her sweet exterior. Talifer fights to make the best of the life she’s been given. She often "mothers" the other children. She's the dark haired girl on the left in the group of three in the front.

There are two more students in this family – the first grade twins, Sergio and Genesis. Sergio is all boy, rough and tumble and quick to fight. Genesis whispers and giggles and pouts when she is unhappy. Sergio is the leader, Genesis walks in his shadow. Both are quick to defend and protect the other; both have the family smile and both join Joselving and Talifer in having a piece of my heart. They are often sick so it's not at all unusual to have one or both missing from class.

Their father is Manuel Luis and he works at the school as a janitor. We greet him every day, shaking his hand, asking how he is, trying to understand his lengthy answers. The familiar smile appears and disappears very quickly, depending on how things are that day. He has told us he would like to work for us. We have told him we have no work for him. I think we all wish it were differently.

Three weeks ago, the flu that is going through the school, hit the family, with each of the children gradually succumbing to its effects. It was like watching a slow motion wall of human dominoes falling, one at a time, getting better for a short period of time, only to be knocked back down again. It began with the twins, then Joselving and finally, the quiet little fighter, Talifer. We could see the worry on Manuel Luis’ face as we would ask about the children.

Thursday, a week ago, I had to run to the restroom before my first class began. There is one bathroom which is designated for the teachers which sits right beside two others, one for the boys and one for the girls. They are of block construction without any kind of insulation so sound travels quite well. It was not difficult to hear that there was someone who violently ill in the girls’ bathroom. When I exited the teacher’s bathroom, I saw Manuel Luis standing quietly outside. The door opened just as I was asking who was sick. There stood Talifer, pale and sweating profusely. I reached out my arms to her and she came to my side, wrapped her arms around me and began to cry. She was feverish and shaky.

I asked Manuel Luis if there was someone at the house so that Talifer could go home and lay down. He looked down and shook his head no. He told Talifer to wash her face and go back to class. I immediately felt frustration. She was sick and she needed to go to bed. Talifer and I walked together to class. I asked her what she had eaten that morning, thinking that perhaps something hadn’t agreed with her. She told me “nada”. Nothing. I asked about her dinner the night before. She looked at me hesitantly, shrugged her shoulders but didn’t really answer. I felt an unease about her vagueness that stayed with me throughout the class period.

Later, I had an opportunity to talk with Carla, the teacher. We discussed how sick Talifer was and Carla agreed that Talifer needed to go home but she explained that it was better for her to be at school than to be at home alone. I asked where the children’s mother worked, thinking maybe we could get word to her so that she could come home to take care of Talifer. Carla told me that the mother had left some time ago to go live with her brother in Managua and that Manuel Luis was struggling to take care of the children. I shook my head in disbelief but the pieces began to fall in to place. The vague answers about meals, the unkempt appearance with the children often wearing torn and dirty clothes and the change in attitudes all were a direct result of what was happening in the home.

“Why did she leave? What about the children?” I asked Carla. She shrugged her shoulders and then told me that the mother doesn’t care about her children. That she is tired of the responsibility of the children, tired of living in Los Cedros with her husband, tired of her life...Managua was the greener pasture in her mind.

I was furious and heart-broken all at the same time. Carla began to tell me about the children in that class alone whose parent or parents have left them. Some are left for a grandparent(s) to raise, some with an aunt, some with older brothers or sisters. All of them bear the scars of abandonment. I could feel the Mama Bear in me begin to raise her hackles. These were children who should be cherished and nurtured. Instead, so many of them are treated as a burden or an obligation. So many are neglected or treated harshly. Such treatment gives a message which intrinsically shapes how the children view themselves and the world. No wonder they are so difficult to handle sometimes.

I couldn’t quit thinking about the situation and after class, went off by myself to pray. It wasn’t long before I went looking for Pastora, the director of the school. I asked her to tell me about what was going on with Manuel Luis and his family. She basically repeated the story Carla had told me earlier but added more details which confirmed that these children were not thriving either physically or emotionally. She had said that Manuel Luis had come to the school asking for a job and although they didn’t need help, they felt as though they needed to hire him to help with the family situation as much as possible. He had quit working a better job in Managua in order to stay in Los Cedros to take care of his children.

I felt a strong compulsion to intervene somehow but Jim was out at the garden and I couldn’t talk with him about it. I could see him over Pastora’s shoulder and it took only a few seconds to realize he would back me 100% on whatever I felt God was leading us to do. I asked Pastora if we could contribute some food to the family. I told her I couldn’t bring the mother home but we could help with some basic foods to help get some food in those children’s tummies right away. I asked if she could make a list for me of how much we needed to buy to provide enough of the staples for a week.

She was very happy that we were offering to do that and said that she knew Manuel Luis would be extremely appreciative. I told her that we would bring the food to the school the next morning but I didn’t want him or anyone else to know that we were the ones bringing the food. She wasn’t sure why and kept trying to talk me out of that. I told her that God had burdened my heart for this family and that I felt as though He was making the need known to us and that we were to meet it. I wanted Manuel Luis to give the glory to the Lord for His provisions and not to make the mistake of thinking it was the Americans who were responsible.

I explained we were blessed to be a blessing. That she understood. She’s the wife of a pastor and she has heard it many times. I just think she was surprised that we didn’t want the recognition. I have learned over the years that the blessings stop when we try, so to speak, to steal God’s thunder. That’s the last thing we want or need to have happen here. We are dependent on the Lord’s provisions ourselves and we would love for everyone to know the joy we experience when we are unexpectedly surprised just at a crucial time by His blessings. We especially wanted Manuel Luis and the children to know that joy…to know that nothing escapes the eyes of the Lord, that He hears their cries and that He cares for His children. That’s food for the soul that trumps any food with which we may fill our bellies.

The next morning, when Freddy came to work, we asked him to go with us to the market and then to Los Cedros to help us with the food. It was really kind of funny when we got to the market. Although this is market is not one I feel very comfortable at, the particular “store” we were at is very open and so I tend to not feel quite so claustrophobic.

Freddy took my list from my hand and told me he would take care of ordering the food. I told him I could do it and that I wanted him to help Jim with loading the car when we got the food. He wouldn’t hear of it. He positioned me between he and Jim…I guess he thought I would be “safe” there. Poor Freddy doesn’t understand this curious ol’ gringa and it wasn’t long before I was standing right by his side, fully involved in the decision making of the quantity and quality of the rice being selected. I guess he decided this was not a battle worth fighting and so together, we ordered all the food on the list plus some other items which I felt would be helpful.

While there, we saw some American friends who were buying staples for an eight day trip up the Rio Coco. It is a day’s drive to the river, which is up by Honduras, and then a two day trip by boat to reach the villages where they would be ministering to the churches they’ve built relationships with in the past. I’m always in awe of these guys and would love to tag along some time…the main problem I see with that is they’re on a river in a very narrow, wobbly boat. Since I can’t swim a stroke, absolutely am terrified of the river snakes and crocodiles, I think it’s probably best that we’ve not been invited to be a part of this great adventure! We visited for just a few minutes but both of our groups were intent on our own transactions and so we each returned to monitoring the weighing of our purchases.

We left with 20# each of rice and beans, 15# of sugar, 6 liters of oil, 5 packets of salt, 3# of oatmeal, 5 cans of tuna, 2# of tortilla flour, a case of dry soup, a can of powdered milk, 6 rounds of detergent (for hand washing clothes)and a fair amount of potatoes, onions, carrots and bananas. The food filled a huge rice bag with the veggies and bananas packed separately.

When we arrived at the school, thankfully, no one was in the office except Pastora. We unloaded the groceries without being detected and then took Freddy on a quick tour of the school. Before we left, once again, Pastora asked if she could tell Manuel Luis where the food came from. She really felt that he should thank us. I tried again to explain the “whys” of our decision. Freddy helped me get that message across as I had told him earlier that we didn’t want the family to know who donated the food. He knows us well enough now that although he may not understand why we choose to do something a certain way, he honors our decisions. Being his employers helps with that, I’m sure. Pastora shrugged her shoulders and said it was as we wished. And so we left.

Honestly, the few times I thought about it that weekend, my thoughts were more on the health of those children. I was praying that the food would fill their tummies and that hope would fill their hearts.

I didn’t even think about it that following Tuesday when we first arrived at the school. After my first class, Pastora said she wanted to talk to us. She sat down and began a very lengthy story…much of which I didn’t understand but I did get enough of it to figure out that Manuel Luis was overcome with gratitude. Pastora said that Sunday morning, the whole family was in church…including the mother!

Evidently, she got word that the house was filled with food and she came home. She told Pastora that she was ashamed she had left. Pastora took the opportunity to stress that the children needed their mother and that they had been very sick. She told her that her place was at home with her children and not chasing after another life in Managua. Pastora said she “counseled” with her for a long time and told her American missionaries were taking better care of her children than she was. So much for stressing our wish for anonymity. I can only imagine how that whole conversation went. I truly hope that the parts I didn’t get told of a promise to walk alongside a troubled soul with the goal being a completed family honoring Jesus.

Pastora thanked us for being obedient to God because she said the mother would not have returned otherwise. I’m not so sure. I know God is bigger than our obedience and I know it is His will for this family to be united and bring glory to His Name.

My take on all this is that through YOUR generosity and YOUR obedience to God we were able to be part of His plan to minister to the physical needs of this family, especially these children. Hopefully, because of your gifts, this particular situation will enable the mother to hear God’s call for repentance and restoration over the community’s voice of condemnation. One is sweet while the other scalds. I have a two-fold reason for sharing this with you: first of all so that you know you are making a difference here and you are touching lives; secondly, I share this with you so that you will join us in praying healing and restoration for this family. I thank you for both and I know there are four children who would also thank you for the first and would be forever grateful for the second.

Prelude...

I don’t know where time goes anymore. It seems like each day is coming a bit quicker than the day before. A lot has happened the last 10 days and I wish I would have made the time to write about everything as it occurred. There were a few “big events” these past few weeks punctuated with lots of smaller things. I think that’s life regardless the address. I’ll start with the “little” things.

As I write this, I am being serenaded by lots of loud snapping, crackling and popping going on. It appears as though a third house is going to be built in the woods behind our house. There are 4 men out there using machetes to chop down trees to make a clearing. They are then dragging the smaller branches over to a fire where the moisture in the green leaves explodes in to nature’s amplified version of a bowl of Rice Krispies newly doused with milk.

Right now, Jim is out cleaning the battery cable connections that have corroded to the point the car wouldn’t start this morning. This happens fairly frequently. I think we’re going to break down and buy a new battery tomorrow and hopefully, we will be able to find some new battery connectors at the same time.

We were thinking the next big purchase would be new tires and shocks but I guess the car is going to dictate those priorities. I know I’ve said this before and there hasn’t been anything happen to change my mind…I HATE car problems! Especially, living here. Even in the States, I felt anxious when we had something happen with one of our cars but thankfully, we were always blessed with honest and extremely capable mechanics. Someone needs to give Rick and Millard a hug for us and tell them we miss them tremendously!

Car issues here take on a different hue…for not only is our car our sole mode of transportation, it’s also our mobile sanctuary in many respects. Hopefully, our mechanic will soon return from Canada as the list of items needing attention seems to be growing by the day. The electrical system continues to give us problems and now, I think the motor on Jim’s window is about to quit. That’s important as mine is already fritzy and it’s much safer to transact business through a rolled-down window versus opening the door. It’s surprising how often we need to roll down our windows…paying a window washer, buying a paper, changing money or exchanging a friendly greeting with one of Nicaragua’s finest men in blue. I hope you realize that last was a bit of a tongue-in-cheek comment.

Right now, although the a/c is working somewhat, it’s still not right. The good news is the radio and c/d player finally worked again for a day which allowed the c/d player to regurgitate my John MacArthur cd that I’ve had stuck in there for weeks. The speedometer doesn’t work, the gas gauge doesn’t work and the gas tank release lever is now acting pretty iffy. And all this is apparently normal for a vehicle here! I guess I shouldn’t have too high of expectation from an eleven year old car that takes a beating just going to the grocery store. When I think about some of the roads we force it to travel, I suppose it’s no wonder that the squeaks, rattles, clanks and clunks have replaced the hard Latin beat that occasionally makes a noisy appearance from the dash. It’s really kind of sad how much we take for granted until it’s either jeopardized or no longer available.

Let’s see what else happened this past week? Jim apparently was bitten by some sort of insect or spider whose venom disagreed with his system. He woke up one morning with his right hand looking like a blown up latex glove. He didn’t have any pain and only very minor itching but it looked horrible. We kept an eye on it to make sure the swelling didn’t climb up his arm and that he didn’t have any tracks appear. Praise God he didn’t have any trouble breathing! We waited a few days and tried some Benadryl but it was pretty unnecessary as he didn’t seem to have itching that needed to be controlled, it just felt tight when he would try to bend it. It took about a week but his hand is looking much more normal this morning. Good thing…I don’t know how well he would have done fussing with the battery with one good hand and the other resembling an attached miniature dirigible!

I’ve been staying pretty healthy up until the last few days. Now, I’ve got a really, nasty head cold and apparently, another visit from my little intestinal friend which likes to stir things up. I’m hoping the cold stays in my head and doesn’t migrate to my chest. As far as the intestinal thing, I think Imodium is about to become part of my day’s routine for the next day or so. I’m not surprised I have this…the same thing has been running rampant through the school along with some other kind of bug. There are so many children that are sick right now. Some with vomiting, severe headaches, diarrhea and high fever and others, coughs replace the vomiting and diarrhea but all have the headaches and fever. Forgive me if this all TMI (too much information) for some of you, but honestly, we’re in a culture now where bodily functions are not always concealed behind a six-paneled hardwood door. More often than not, the walls of an outhouse are black plastic or on the higher end of the scale, old wooden planks or concrete blocks. Privacy tends to be more of a concept than a reality.

Tylenol and a driving desire to get another blog written is the reason I’m sitting here instead of crashing in front of a fan. Thankfully, God has instilled in me a strong will in some areas…Jim would say that it’s pure stubbornness. Right now, I’m praying that God will either strengthen me or rile up that stubbornness enough that I can share at least a couple of events that we were so privileged to experience the last week or so. I will tell you about the first one in the next blog which I will hopefully get posted tonight. Right now, I’m going to eat some soup and crackers so consider this a prelude to the next blog. Talk to you again, soon.

Folks...

When I share our days with you, sometimes I think I concentrate too much on the “tasks” we may have had to do and not enough on the people we encounter on the way. The people are why we’re here. They make our day…and they break our hearts. I want to try to give you a better picture of who we see just in the course of a normal day.

Saturday, we had our second M.A.T.H. class in Tipitapa. Those of you who have received this month’s printed newsletter know what I’m talking about, but in case you don’t, let me explain. This acronym stands for Means to Acquaint others with Truth and Hope and that’s what we’re wanting this English class and Bible study to ultimately achieve…we want it to be the tool we use to introduce others to Jesus Christ.

We left the house early as we had errands to do before our class in Tipitapa. On our way to our first stop, we have to pass by our fruit man. Although we didn’t stop by there on Saturday, I want to tell you about him. He’s a short, stocky guy, who always wears a ball cap and has a little corner fruit and vegetable stand not too far from our house. We pass him every day we leave the house. He and his elderly father tend the stand and he was one of the first people we met when we first moved here…although, now that I think about it, I don’t even know his name. Shame on me.

What I can say is the first time we got up our nerve to go visit him, shortly after we moved to our first house, I was able to tell him I wanted bananas…not too difficult seeing that the word is the same in both Spanish and English, just pronounced a bit differently. The rub came when I couldn’t understand how much he was telling me I owed him. So I did exactly what I never should have even thought about doing…I held out a handful of money and let him pick out what he needed. He chose a few coins and I’m assuming he was honest about it as he gave a few coins back to me in change . He looked at me for a second and then told me very simply and slowly that I needed to learn to speak Spanish!

Good advice…and since then, I’ve learned enough workable Spanish to buy fruit from him and pay him what is due…without holding out a palm full of coins. I think I was more embarrassed by the chastisement than I was worried about him taking several cordobas more than he should have. Either way, it was a good prompting to get me to start learning this language and its money system.

When we stop to buy fruit from this ornery little man, we pull up in the one-car opening off the main street and Jim rolls down my window. The fruit man always greets us with a gleam in his eye but with a very serious face. He reaches in the car to shake hands. Saying he is shaking my hand is being generous…his hand is limp and doesn’t even close around mine…I’m always a bit afraid I might have hurt him when I realize I’ve grasped his hand firmly.

He is a business man through and through and he loves to tease, although it takes awhile and some work before we see a smile. We usually stop to buy bananas, pineapple or watermelon, but the fruit man always tries to talk us in to either a larger quantity than we’ve requested or something else in addition to our “order”. After some bantering back and forth, we finally are rewarded with his smile and he walks to his stand to bag up our order for us. Our fruit requests may change, but the process is always the same…and I find some sense of comfort in that. Life here for us is so unpredictable that I find I welcome the “routine” things…like having to banter and barter for our fruit!

The corner where we turn to go in to Managua is a busy corner. Not only is our fruit guy there and the corner where we turn to go to the bakery, it’s also the corner where our gas station is located…a Shell station, at that! Of course, like all the gas stations here in Nicaragua, it is full service and like many of the places we frequent on a regular basis, they “know us” there. We not only get our gas there, but it’s also the place we buy our ice as they carry “clean” ice.

They are always so friendly and helpful there…and very patient with slow language learners, like ourselves! There used to be an old advertising jingle that said “You can trust your car to the man who wears the star”, referring to the Texaco stations with their trademark star. We have used both and I will say that in our opinion, “our” Shell station attendants are all stars! Even though we didn’t stop to get gas that morning, several of the young men who work there saw us driving by and gave us a smile and a wave…a good send-off for the day!

Our first stop was to get money changed. We have two different places where we go to have that done but it happened to be with Mario that day. He always has a smile for us and a hand-shake. He recognizes our car when we pass by and waves every time he spots us. Our first trip to see him upon our return from the States, Mario let us know that he had missed us and wanted to know where we had been. That was a warm and fuzzy…it’s nice to know you’ve been missed.

Mario’s location is very convenient for us as we pass him every time we have to go down in to Managua. He sits in the same spot every day but Sunday, waving his wad of money at the cars passing by. His “office” is a plastic chair placed under a shady tree that is at the edge of a small parking area of a building that shares a beauty shop and some other little business. His assistant quietly sits in the background, acting as his guard and his runner.

The procedure is simple…we pull off to the side of the busy road, Jim puts on the flashers and rolls down my window, Mario walks up to my side of the car and we tell Mario how much American money we want changed to cordobas. He begins his rapid-fire counting of his bills and hands the money to Jim, who repeats the counting…only this time, it goes much slower.

Meanwhile, I’ve handed Mario our bills and he carefully examines each one of them, looking for any kind of marks, tears or significant wear, none of which would be acceptable. Mario then shows us on his little hand-held calculator the total of how much we are to receive and proceeds to finish out the transaction. We thank each other, wish one another a good day and off we go. The whole thing is simple and quick…far more pleasant and efficient than going in to one of the brick and mortar banks.

Our next stop was our copy place to get the copies made for our day’s lessons. The copy place is

one of maybe a dozen other similar places, all in a row, located across the street from one of the city’s universities. I’ve told you before how busy it is. Recently, there has been an older man, obviously of little means, who has been acting as a parking attendant in the congested little parking lot. His clothes are ragged and look as though they need a good washing. He always has a dirty, red rag with him that he uses to direct traffic or to wipe down a customer’s car.

I don’t believe he’s paid by any of the businesses, but rather works for any tips he might receive or perhaps beg, which are few and far between from most of the folks there. It’s not hard to see life is difficult for him. Because we have tipped him the few times we’ve seen him there, he now, not only recognizes our car, but also tries to give us the best parking spot available…and if a spot is not available, he then “creates” one for us right smack dab in the lane of traffic.

This life-worn man always greets us with a wide, mostly toothless smile, extending his not-too-particularly clean hand to Jim for a handshake and then, after exchanging his greetings with Jim, he bows his head and tips his hat to me in a very dignified manner.

I’ve told you a little bit before about the people who run the copy shop. They’re a young couple, I assume they’re married, who work hard at their business. She is a very pretty woman with a warm and welcoming smile, who seems as genuinely nice as she is attractive. He is a small man, as most Nicaraguan men are, but he's muscular, like someone who lifts weights...and he wears tight fitting shirts which spotlight his physique. He kind of reminds me of a little banty rooster who wants to make sure he's huffed and puffed big enough to get a good bluff in on anyone who might want to mess around his chicken coop! That's probably not the most flattering analogy but I think it's probably pretty accurate.

We’re regulars there now and are greeted as friends when we go in, again with handshakes and smiles. They have even begun to relax a little bit more in front of us and Saturday we were privy to them teasing one another. It was neat to see this serious, hard-working couple having a bit of fun with each other, smiling and eyes twinkling. We always enjoy going in there but Saturday, there was more than smiles, there was laughter and that did all our hearts good.

As usual, when we left, Jim gave the parking man a tip for watching our car. The man continues his service to us by “helping” Jim back out of the parking spot and then sends us off with a wave. This tattered gentleman has captured my attention and I hope to get to know him better. I’m sure he has a story to share and I would like to be able to share with him. Please, Lord, grant me favor in learning this language!

After the copy place, we headed over to Metro Centro to eat some lunch at the food court. We went back to the far corner to one of our favorite “fast food” places…a Chinese food restaurant. Another place where the people know us although we don’t go there very often anymore now that we don’t have language lessons in that part of town. The women behind the counter smile at us and before I can even finish ordering my usual sweet and sour chicken, one of them is dishing it up while another is asking if we want our soda in a bottle or can and a third is asking if Jim is getting the same thing! Wow... I guess we are pretty predictable!

Chinese food here is interesting. It’s prepared by Nicas with Nica vegetables…many more vegetables than chicken, but that’s okay, it’s delicious! And of course, there’s rice…mounded up on the plate. It’s fried rice but it still has a Nica flavor, there’s no doubt. This is accompanied by three of the tiniest little wontons I think you’ll find. The filling is a little dab of some sort of minced meat…it has a bit of an odd flavor. I’ve eaten it several times before and have yet to become sick so I’m good with whatever it is. I think I’m much better off not knowing everything I stick in my mouth…as long as it’s not my foot…I know how it tastes and it’s not appetizing, believe me!

Time was flying by so as soon as we finished lunch, we hurried out to our car ‘cause we had one more stop to make before we headed to Tipitapa. There is a La Colonia that is close to Metro Centro so we ran in there. We didn’t have much time so we buzzed through, buying beans, rice, oil, tuna, fresh fruit, veggies and chicken...and a bag of ice. We were going to surprise Miguel, Elizabeth and Danelia with some much-needed groceries!

That morning, we had stopped by Susanna’s house to take Pixie home (she had come to our house the night before for a “sleep-over”…okay, we might be slipping a bit here…I know she’s a dog…) and while there, we borrowed a small cooler from her. We knew we would be buying some chicken and we would need to keep it cold for about three hours.

Just as Jim had finished emptying the bag of ice in to the cooler and placing the chicken in there, the black clouds that had been rolling in suddenly boiled over. It didn’t just rain; it came down in torrents, so much so that traffic came to a standstill. There were stalled cars and flooding streets and it all happened in just minutes. I called Miguel to tell him that we were creeping along on the North Highway and that we would most likely be late. Just the edge of the storm had passed through there already and he knew how heavy it had been there so he had a good idea of what we were facing.

Really, the deluge part of the storm didn’t last that long although it did continue to rain pretty hard. Traffic may come to a halt in these kinds of rains, but life certainly doesn’t. Here are just a few examples of how hard life is here…even the rains don’t stop people from doing what they have to do. I’m afraid the quality of the pictures isn’t that great but hopefully, you can get a pretty good idea of what we saw that day. We were several cars back in the line of traffic but up ahead, I could see up somebody out in the rain, going from car to car. It was a little boy, out begging…even when it was raining relentlessly. Once traffic started going again, he sought what little bit of shelter he could find next to the building waiting for the next group of cars to be stopped by the red light. Rain is no respecter of the hungry.

The next photo is of a street vendor on the North Highway. Normally, the corners are crawling with vendors and window washers but all of them had run for cover from the storm…save this lone woman, standing there waiting for the next string of cars to come, in hopes of selling her slices of mango. I wondered how many hungry mouths she had to feed to keep her motivated enough to stand out in the street in such a storm…

This picture is a bit difficult to make out. We were at a red light when we noticed a man with his horse cart on a grassy little median area. It was still raining, although not nearly as heavy as it had been just a few minutes prior to that. The old man was cutting the grass with his machete…he wasn’t doing it as part of his job…he was doing it to have grass to feed his much-too-thin horse.

These are the kinds of images we see every day as we travel the roads here. We can’t escape the poverty as it is everywhere we look. Each time we think we’ve seen it all, God pulls back the veil of privilege and abundance that blinds our eyes and allows us to see what life is like for so many people here. It still makes my breath catch and my heart pound.

What would we do if we had to live like that? Could we even survive such a life? What astounds me now is not so much the amount of poverty or the degree of it, but more so, the resourcefulness and the resiliency of those who live it, day in and day out. I would venture to say that these ordinary folks are probably a lot more extraordinary than what we might give them credit for being.

God is in the details...

Do you ever wonder if God really cares about the details in your life? At some point, haven’t most of us thought that God was interested in the big things…like salvation, character-building, obedience, etc. but that He must view much of our “smaller stuff” as insignificant? If so, I want to help you change your mind.

Now granted, God does care about our salvation…so much so that He provided the only way possible for us to spend eternity with Him. He also cares about our character…if you doubt that, then you haven’t had someone cut you off in traffic, conversation or remuneration. And obviously, He wants us to be obedient because He wants what is best for us and who would know that better than the One Who created us?

So, that being said, why do I believe He cares about what we might consider “small stuff”? It sounds trite…I suppose, sometimes, truth does sound that way…but have you looked around you? Creation is no small thing but there are countless moments of joy in observing it. He has provided us a feast for all our senses and it’s ours for the taking…in big bites and in tasty morsels.

I want to tell you about something that some might consider a “small-thing” situation and I hope you will see God’s hand in it as clearly as I do…and I hope you will join me in praising Him for His love and caring for “small stuff”.

When we were State-side, one of the things I wanted to do was to find graduation gifts for our sixth graders at Los Cedros. Their graduation is the end of November and I want to make it special for them…hopefully, all will qualify. Now, I say that with mixed emotions. I want to see these kids successful and move on to the next grade. The downside of that is they will be leaving our school and going to the public school there in Los Cedros. That makes me sad on several different levels.

I was excited to find different graduation themed items on sale…things like treat bags, rubber bracelets with “Class of 2009” on them and a couple of other small things to stick in their graduation bags. But I was still looking for their main gift. Because of the number of kids in the class, I was trying to find things that were inexpensive but would still carry a message of value and caring to them. I have to ask the Lord to help me put a check on doing things like that as I could easily spend way more than I should. I guess that’s my love language…gifts…’cause I sure love giving them!

I visited all of my usual State-side bargain-hunting places but just couldn’t find the right gift for the girls. Then, I happened to get on-line and I visited Bath and Body Works website. I found the cutest little purse mirrors and matching coin purses. They were on clearance and I was thrilled. I was going to be able to get one of each for each of the girls and still stay within my budget! I ordered the amount I needed plus enough for gifts for the teachers at the school, Elizabeth and Mary, Freddy’s wife. The order came and they were perfect…just exactly what I was looking for!

Not that this has anything to do with the story, necessarily, but just so you know I didn’t forget the boys, Jim and I found small tri-fold Velcro billfolds for them. I plan on taking a picture of each of them plus one of the entire class and putting it in their billfolds as I will do with the girls coin purses. They will love this!

Well, when we got back from the States, first thing we did was to pass out all the gifts to everyone which included the mirrors and coin purses for Elizabeth, Mary and the teachers. Of course the graduating students won’t get theirs until November. I gave the teachers their gifts our first morning back at school…hours before my sixth grade class would start.
It was great seeing all the kids that day and as I was mobbed when I walked in to third grade, my first class of the day, it took me a few minutes to realize that there was a new student in class. We were well over halfway through the school year so I was a bit surprised but I didn’t think much more about it…until I walked in to my sixth grade class and there sat another new student, a sweet girl named Josseling! The fact that I wouldn’t have enough mirrors and coin purses for graduation hadn’t yet registered.

When that news bomb exploded in my head, I couldn’t get to the computer fast enough to get back on-line with Bath and Body Works. I had to order another mirror and coin purse! I think there was an audible thud when my hopes fell…the mirrors and coin purses were no longer on line. I was just sick.

I scrolled down to the bottom of the page and the words “Contact Us” fairly jumped out at me. I thought I would give it a shot and try e-mailing Customer Service to see if perhaps they could help me locate one more mirror and coin purse. I explained the situation and said that if they could locate a set for me and let me know how to pay for it (since it was no longer offered on-line), then I would have Mandy take care of that part. I also mentioned that since we had a team coming the end of September, that someone could bring them down to me so that I would have them in time for graduation.

When I got a response from B&BW, it was a “canned” response, basically telling me that if I wanted a charitable contribution, then I needed to submit the request along with a tax-exempt number to the appropriate department. What??? I hadn’t asked for a charitable contribution…I had asked to buy one more mirror and coin purse. I hate to admit it, but it irritated me that the person who had responded to my request, obviously hadn’t even read it all the way through.
So…I replied by e-mailing again. This time, I said that I thought there had been a misunderstanding and that I wasn’t asking for any type of contribution but that I would appreciate that whoever would receive my e-mail would at least read it all the way through…that it was very important for me to try to locate one more mirror and coin purse. I really didn’t expect to hear anything any different.

But, I did. I received a very nice apology from someone else in Customer Service for the initial response. As I read on, I was hoping that she was going to tell me how I could go about purchasing the needed items. That didn’t happen. Instead, after the very nice apology, which wasn’t necessary but appreciated, she told me that those items were clearance items and no longer available. That time, the thud was even louder…and it reverberated all the way through me. I wanted to just sit there and bawl.

I didn’t know what I was going to do. I thought I could probably find another small mirror and I could find another little coin purse but the thing was it was going to be different. That part, I hated. I wanted Josseling’s things to be the same as the other girls. I didn’t want there to be any misconstrued sense of favoritism regardless which form it would take…whether the other girls might think Josseling had received something “better” or whether Josseling might think she had received something “less”. I know this may seem like a big deal over something that you may not think is terribly important…but it is going to be important to Josseling and the rest of the girls. Life here is filled with disappointment…and that’s not always a bad thing. I just didn’t want this to be one of those lessons.

I was at a complete loss. I sat there just staring at the computer. I took a deep breath and then began to pray. I told God that I just didn’t know what to do and I needed Him to do what no one else could do…and that was find a mirror and coin purse for Josseling. And then, I did something I rarely do…I quit worrying about it.

Several days later, I received yet another e-mail from someone at Bath and Body Works. She told me that my e-mail had crossed her desk and that the items were indeed seasonal items and had been discontinued. She also told me that she had called several of their outlet stores and had located the mirrors and a different coin purse (but one that would work) at an outlet store in Wisconsin. She also personally called Mandy and gave her the info so that Mandy could call the store in Wisconsin and order the items. I was absolutely shocked! I had received an e-mail from an angel…I just knew it! Whether celestial or earthly, it didn’t matter, in my eyes, she was definitely an angel! I could feel those pesky tears starting to well up again…this time in awe of how much the Lord of the universe cared about a mirror and a coin purse for a little sixth grade girl in Nicaragua. I immediately replied to the e-mail with a very heartfelt thank you.

Are you wowed yet? If not…think about it for a bit. And if so…wait…this gets better. This special lady from B & BW, whose name is Pat, then sent me another e-mail a few days later, apologizing for not being able to find the exact coin purse I wanted! She also said she wanted to make me her Customer of the Week and send me a coupon for 40% off my next purchase in a Bath and Body Works store! This woman was going above and beyond what I could have ever imagined! Can you believe it?

I felt great pangs of guilt for my initial irritation with my first encounter with the Customer Service department. I sure didn’t deserve the coupon…nor would I be able to use it. Managua’s malls are seriously lacking such businesses and we won’t be back in the States until next March. I e-mailed another thank you…e-mails just can’t adequately convey the depth of gratitude...and I explained our situation to Pat and asked her if it would be possible to transfer that coupon over to Mandy since she was having to take care of all our State-side business…plus, after having our 5th grandchild, I thought she merited a little piece of pampering. Pat graciously agreed and said she would send the coupon out to Mandy and told me that if I needed help in the future that she would be glad to help me.

I was still basking in the glow of God’s answer when I received yet another e-mail from Pat…this one came today and is the one that prompted me to tell this story. Our God never does anything halfway and this is a perfect example of how much He cares about the details. First of all, remember what I had prayed? That God would find a coin purse and mirror for me. And remember that Pat had told me she had found a small bag that she thought would work although it wasn’t the exact coin purse I had asked for? Well, today, Pat e-mailed me to let me know that she had found six of the EXACT coin purses that I needed and that she had them sent to Mandy! Josseling is going to have a coin purse and mirror after all…just like the other girls! You are going to have a hard time convincing me that God doesn’t care about the “little things”…especially when those little things are big things to His children.

I’ve not asked Pat if she’s a Christian but I hope so. I would hate to think that someone who doesn’t know the Lord would be such a great example of how a believer is supposed to be. I also am hoping that I will get to meet her face to face in heaven some day and thank her for being such an integral part of God answering a specific prayer. I want to ask her how God prompted her heart and what made her go the extra mile…no, that’s not right…the extra miles, to help someone receive discontinued, inexpensive clearance items.

I have been wondering whose day I would make if I was that responsive to the needs God puts before me through those who cross my path each day. I wonder if I could be the tool God uses to help someone else know that He cares about the details and the “small stuff” in their life…
A closing thought – Jill, a friend of mine from Cassville, sent me an inspirational e-mail a few days ago. At the bottom of it was something that caught my eye and has been playing over and over in my head. It said, “Do not ask the Lord to guide your footsteps if you are not willing to move your feet.” Thought-provoking, huh? I’m betting Pat is a woman who is willing to move her feet!

Simple pleasures...

We've had a few "free" days here right in a row so I'm trying to get as much blogging done as I can. I want to be caught up so I'm sure you're probably inundated with news right now. My philosophy right now is strike while the iron is hot! In other words, I have the time to blog, I'm taking advantage of it! Now, I'll let you know about another surprise we had this past week...

The little house we’ve been using at the school in Los Cedros now has new occupants, at least for awhile. A family from North Shore Baptist Church in Bothell, WA moved in this past week and they plan on living there until the end of September. North Shore has “adopted” Los Cedros and they are the funding church behind the school. Scott, Becky and their two children, Alyssa, age 14 and Mitch, age 10, as liaisons for the church, are about to immerse themselves in what it’s like to live in Los Cedros. Scott has been here a number of times before and I believe Becky and possibly the kids have been here before, as well. They have a good idea of what the culture is like and I am sure they are going to make a positive impact while they’re here.

When Jim and I arrived at school Thursday morning, Pastora told me that I would only have my first class and then there would be no more classes for the day. Likewise, Jim would have only his first class and then the children would be dismissed for recess. She said that after recess, there was going to be a meeting with the new family to welcome them. She apologized for not letting us know earlier but we reassured her that it wasn’t a problem. We decided we would go ahead and leave after our respective classes were finished since we had understood the meeting was with the staff, but we could tell Pastora preferred for us to stay. We didn’t want to be disrespectful or rude, so we agreed to stay.

I started to go to the 3rd grade class as the schedule dictated when the teacher met me and told me that she had both 2nd and 3rd grade together and that they were in the 2nd grade classroom. She asked me if I could go ahead and teach both classes at the same time. I thought for a minute and told her I could. I would just take the coloring pages I had printed off for the first grade (which were the same as what I had planned for 2nd grade) and depending on how many students were in class, I might have enough for the 3rd grade kids. I would just improvise the lesson so that it would work for both grades. Oddly enough, there were quite a few students absent that morning from 3rd grade… The children were great and we managed to get our lessons in without too much chaos even though their routines were out of whack.

When I asked Carla, the 3rd grade teacher, where Jazmina, the 2nd grade teacher was, she simply said she had to take care of some of the older children as the other teachers weren’t available. She then began talking a mile a minute and I didn’t catch any more of what she said. That was unusual as Carla usually makes sure I understand what she’s saying. I then asked her about the meeting and she was pretty vague about it. She then switched the subject to the afternoon’s meeting with someone from the Ministry of Education.

When it was time for recess, Jim and I went out to watch the younger kids play baseball. They normally have a 40 minute recess but that morning, recess ran much longer. I thought it odd but the whole morning had been a bit odd. What wasn’t odd was the amount of fun the kids were having with their baseball game. It was a hoot! Cela, Carla and Jazmina, the 1st, 2nd and 3rd grade teachers all were involved in the game and even Pastora and Manuel, her husband, came over to watch. We were all laughing and having a great time and it was such a relaxed time.

Here are several pictures of the game which are pretty self-explanatory. There really is no language barrier when kids are playing. Fun may be pronounced differently but it translates just the same. Note the cheerleaders and their “pom-poms”. Talk about going green! The other picture which I just love is of 1st grader, Nayely, putting on and taking off the catcher’s garb. No one was using it as it was miles to big for that age group of kids. Nayely found it lying on the ground and initially, was totally oblivious to anyone watching her. She just seemed fascinated with the whole get-up. When she realized I was taking her picture, she had to pose for me. She’s such a cutie!
Not everyone wanted to play ball, though. Several of the third-graders were hunkered down on the shady side of the office. I walked over there to see what was going on and discovered them deeply engrossed in a very competitive game of Chutes and Ladders…too fun!

As recess was winding down, Scott came out of their house and we crossed paths. We had met him a few months ago and so we spent time catching up. We shared about our visit to the States and he about his short-term move to here. He had some logistical questions and we were able to answer many of those. While talking, Pastora asked me to tell Scott to bring his family to the rancho but she didn’t want me to tell him that they were going to be part of a welcome program. I did as asked and then as Scott walked back to the house to get Becky, Jim and I walked on over to the rancho.

Many of the kids were already seated there at tables and Jim helped Luis Manuel, the maintenance man, set out additional chairs. Scott and his family made their way over to the rancho along with Kathy. I almost forgot to tell you about Kathy! She’s a young woman from Texas who happens to be staying a couple of weeks with Pastora and holding music classes at the school while there. Kathy will soon be moving in to Managua to live and work at Casa Havilah for a couple of months. Casa Havilah is a home for women and their children who have been brought out of their lives of prostitution in the dump. It is a ministry of the Buzbees, other missionary friends of ours, who some of you know.

Pastora asked me to have Scott and his family and Kathy come to sit at the front of the rancho and she wanted us to join them. It seems the school had planned a combination welcome and thank-you celebration for all of us, and once again, we were treated as guests of honor. Finally, the reason for such an odd morning was starting to fall in to place. We understood the welcoming party for the family from North Shores as they are foundational for the operation of the school and we understood the thank you for Kathy’s efforts with the kids, but we were totally surprised to have been included in all that. We are there for the duration… But nevertheless, we thoroughly enjoyed the program.

Each class was represented in some way, whether it was through recitations, song, dance or poem. Even the preschool children did their part…although they had a little trouble spelling out the word “Misionero” (Missionary)…it was like watching a human chess game as the kids were moved from one place to another, trying to get the letters all in the right order. But when they were all sorted out, they were amazing, each one remembering their lines. All the kids did just great. I could feel my heart just swell with pride as I watched them perform their very best. Many of the children are very talented and love to be center-stage so this was a great venue for them.

After the last dance had been danced and the last song sung, lunch was served. Of course, all of us had a table of honor at the front where we were served beans, rice and spaghetti with some kind of meat chunks. I didn’t even try mine, passing the meat “product” over to Jim…that man really loves me! When we finished with lunch, we thanked Pastora and got ready to leave. It took some time as we had lots of hugs we had to give and get between the rancho and the car but when we finally were pulling away, I looked at Jim. I don’t know that he was aware of it but he was smiling and I realized I was doing the same. It had been just a fun morning.

On the way back to Managua, with the windows down and the hot wind blowing through the car, I was reflecting on how beautiful this country and its people are and how privileged we are to live here. Jim and I often talk about how wondrous God is and how in earlier years, never in our wildest dreams did either of us ever think we would end up living in Nicaragua. Talk about a hiccup in life’s plans. This is not what we had thought we would be doing at this point in our lives.

There have been many people who have mentioned that they think we’ve had to give up a lot to be here…and in some respects, we have had to make some difficult choices. But in other ways, it came to the point for us that there was no choice. This is where God called us and we couldn’t let our fears, our plans or our personal preferences take priority over what we knew He was telling us to do. Our sacrifices have not been nearly as great to make as some have been asked to do. And obviously, we’re not living in the deepest, darkest jungle, hunting our own food and making our own clothes out of animal skins,…but neither will we be seeing our grandchildren in church tonight.

Sacrificing Wal-Mart, hot water and air conditioning are not that big of a deal compared to missing our loved ones. The longer we’re here, the more we’re learning that when God asks us to put something on the altar, He has His reasons and He doesn’t always feel the need to share those with us. It appears that this walking by faith is truly a day to day decision…sometimes, a moment to moment decision and usually, without any idea of where that walk is going to take us.
Truthfully, I don’t know that we’re really capable of making a fair assessment of the equality of the payoff to the sacrifice. Just speaking for myself, I think I’m much too short-sighted and selfish to fully appreciate the value of either. But I do know that God has been so generous to give us great moments of pleasure at the most unexpected times…just like we had at school Thursday morning…and I do believe that if we were still back home, living the lives we had thought we were going to live, we might not appreciate them as much as we do now. I wonder if we would have even recognized them…

Choose you this day...

In the last blog, I told you we were scheduled to have our 2nd English and Bible study class in Tipitapa today and that’s exactly what we planned to do but as we have learned all too well, our plans can never be considered set in cement. At any moment, something can come up that forces all plans to change and the best way to handle these kinds of things is with an attitude of flexibility. Sure wish I would have learned that lesson years ago…

I don’t think I remembered to mention this part, but after our class last week, the pastor’s wife asked if she could bring some more people to the next class and then, we received an e-mail from our friends, Angi and Ronnie, who have the camp in Tipitapa, asking if it would be alright if some of their employees and friends came. Of course, the answer was yes to everyone but since we had no idea how many would be coming, we assured everyone there would be no charge for the classes, but that the students were going to be responsible for their own notebook and pencil or pen. We also added that if that was going to be something that would prohibit anyone from coming, to be sure and let us know and we would make sure they had the necessary supplies as we don’t want that to ever prohibit anyone from attending. Neither do we want to give anyone the wrong impression that we’re there to simply do handouts. So, it looked like what we had thought was going to be our original 5 students was going to grow again.

We were really looking forward to today’s class. But then we received an e-mail advisory from the American Embassy against being out on the street’s today. We know there are many folks who disregard these advisories but we prefer to heed them if at all possible. When we called Miguel yesterday afternoon and reminded him that it was the beginning of Santo Domingo, he understood and agreed that it would be best for us to remain at home today. Jim told him of the advisory from the Embassy and he was concerned that we would be scared. We’re not scared but we don’t want to put ourselves in a position where we might end up that way. We got caught in part of the parade last year and it took us well over several hours to get home. We didn’t want to deal with that again this year. I know Miguel was disappointed as were we but we all felt it was the best decision and he said he would notify the students.

August 1st is the beginning of the 10 day celebration of Santo Domingo de Guzmán, the patron saint of Managua. This is the most famous festival in Managua. The 1st and the 10th are the actual holidays and are the big days of the celebration with literally thousands of people jamming the streets of Managua as they slowly dance alongside the decorated platform which holds the little wooden statue of “Santo Domingo” from Las Sierritas, a small church south of the city in a procession called the Bajada del Santo (walk down of the saint) to the Santo Domingo cathedral which is located in the heart of the city.

These celebrations have a lot going on, with marching bands, folks with painted faces, dressed in traditional folkloric costumes, some even representing "diablo", the devil, horse parades, street performers, etc. all in high spirits. But there is a need to exercise caution when there is a great number of people assembled and a huge amount of alcohol being consumed. That’s just not a good combination. But it doesn’t end today…this procession will take place again on the 10th, only in reverse when the Subida del Santo (walk up of the saint) happens…the returning of the statue to the little church in Las Sierritas.

Much of the fiesta has its roots in pre-colonial times and a lot of the traditions are still strongly held by many folks – the asking for personal miracles, making promises to the saint in hopes of having their prayers answered and giving thanks for prayers that the saint had answered. Some “walk” for some distance on their knees entering the church on their bloodied knees, thinking that their sacrifice of blood and pain will perhaps earn the favor of the little glass-covered wooden saint.

These celebrations start early and go late. At four o’clock this morning, I was awakened by the sound of music and loud speakers coming from the barrio down below us. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who didn’t welcome the interruption of sleep as the neighbor’s rooster also began to protest. Then their dogs began to bark. I thought it was enough noise to wake the dead! And then I remembered that’s what this day is all about…worshiping a dead saint.

It would be easy to brush this off as uneducated people simply following tradition. After all, I've heard repeatedly that "these people aren't that far removed from their native Indian ancestory". That argument just doesn't hold up when many of the celebrants are well educated and well respected in their communities. I believe it is more than that. I believe that the enemy is in the midst of this celebration today and is loving every minute of it.

I don’t want to disparage the history of Saint Dominic Guzman, who died in 1221. If even a portion of what I have read about him is true, I believe he was a man of God who loved the Lord with all his heart. I’m certainly in no position to dispute the veracity of what he was reputed to have done. In many respects, I am only a child in my walk with the Lord but I know Him well enough to know that I don’t want to speak against the works of the Spirit of which I don’t have knowledge or have not witnessed myself. I believe God and His works are far bigger than I can even begin to understand. Why would I worship a lesser God than One whose thoughts and ways are far greater than mine?

But all that being said, I still believe the enemy has his fingerprints all over the heart of this celebration. His desire is to distort and distract any worship of our Lord. The passionate pilgrims and the disgusting drunks are just that - distortions and distractions. The enemy is smart. He knows man was created to worship and he will do whatever it takes to make sure that it’s not God. Satan is interested in promoting the worship and honor of a dead man over that of our heavenly Father far more than he is in the sheer numbers of people passed out on the streets from too much to drink. They’re merely an amusement. No, I believe that the enemy of our souls wants to deceive and this “celebration” is just another way to do so.

So tonight, I’m sad. I’m sad that we didn’t get to have our class today. Sad that we missed seeing Miguel and Elizabeth. But more than that, much more than that...I’m sad that there are thousands and thousands of people here, in this city that is now my home, who are deceived in to believing that an old carved piece of wood has the ears to hear their cries, a heart that desires to minister to their wounded spirits or the power to do either. There are so many hurting people here, so many who need to know Jesus…the Jesus Who died for them, Who lives for them and Who loves them, the Jesus Who wants to draw them close to Him, to shelter them, to gather them as a hen gathers her chicks, the Jesus Who is the Way, the Life and the Truth, the Jesus Who is the only way to the Father, the Jesus Who shares His glory with no other. Please, please, pray for our people. They have been deceived in to worshiping "Dagon". (1 Samuel 5)

"You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand {generations} of those who love me and keep my commandments. Exodus 20:3-6

Teaching in Tipitapa...part 1

A week ago, Jim and I took a step of faith and drove to Tipitapa to hold our first adult English class with a Bible study immediately following. This is something we had talked with Miguel about doing as he and Elizabeth each had a family member who was interested in learning to speak English. We had just recently heard that there was another American couple who was also giving English classes but the rumor was that they were charging for their classes. We certainly didn’t want to step on someone else’s ministry but after sincerely seeking God in this, we felt like this was where He was leading us.

So, we told Miguel we would teach English but we also wanted to have a short Bible study following the English class. Miguel was in complete agreement with this as one of those family members isn’t a Christian. Knowing the financial situation of that person coupled with the fact that Miguel said he thought we would have about 5 people in the class, we said we would buy the notebooks and provide the pens/pencils for those people who wanted to come as we didn’t want that to be an obstacle to their coming.

Miguel was very concerned that we wouldn’t want to drive there for only 5 people but we assured him that God didn’t tell us how many people we needed to have to begin the class, only that we were to begin the class and that we weren’t concerned with the numbers. That was a good thing because Miguel called us last Friday evening, the day before the classes were to begin to tell us that he thought we would have around 15 people! Wow! I never dreamt that we would have that many! God reminded me He came to give life abundantly! Oh, me of little faith. Thankfully, I already had the pens, pencils and erasers on hand but we had some shopping to do to try to find 15 similar notebooks at a reasonable price!

We had originally planned on having the classes in the covered area between Miguel’s house and his mother’s but with there being that many people coming, I knew he was going to have to find us another location as there just wasn’t going to be room and with it being the rainy season, we would definitely need a covered area for the classes. We were interested to see what Miguel would come up with for us in the way of a location.

It seemed like the time flew Saturday morning and before we knew it, it was time for us to be leaving. On the way, we stopped at Price Smart to see if they had large packages of notebooks. We had been there earlier in the week to buy a large, dry erase board but hadn’t thought to look for notebooks as at that time, we had planned on having only 5 students. Price Smart didn’t have any notebooks at all so we decided to stop at our favorite little copy place. We were hoping they might possibly have enough so that we wouldn’t have to make a trip to the office supply store at the mall at Metro Centro. Not only would the notebooks there cost so much more, but we would also be spending a lot more time making that mall stop than we had to spend.

Stopping at the copy place was a good decision. It’s a Mom and Pop business which stays very busy as they are located directly across the street from the University. Obviously, the vast majority of their clientele are Nicaraguan students and the area is a pretty small space, so when we go in, our presence is no secret. The owners are always very nice to us and because we typically are there on Mondays and Wednesdays getting quite a few copies made for school, they have come to know us and are very appreciative of our business.

It is an interesting little store as they carry lots of items, just not many of any one thing. They carry the typical school-related items but you can also find hand-made jewelry, purses, backpacks, wrapping paper, children’s books, many of them with Christian themes as well as any other interesting thing a vendor may happen along selling. I love going in there as there is always some curious object tucked away that I discover. Prime example…they had little 3 dimensional novelty erasers like cars, trucks, helicopters, animals, etc. that I bought for rewards at school and the kids love them! It’s a fun place.

I'm spider-webbing...back to my story. The owners were surprised to see us come rushing in on a Saturday which is normally a pretty slow day for them. I asked what kind of notebooks they had and the cost and the man showed me what was available. I picked out the type I wanted and then told him I needed 15. We both knew that he didn't have nearly enough but he counted the notebooks and there were only 8. He then told me to wait a minute and he went running out the door. He was gone about 10 minutes and then came running back in with an armful of notebooks. He had gone to his competition to get me more notebooks. Now that’s good customer service!

Finally, we were on our way to Tipitapa. It had started to drizzle. I was a bit nervous as it seemed like we were running behind time-wise and if it was going to rain, I knew that would slow us down even more. We prayed that we would make it to Miguel’s house in time. Once we got on the North Highway, the traffic seemed to be unusually light, even for a Saturday and we made great time. We pulled up in front of Miguel’s house about ten minutes before three…ten minutes to spare! Thank you, Lord!

Elizabeth was waiting out front for us. We greeted one another and I asked where Miguel was. She said he left a little while earlier and wasn’t sure where he had gone but she thought he would be back before too long. Elizabeth climbed in to the car with us as the rain started coming down a bit heavier. We chatted for a few minutes but we didn’t have to wait long until we saw Miguel come up behind us on his bicycle. Shortly thereafter, Danelia, Miguel’s sister and Kenneth’s mother, arrived with keys to the little Nazarene church which is just a couple of doors down from Miguel’s house. Danelia goes to that church now and she had asked the pastor if we could use it. Since the pastor’s wife also wanted to take classes, he agreed.

What a great facility for our classes! Not only were we in out of the weather, but there were working fans and the pews provided ample seating. They had a dry erase board ready for us to use and though it was in pretty poor condition, we didn’t want to offend them by bringing in our own. I think we’re probably going to go to Price Smart to buy another one and present it still wrapped up as a thank-you for allowing us to use their church. Once again, God had provided above and beyond what we had expected. The church was perfect for our classes!

We got settled in and waited…and waited…and waited. Miguel’s oldest daughter came but she came because Miguel had told her to come. That was all. Miguel was having a fit. The more time that passed without any other people coming, the more upset he became. He was afraid we would be offended. We assured him that God already had it in control and that it would be fine. I wasn't offended but I secretly began to wonder if maybe we had run ahead of God on this.

Miguel kept saying how the people were irresponsible and lazy, wanting to sleep with it raining. I told him I understood perfectly and that the rain was making me sleepy, also. I reiterated that God would bring whom He chose. Isn't it funny how in the act of reassuring someone else, we are often reassured ourselves. I needed to hear those words but I think God wanted me to hear them coming from my own mouth.

All at once, we saw a group of women coming around the corner and sure enough, here came our class, thirty minutes after class was to begin! The funny thing is that the Americans were fine with it…it was our Nica friend who was fit to be tied and ready to give them all a lecture about their tardiness. I stopped him before he got to really going with his tongue-lashing and suggested we get started.

I had been really nervous up to that point but when I saw the women were just as nervous about learning a new language as I was about teaching it, it helped to settle us all down. And we began. There were indeed, 15 students. All were women (all ages) with the exception of Miguel and a man who was there repairing some sound equipment who because of his location in the church, couldn’t help but listen to our class. And later, he actually participated some with us!
Elizabeth had appointed herself in charge of supply distribution, taking the task very seriously, making sure to write down everyone’s name (and age) and then after they had “registered” with her, they received their notebook, pen, pencil and eraser. She also helped me with passing out the handouts and perched herself on the front row, ready to learn the language that Miguel often used to communicate with us. She was tired of being left out and was ready to remedy the situation! That’s my girl!

The women were surprisingly good about repeating and participating if I called upon them or asked them to say something as a group but they seemed to remain very quiet among themselves. I realized they were still uncertain about me and did not view me as a peer, but rather as a superior. I wasn’t at all comfortable with that. I decided to have them practice their conversational phrases in pairs and then began working with them in small groups. That’s when the laughter began and as we ended our first class, we all were much more relaxed than when we first begun.

Immediately following my English class, Jim led a small Bible study…in Spanish, mind you! He is to be greatly commended for the time he put in to working on this as not only did he have to write his study, he also then had to translate his notes and his handout in to Spanish…very time intensive! If that weren’t enough, he then led the class in Spanish…a bit haltingly at times, but nevertheless, he did it! We handed out individual copies of the book of John in Spanish so that the women would have the scriptures before them. Although, those individual books are a translation of the KJV and Jim’s notes were based on the NIV, the Holy Spirit did His work and there was understanding and comprehension in spite of the translation differences.

Many of the women obviously attend a church as they were familiar with much of the terminology but I think it’s going to be interesting to see how God uses this study to move them from head knowledge to life application of God’s Word. Jim did a great job with his study and the women seemed to enjoy it. The pastor’s wife closed us in prayer and we told everyone we would see them the following week at the same time. Miguel stressed that the time would be at 3:00 sharp! I had to laugh and then so did the others…we all knew he just couldn’t let it go.

Our first class was over. We survived and apparently, so did everyone else. The women and I hugged and said our good-byes. Jim and I were exhausted. It had been a long day but an exciting one. We were pleased how God enabled us to transition the English class in to the Bible study. The pastor’s wife came up and thanked us for coming and giving to their people. We thanked her in return for allowing us to be there. We definitely were looking forward to our next class the following Saturday…which would have been today. You can read what happened with that in the next blog entry.