School of Hard Knocks...

I’m sitting here on the porch of the little house at the school. Some of the 4th & 5th grade boys are playing catch out in the front “yard” area. They’re tough kids…throwing as hard as they can at each other and those that weren’t lucky enough to get a ball glove, are catching the zingers with bare hands. I can hear the ball smack against their skin.
The ball hit against the edge of the glove of one of the boys and it bounced up and whomped him a good one on the chin. It made my eyes sting just watching him. He kept rubbing his chin and when I asked him if he was okay, he barely nodded his head yes. He kept looking at me but didn’t want to engage in conversation. I realized he didn’t want me to embarrass him in front of the guys…moms remain moms regardless the location, regardless of the parentage and regardless the number of years that have passed since last giving birth.
It’s been quite a morning so far. One of my third graders, Henry, was caught with some alcohol a few weeks ago and was suspended from school for several days. He’s never returned. When I asked about him this morning, the students told me that he’s now working at the panaderia (small bakery) in one of the pulperias (little street-side store) here in town. They said he’s colored part of his hair red.
I asked Pastora about him. She said that his family has lots of problems. Truth be told, it seems like all the families of the students here have lots of problems. I asked her why he’s working instead of attending school and she said that the family has too many children and the father needs him to work. This broke my heart…he’s a smart boy and has a lot of potential but he’s already starting to make wrong decisions. He’s just one of many…
Joselving is hungry today…he’s anxious for the free school lunch to be ready. Things are difficult at home again. I can tell by his behavior in class this week…he’s restless and easily agitated by others.
Tony has been dozing in class. He has been tired for the last few weeks. When I asked him why he’s so tired, he just shrugged his shoulders and said he’s not been sleeping good at night. He’s normally my best student in 6th grade…usually straight A’s. He received a 70% on our test the other day. Something’s not right at home.
One of my favorite students in fourth grade, Jean Carlos, has been gone for a week from class. I saw him out on the playground this morning and told him I had missed him. He smiled. When I asked him how he was feeling, he looked puzzled. I repeated the question, thinking perhaps he didn’t understand Spanish. (joke) Again, I received a puzzled look. I then asked if he just didn’t want to come to school but I smiled when I asked it. He silently nodded his head yes.
It was with a sudden awareness that I quietly asked him if he was having problems in his home. He solemnly nodded his head yes. I told him I was sorry and that if I could help, I wanted to do so. He looked down at the ground, slightly nodding his head in acknowledgement and barely breathed, “Gracias”. Then he raised his eyes to meet mine, smiled just the slightest smile and off he went.
I’ve been watching him this morning on the playground. He’s playing with his buddies and for the most part not acting like he has a care in the world. But occasionally, I’ll catch him standing off to the side and gazing off in the distance. He’s too young to carry the weight of the world on those small shoulders of his. Again, I feel immense sadness. I just looked up from here and saw him playing soccer with some other boys. Life goes on. These kids attend school here but I think that most of them are getting their education at the School of Hard Knocks.
Oh, Jesus…help me know what to do…help me be your hands and show your heart today. The battle rages…the children are the casualties.

A Tapestry is Woven...

Meet Moses and Marissa…an example of God’s tapestry

The week the team from FBC – Cassville/Lone Star – Willard were here, there were some obviously God-ordained encounters. One of those was with a young man named Moses whom several of the team met through a home visit. Linda and Nora made that home visit that morning, with Pastor Manuel, Jim and Hazel (one of the translators). They came back and told us about this man they had met. The ladies said he was married and had a little baby (his wife and baby happened to be at the pastor’s house during this visit). He was out of work and said he desperately needed work in order to take care of his family.

Linda told us a little about Moses…that he had lived in the U.S. for 20+ years and had also spent 3 ½ years in prison for drug charges. He told the ladies that God had changed his life and that he was a believer in Jesus Christ. Linda especially was touched by Moses, his straight-forward manner and how honest he had been in the telling of his failures.

Moses told them that he and his wife had a business in Jinotega (a city up north) but because the economy is so bad here in Nicaragua, they had lost everything. He also felt that he needed to get away from his old environment there. They had moved to Los Cedros in hopes of a new start and had been in their little borrowed house for only a week.

Moses gained a great advocate on his behalf in Linda. She proposed that we hire him to help with the construction of the house. There was no doubt we could use the manpower and muscle and we could help him out at the same time. This was a thread in a tapestry yet to be revealed.

As Linda related their visit with Moses, a light bulb went on in my head. A few weeks earlier, we had been approached by Pastora, the director of the school where we teach and also Pastor Manuel’s wife, and told about a young family who had a baby and needed some milk for her. Pastora said that they had been helping the family by allowing them to stay with them but that they just couldn’t afford to buy more milk. I told her we would meet that need and we brought the milk our next day at the school.

At that time, Pastora told us that there had been some issues with this couple and that she knew that having them in their home wasn’t the best situation. She told us that the young man had a problem with drugs and had been in prison in the U.S. She said he also had a problem with his temper and that she had been told that he had been known to hit his wife when angry. As common as that is here, it still makes my stomach turn every time I hear of it.

Pastora said that she didn’t know what to do but she knew the baby needed milk and shelter and that she was trusting God to provide an answer. She also indicated that the current housing situation was not working for their family and it was causing some strain in her own household. She said he said he wanted work but she wasn’t sure if he meant it or not. Pastora also told us the man was helping Manuel some at the church and some around their house and that his wife was helping to cook at the school in exchange for their room and board at Manuel and Pastora’s.

She continued on for some time about this family and then asked if we would join her in prayer about this. We told her we would. I had remembered she had said his name was Moses and we had seen him a time or two at Pastora’s house – which is right next to the school, but we never actually made contact with him.

When Linda was telling the team about this young man, I realized who she was talking about and where they were living. I did not like the connection…this tapestry thread.

I have to be totally honest here and say my first reaction was that we didn’t need to have him working with the team. All I could think about was what Pastora had shared with us and that it was Jim’s and my responsibility to protect the team. And a large part of that sense of protection came because our grandson was a member of the team. It went against everything in me to put someone who was struggling with a drug habit alongside my twelve year-old grandson. It was going to take a word from God.

Guess Who spoke?

Linda was persistent. I had to get alone to think this through. For as long as I can remember, I have always been someone who stands up for the underdog. And since becoming a follower of Jesus Christ, I am usually very compassionate for those who have made really bad decisions in their lives and want to change. Believe me, that’s not to my credit – that glory goes to God alone who saved this woman who has a litany of her own “really bad decisions”. That’s just one of the things God has given me…a heart for the hurting who are responsible for their own hurt.

But this time, I just wasn’t sure. An argument ensued. Thankfully, it was one in my head to which no one else was privy. I wanted to give Moses an opportunity, I really did. But, I also wanted to protect the team. I wanted to believe this guy’s story the way Linda believed it. But I absolutely wanted to protect my grandson. I wanted to pretend that Jim and I hadn’t had a conversation less than 2 weeks prior with Pastora about this very man. But, some of her words seemed to be on continuous replay. I wanted to extend the grace that had been extended to me. But I wanted to be wise in this decision. I wanted to show Christ with every person I met. But…but…there was no rebuttal to that.

I had a choice to make. Trust in my own ability to protect the team and my grandson or trust God. Believe that God could only make a drastic heart change in me or believe that He is powerful enough to change the heart of any repentant sinner. I hate those kinds of arguments…I always lose. Actually, I suppose I always win…in spite of myself.

So, we decided to bring Moses on for a day and see how he worked out. I talked with Pastor Manuel first to see what he thought. He said if we wanted to give him a chance he knew Moses would appreciate the work and he definitely needed the money. He told Jim and me that we could try him for a day and we could decide whether we wanted to bring him back the next day.

I am so thankful I didn’t let my own false sense of piety and fear get in the way of what God had planned. Moses was a great worker. He loved working with the men on our team. He made a special connection with Chuck, who is very involved in the Jail Ministry in our church. The two of them were meant to work together that week. This is another instance of where Chuck may have thought he came to build a house, but I think he came to build up and encourage a struggling believer. Another thread in the tapestry.

Our last day in Los Cedros, the team had a small gift to give to each of the cooks who had provided us with great lunches all week long. One of those cooks was Marissa, Moses’ wife. She is a sweet, gentle woman with a sense of weariness to her. When we gave her the gift, she burst in to tears. She began to explain how hard life had been for them and how they moved there and had very little. She talked about how hard it was to live in a town where everyone already knew their story.

Marissa thanked us repeatedly for giving Moses work and blessing their family with the Blessing Bucket and Bag that the girls had taken earlier in the week. She asked that God would bless each one of us in great abundance for showing His love to them. I hate how guilt burns. But I love how God is the balm for that burn. My own eyes filled up with tears. It was okay…others had tears also. All I could think about was repenting for my own fears and prejudice. As Marissa continued to thank the team, I silently thanked God for making me address a lack of trust in His provision and protection for the team…for Sam. The beauty of the tapestry was becoming apparent.

Moses obviously touched the team in a very special way. Two people left some money for us to purchase a stove and some supplies for Moses and Marissa so they could begin to cook meals in their own little house. The day the team left, Jim and I added some money to the “pot” and bought a medium sized cook stove which could burn carbon (charcoal) or wood plus two pans (for rice and beans), some plates and silverware, additional food staples and a big can of dried milk for Genesis, the baby.

When we took the items by their house that following Tuesday, no one was home. We happened to run in to Pastor Manuel and asked him if Marissa was at the church and told him why we wanted to know. He told us that she was at his house and that he would go with us to get her and take her to her house.

We went and picked her up and all she knew was we had a surprise for her. When we got to her little house, she hurried in to straighten up while we unloaded the car. She saw Jim bring in the stove and she had the most incredulous look on her face! She couldn’t believe that we had brought a stove. Pastor Manuel and Jim brought the other bags in and when I handed the bag with the big can of milk in it to Marissa, her face crumpled and she sobbed. She kept saying, “Milk for Genesis, milk for Genesis!” Again, she wasn’t the only one crying.

To shorten this story up a little, we hired Moses to continue working until the house was completed. That enabled us to spend some in-depth time with him. We were able to give some Biblical counseling on some struggles he was having with some relationships. He was honest about his feelings of anger and resentment and I believe he was sincere in wanting to handle the situation as God would have him.

Moses’ past haunts him in many respects. He remembers better times and worse times. He understands that it is his choice as to whether he opts to live a hollow, bitter life whether in regretting the past or longing for it or if he chooses to live a life of hope for the future. Moses and I both understand beauty for ashes. And I think we are both profoundly grateful for such a divine transaction.

After our conversation that day, I better understood why Linda felt so strongly about giving this man an opportunity and I was thankful God gave her such insight. It’s good to be humbled in such a way…there is a remarkable sense of blessing in it. We have continued to stay in touch with Moses and I see Marissa at school. We’re not sure what else God has in store for us in regards to this family.

Another thread in the tapestry called Moses and Marissa. In talking with Moses, we found out that when he lived in Jinotega, he had served as a translator for mission teams working in the area. Now here’s a beautifully vivid thread of connection in that tapestry…Moses had translated many times for our friends, Ronnie and Angi, who live and have a camp in Tipitapa!

That may not mean much to you if you’re not familiar with the logistics of these cities. Los Cedros, where Moses and Marissa live now, is about 30-40 minutes west of the west-side of Managua. Jinotega, where Moses and Marissa used to live is a good 4 hours north of Managua. And Tipitapa, where Ronnie and Angi live is about an hour twenty minutes east of where we live.
What an amazing triangle and what a beautiful tapestry God has put together here with all of us…Linda, Nora, Manuel, Geneva, Hazel, Chuck, Jeanna, Jackie, James, Beverly, Allan, Jim, Sam, Miguel, Jonathan, David, Pastora, Norling, Jorge, Juan, Ronnie, Angi, Moses, Marissa, Genesis and me. God used all to add color, texture and depth to this tapestry. Amazing.

Transito...

We are never sure what God has prepared for us to deal with on any given day. Example...

Yesterday (Friday), we had to go to Transito to get Jim’s license back…yes, he had received another ticket. When the FBC team was here, he had to take the van into Managua to buy some wood for the house and on the way back, he was stopped by a policeman.

At first the policeman wanted to write Jim a ticket for not having insurance on his driver’s license as a professional driver. Jim assured him he wasn’t a professional driver and he didn’t need insurance on his license. The policeman insisted…so did Jim. That quiet, mild-mannered husband of mine has some roots of stubbornness that go pretty deep, let me assure you.

Finally, the policeman must have realized that Jim wasn’t going to go along with that charge and so he then cited him for not having a red flag on the wood hanging out the back of the van. Jim had to agree he was wrong on that charge…and though I wasn’t with him when all this transpired, I am pretty sure that agreement came reluctantly! Jim received the yellow ticket and gave his license to the officer…standard procedure.

The law says we have thirty days to get the fine paid and pick up his license from Transito. He received the ticket on the the 29th of September. Thursday morning when we were going to school, we were pulled over again. I got the necessary registration and insurance cards out of the glovebox and Jim gave those to the officer plus his yellow ticket which allows him to drive.
The officer looked at the ticket and then checked out our car.

He wanted to know why we got the ticket. Jim explained to him. He wanted to know why we hadn’t paid the fine yet and we told him we were going to pay it the following day, at Transito. He said we should have already paid it. Jim told him that he had thirty days to pay the ticket. He kept talking and when I asked him to speak more slowly, he interrupted me and continued on. I overlooked the first interruption and chalked it up to an eager cop hoping we would pay him to let us go.

He seemed to be getting angry that we wouldn’t pay him. Jim didn’t understand him at all and I was having a great deal of difficulty trying to figure out what he was saying. Jim reached for our dictionary which we happened to have with us as we were on our way to school. Rarely do we use it there but we always have it with our things.

I tried to explain yet again that we were going to pay the ticket the following day and he interrupted me once again. Okay…that time it got under my skin…and every time after that. I really believe God had His fingers clamped tightly on my slippery and extremely aggravated tongue because all the stuff that was on the tip of it stayed there. The grumpy guy then said he was going to take Jim’s yellow ticket and give him a red ticket. At the same time, we both asked incredulously, “¿Por qué?” “Why???” A red ticket means Jim can’t drive…this was getting much more serious. The cop’s voice raised a great deal as he again said we had not paid our fine.

I felt like I was talking to a very stubborn and insolent child as I once again patiently explained that we had thirty days to pay the fine and that we were planning on going the next day to Transito. I took my phone out and told him I was going to call my friend who spoke Spanish and asked if he would talk to her. He looked like he was going to explode…we had yet to offer him any money. He shoved the paperwork back at Jim and started to walk off. Jim told him thank you and asked if we had a Blessing Bag in the glovebox. I had already pulled one out and we called the cop back.

Believe me when I tell you it took everything in me to hand this very unpleasant guy one of our Blessing Bags we carry for the men in blue. But then the thought flitted through my well-steamed brain that maybe God would speak to him through the materials in that bag. I explained we were missionaries here and we had a gift for him. He took it without looking at us or even so much as a thank you and walked off. As relieved as we were that Jim didn’t get a red ticket, I was just as ticked off at that cop. It’s those kinds of things that contribute to making life here difficult…after awhile, they begin to wear thin.

So, we made our trip to Transito. Jim had already paid the fine at the bank close to our house and so we had all the necessary documentation to retrieve his license. Should have been an easy process…oh yeah…nothing is easy here. We got in the line that said Extranjeros (Foreigners). Two men in line told us that we had to go get in another line and then after they looked at our payment receipt and copy of the ticket, they would direct us to the proper line. Jim told him we were Extranjeros. Hello. I think they probably could have figured that out themselves just by looking at us. Didn’t matter. They said we needed to go get in one of the other lines.

The 4 windows are divided alphabetically. I think in theory, this is to help expedite getting rid of all the traffic offenders which seem to consistently fill the room. The window that serviced all of us A-F offenders was closed. We had to move over to the G-whatever window. While waiting in line, I easily slipped in to one of my favorite ways to pass time in such venues…people watching. Funny…no one seemed to be in a particularly good mood there.

The man who was in front of us in the G-whatever line had been behind us in the Extranjero line. When he heard the two guys telling us we needed to go to the other line, he went ahead and moved. We were slower in the understanding and in the moving…hence, our line positions shifted. He happened to speak some English… actually, that wasn’t a “happened” kind of thing. We were to realize later God came to our rescue once again by placing this man there in front of us.

Finally, we found ourselves smiling at the unsmiling girl on the other side of the window. Jim handed her our paperwork. She told us that we needed to go to another area and she pointed to the part of the building where there were 3 doors to choose from. This was new…we hadn’t had to do that last time. We stood staring at them, not at all sure where to go. Jim went back and asked her again. This time, she came part way around the area and pointed with a very disgusted look on her face the door we were to go through. Goodness, I am now so much more sympathetic to folks in our country who struggle with the language than I used to be…

We went through the door and felt like we had fallen in to the Rabbit Hole…the office was air-conditioned and quiet…that’s odd enough to begin with. We waited and no one even looked up at us. I looked at Jim…I could see him and by the expression on his face, I was pretty sure he could see me. I wonder why the 5 people in that office couldn’t seem to see either of us standing there waiting?

After a bit, a policeman asked us what we wanted but we weren’t sure what he was saying. I tried our standard explanation of, "We don't speak much Spanish, could you please speak more slowly?" The policeman didn't care about our comprehension level, he just wanted us to answer his question NOW! Our “friend” from out front happened to be leaving from that same office and he translated for us. We answered the policeman and thanked the guy. He smiled and walked out the door. I hated to see him go…it was nice to have a friendly face who spoke with a familiar tongue in very unfamiliar and hostile territory. Jim handed the policeman our ticket and he said we needed to go out to the Extranjero window. We told him they sent us back there.

He then wanted to know what country we were from. I told him the U.S. He wanted to know what state. I told him Missouri. He walked over to another lady. She couldn’t find whatever it was she was supposed to have. He asked again what state. I told him again that we were from Missouri. He and the lady seemed to have another exchange, this time a bit more agitated. Finally, he walked back to us with some info written on the back of the paperwork and with a very stern face, directed us out of the office.

We walked back to the Extranjero’s line. The same two guys who were there to begin with were still there. The line of two didn’t seem to be moving too quickly. The girl behind the window looked at us and waved us back over to an alphabet window. We told her the man told us to come back to her. She stuck out her hand and waved it impatiently, motioning for Jim to give her his paperwork. He obliged.

We waited while she began filing through various packets of licenses…the number of confiscated driver’s licenses is mind-boggling. She asked what country we were from. Déjà vu. I told her the U.S. She asked what state. I told her Missouri. She rummaged through more packets and asked again. The answer was the same…Missouri. As she continued to rummage, I wondered if there is some kind of Surly and Sour Attitude training they all have to undergo before being hired or if it’s a dispositional characteristic that is highly prized for such a position. Either way, the place is sadly lacking in joy and niceties.

Finally, she found Jim’s license and silently handed it back to him as she walked off. We waited a minute, wondering if there was something else we were supposed to have. Neither of us could remember from the last time we had to visit there. She refused to look up. Jim asked her if that was all. She said, “Si”, but her tone said, “Si, you idiot.” We left with Jim’s license in hand. And we both breathed a sigh of relief.

On the way out to the car, I told Jim…no matter who needs what, don’t ever haul anything again without a red flag tied on it. He agreed. We also agreed that they don't like us much there. That's a little hurtful. But sometimes, truth such as that is hurtful...and ugly...and true. I would like to think that was our last visit to Transito. Somehow, I doubt it.

Today in Tipitapa...

Today was Tipitapa Day. This was our first time to have English class and Bible study since before the FBC team came. The first two Saturdays we didn’t have class because of time devoted to the team and last Saturday, they had class without us. We were having issues in the neighborhood again and felt it unwise to leave the house unprotected. So, it felt good to be back in Tipitapa again and it was great to see those students who came today.

We only had 10 students today including a new woman student. This is the least we’ve ever had but we did have some stiff competition. There was a huge political rally/party being held just a few blocks from where we were and the students said much of the class had gone to that. Can’t understand why anyone would rather go to a government sponsored fiesta with speeches, food, music and dance (plus plenty of alcohol, I’m sure) when they could have been with us studying verb conjugations! Oh, well…maybe we’ll see those missing students next week.

Jim’s lesson today was about Jesus asking the man lying on the mat if he wanted to be made well. In the middle of his lesson, he asked the question of how do we get to heaven. No one answered. So, I asked the group a Good News question…”If you died today, how do you know you would go to heaven?” One of the young women immediately answered that if she died today but had done good things, she would go to heaven but if she died today and had done bad things, then she wouldn’t. Jim and I looked at each other. No one seemed to protest the answer.

I asked God to gift me with the language just long enough to share the truth with this young gal. I asked the group if they remembered the two men who hung on the crosses on either side of Jesus when he was crucified. Of course, they all did. I reminded them that they were both ladrones…thieves. They nodded their head in agreement. I also reminded them that right before they died that one man accepted Jesus as his Messiah and the other rejected Him. They both had done bad things. The one who accepted Jesus as Lord went to heaven that day but the other one who rejected Him as Lord did not. Jim and I then explained that Jesus already did the work that it takes for us to get to heaven and that none of our works could ever be good enough to get us there. Again, nods of agreement. We continued on for a few minutes reiterating the fallacy of works based beliefs. More nods.

I don’t know that anyone really had the necessary ah-ha moment of what Jesus dying on the cross really means, but I do know that we will continue to pray for this class. They are like so many “Christians” here who give works based answers. I feel sad that they live in fear of never being good enough and that they are missing the greatest relationship in their life. On the way home, we discussed how God opened the door to address that wrong thinking in a loving and gentle way and that maybe today will be the first of other doors being opened to engage them in conversation about Truth.

After class, we got to spend some time with Danelia and the kids plus Miguel and Elizabeth. Kenneth was feeling pretty good and couldn’t give or get enough hugs. He sat on the arm of my plastic chair and Lindsay was on the other side…pulling on my hoop earring. That seems to be a favorite thing for her to do. Finally, I had to tell her that it was part of my ear and she was going to pull it off! She laughed…not an ounce of compassion in that little one! She is so fun, though…

It couldn’t have been comfortable for Kenneth to sit on that arm of the chair but I had paperwork in my lap and he wasn’t willing to sit anywhere else. Not even after a bird right above us deposited the most unappreciated little gift in my lap – just missing the notebook I held! Kenneth and I looked at each other and we both laughed. He took the rag Elizabeth was using to wipe her face and gave it to me to clean my hand and lap. He continued to laugh periodically. It was so good to hear him laugh…I would let that bird have at it if it would make Kenneth happy.

After awhile, Danelia sent him off to go talk to his grandmother. He wasn’t happy about going, but he did. I asked her what the doctor said this week. She told me that one doctor wanted to go ahead and continue with a type of IV chemo. But the head doctor said he disagreed with the treatment because each time Kenneth took it, it was causing more damage to his heart and that it was stressing his other organs. He had another pretty serious episode of tachycardia the last time they began a round of this chemo. This doctor told her that if they continued, that Kenneth most certainly would die of heart complications long before the cancer took him. The doctor told her it was dangerous to continue.

During the consultation with the doctors this week, Danelia told the head doctor that she was praying that God would heal Kenneth and that she had American friends who were praying also. The doctor told her he didn’t believe in God. She was shaken by that. The doctor said she needed to make a decision as to how she wanted them to treat Kenneth. He told her that his suggestion was to keep him on medication and to discontinue any IV treatments but the decision was hers. She said she wanted to talk to me first. I felt sick when she told me that. I told her that it wasn’t my decision to make, that it was her family’s decision after talking with the doctors. She said she wanted to hear what I had to say and that she trusted me.

I didn’t know what to say. I told her I couldn’t make that decision. She asked me again what I thought about the IV chemo. I asked her if it was helping at all. She said the head doctor said it was no longer helping but now, was harming him. The other doctor said it might give him a little more time but agreed it was very hard on Kenneth’s system and that he was suffering complications from taking it. Both reiterated that it would not cure him. She has continued to give him the medication but opted not to give him the IV chemo this week. She can choose to take him back next week to start him back on it if she wants.

She waited while I searched for the right words. I told her I did believe in God and that I believed He was in control. I asked her how Kenneth has been this last week or so. She said he has felt better and that his pain has decreased. She said she still has morphine tablets for him but he hasn’t had to take it nearly as much as before and that he hadn’t had any pain at all the last few days. She said he seemed to be much happier this past week.

I asked her if he was eating. She said his appetite has come back and that he has seemed a bit stronger. I had to agree that he seemed to be not only in good spirits today but also, seemed stronger in his mobility and his demeanor and that he looked good today. I tried to think of another question to ask.

She asked me again what I thought. I took a deep breath and told her that if the IV chemo was causing possibly irreparable damage to Kenneth’s organs and was not helping then I couldn’t see how it was beneficial to him. I told her that if the doctor felt like it was detrimental to him that I would have to agree. I said this last part almost as a whisper…I’m always quick to share my opinion...oftentimes, too quick. But the reality of the consequences of this opinion loomed large. I was scared to say it but I was honest in my opinion.

Danelia smiled and looked relieved. That was the decision she and Arturo had made and she was glad that I agreed. I smiled in return and I’m sure I must have looked just as relieved as she did. She and Arturo had already made a decision. They were trying to protect Kenneth as much as they could and they had decided to just continue with the pills and not to do the IV chemo. My opinion was just that…my opinion. Thank you, Lord. The weight of that burden was huge on my shoulders for the few minutes I carried it. My heart filled with compassion as I realized that she and Arturo carried that burden, only much heavier, with every decision they have had to make regarding Kenneth’s care.

I told her God is Kenneth’s creator and that He knows Kenneth’s body and all that is going on with it. I said that I thought the doctors now were doing all that they could do but that they are not God. And God has a plan that we may not understand. She agreed and she asked if we would keep praying. I hugged her tightly and assured her we would and told her we loved Kenneth very much. She solemnly nodded her head and said she knew that. I also told her that we had many friends across the United States who were also praying for Kenneth. She knows that, too and she said that brings her great comfort.

It was time for us to go. As we walked to the car, Kenneth appeared from around the corner to give us our good-bye hugs and kisses. He had been listening. Our eyes met. I winked at him and he smiled back. I was struck by how wise those big brown eyes looked above that ever-present mask of his. Kenneth knows. He knows he has a terrible disease and he knows that the doctors have said that the medicine won’t work anymore. He knows that this disease and these doctors make his mother cry endless tears and his father rage at an invisible enemy. He knows that he didn’t have to get poked and prodded this week with injections and IVs. He knows that means he didn’t spend the last few days throwing up and being flat on his back. He knows he feels better right now. He knows he’s hungry every day again and he knows that his mom makes the best rice and beans. He knows that it’s funny when a bird drops a little bomb on his special friend and that she thinks it’s okay if he laughs. He knows that he felt like laughing. He is old enough to know he has today and that’s enough and he knows that he’s too young to worry about tomorrow. And he knows Jesus. We should all be as wise as Kenneth.

They came, they blessed, they left...

It’s hard to believe that our church family team has been gone for only a week…it seems like it’s been much longer than that. The time they were here just flew by (for us, anyway!) and the days between their arrival and their departure were only a blink in time. In this blog, I will give you just an overview of the team’s week here…yes, it’s long, but it’s still an overview! There’s just too much to try to write it all down in one blog.

Saturday, the 26th of September…a team of eight from First Baptist Church, Cassville, MO (our home church) and a couple from Lone Star Baptist Church, Willard, MO (our second “home” church) arrived to spend a week here, building a house in Los Cedros for Juan and Nohemi Diaz Morales, a young couple with two small children. The team was also going to be ministering to some of the local people through a home visitation program plus they planned on having a small daily VBE for the neighborhood children.

Jim, Miguel and I had spent the day getting the final preparations completed for their arrival, buying supplies for the team and buying a bed for Juan and Nohemi. It was a long, busy day but one of great anticipation on our end to see those precious faces of folks we love so much.

Our Missions Director of FBC, Jackie Hendrix, served as the Team Leader. She took care of all the State-side preparations for the team who was comprised of James Weaver (the Pastor of FBC), Chuck and Jeanna Jones (Jeanna is the Children’s Minister at FBC), Linda Lowe, (FBC Secretary), Geneva Hicks, Nora Young, Sam Hamblett (our 12 year old grandson), and from Lone Star, Allan and Beverly Trantham. Each and every one of them are precious people to us and they all made for one amazing team!

The rest of our team that week was made up of three Nica translators – Miguel (our friend, who is still in the process of learning English), Jonathan and Hazel, both of whom speak very good English. While the team stayed at a guesthouse close to our home, the translators stayed here with us.

I have been unusually blessed in my lifetime to have traveled to 17 different countries but I think coming through the Managua airport for the first time, is a memorable experience. We had been praying for this team for some time – that they would have an uneventful flight and that their entry would be uneventful, as well. And God’s will was that it was so! They didn’t have to open a single bag and made it through customs in record time!

Jim and I had Miguel with us and our friend, David, came to the airport to help us transport the luggage. We rented David’s 16 passenger van for the week (I might add that I think that description should include that it is for 16 very skinny passengers with 1 or less pieces of very skinny luggage!) I was glad David helped us out using his Land Cruiser on the transportation of the luggage!

Jim and I had been so excited for this team to arrive but I certainly wasn’t prepared for the flood of emotions that swept over me when I saw ten orange t-shirts walk in to the luggage area. I thought my heart would explode and then, when I saw Sam, so handsome and grown up, I couldn’t contain it any longer. The tears came and continued to come as I hugged and kissed each and every one of those folks as they emerged on our side of the glass door. We created quite a traffic jam in the airport and continued to do so as we moved out on to the sidewalk to wait for David to arrive with his car. I’m sure we only added to the normally chaotic atmosphere of that airport.

We took them directly to the Guesthouse, a drive of about 45 minutes, where they were going to be spending the next week. It is a lovely place with a lovely view and a bit of a tropical feel but still with amenities made for Americans. Each room had its own air conditioning, bathroom, ceiling fan, color tv and hot water. There is a beautiful swimming pool and several great outside covered areas for meals and meetings. The team had a light late-night supper and we got them all settled in. It was so good to see everyone that it was hard to leave them that night, although everyone was tired from a day of traveling and needed to rest.

Sunday, the 27th…The next morning, Jim, Miguel and I drove over to the guesthouse to eat breakfast with the team before we left for church. We would continue to join the team for both breakfast and dinner the rest of the week. That Sunday morning, we went to the international church (ICF) where the team had the opportunity to spiritually recharge for the week to come.

Right after church, we drove to the Boer Market to buy the rest of the supplies that we would need for the 12 Blessing Buckets the team was planning on distributing during the week to 12 different families in Los Cedros. The Boer is a good representation of where the locals shop and although it doesn’t offer all the variety of goods or the cheapest of prices as does the Oriental Market, it’s also much safer.

We also met Jonathan there, one of our translators for the week. The stand where we usually buy such “bucket” items was closed, so we had to go “deep” in to the Boer to buy our supplies. The team members were such great sports about having to haul out all the really heavy bags of food and although it was stifling hot in the market, they continued to be a joy. No complaints.

After the market, we returned to the guesthouse to unload the items and then left to go eat lunch. We went to Rosti Pollos, which is a great place to take a team for its first day in hot Managua…it’s air conditioned and the food is good.

After lunch, we drove over to our second market for the day – Huembes. There, we met our third translator, Hazel. It was so good to see her again…she’s such a sweet gal and she has a special place in my heart. I knew she would do well with this team as her spirit is gentle and she is always willing to do whatever she can to help someone.

The front part of Huembes is more of a tourist market and although it was getting to be late in the day to be shopping (it was Sunday and they close early), it gave the team an idea of items to buy and the costs of such items. It was also a good time to visit it for the first time as it wasn’t busy so the team members who had never experienced a market atmosphere like that, got to kind of ease in to it. Actually, after our earlier trip to the Boer, I’m sure Huembes was a walk in the park for all of them.

We returned to the Guesthouse and the team assembled the Blessing Buckets, utilizing the meeting space which was ideal for such an activity. Due to the amount and size of the food allotments, we also used big rice bags to hold the overflow of items. This was a double blessing in itself as both the bucket and bag would be serviceable items to the families receiving them.

Each bucket and bag combo contained a large supply of rice and beans, plus sugar, salt, cooking oil, corn flour for tortillas, oatmeal, soup mixes, spaghetti, ketchup, soap powder, soap balls, bar soap, toilet paper and matches plus a New Testament, a tract and a 31 day devotional – all in Spanish.

Monday, the 28th – Thursday, Oct. 1 – This is supposed to be the rainy season but we’ve had very little rain at all. As a matter of fact, we’re facing a pretty serious drought. All along, we had been concerned about the team trying to build a house in pouring rain…not a problem! The problem was trying to build a house in the blistering sun and relentless heat. The first day took its toll on everyone.

One thing this team did not lack was desire. They attacked building this house with a vengeance. The problem with desire is it is hard pressed to beat that sneaky ol’ enemy known as dehydration. After several on the team became sick from the heat and not taking in enough fluids, the entire team agreed to pace themselves a little slower with lots of water breaks. That suited this out of shape ol’ lady just fine!

The building site sits on the top of a small hill which sits at the base of a huge hill. The roads in Los Cedros are mostly dirt with the majority of them being pretty bad. The road up to the job site ranked as one of the worst. We were only able to drive part of the way up and had to walk the remainder. Thankfully, it wasn’t far but the hill was steep enough to be felt by those who are used to walking on flat pavement or tile and carpeted floors.

Our team worked with a small Nicaraguan crew on the construction of the house. Jorge was the foreman, Juan and his brother were the sweat equity team, Norling (who used a crutch due to a leg injury) and Moses finished out the Nica crew.

I will share more about some of these people in the days to come but right now, I want to give an overview of the week. The FBC team began their work day in Los Cedros between 8:00 and 9:00 a.m. (after a 30-40 minute drive from Managua), had about an hour for lunch and then returned to work, ending the day about 4:30 – 5:00 p.m. Lunch each day was at the school where Jim and I teach. We had great Nica meals made by several of the ladies from the church and served to us at the little mission house on the school grounds. It was a nice respite from the sun and gave everyone a chance to rest and recharge.

While the construction team worked, another group, headed up by Jeanna Jones, did VBS activities twice a day for the kids who eagerly assembled, ready for the games, the stories, the songs and the activities. The great thing about kids is that even the language barrier isn’t a barrier with them. We had to laugh about one of the little girls serving as a translator for the group…the reason this is funny is that she doesn’t speak hardly any English…but she understood very well what was needed and she didn’t hesitate to help out in that area.

The kids loved the time Jeanna had set aside for them. Every morning, there would be a group waiting for us and then the scene would be repeated again in the afternoon… the faces changed but not the excited attitudes.

While the VBS group was working with the children, Jim chauffeured the Blessing Bucket team each morning and afternoon to make their deliveries to homes that had already been selected by Pastor Manuel. He’s the pastor of Iglesia del Ebenezer which is the church we were supporting with our efforts that week. 6 of the homes were church members that were selected for their need to receive the buckets and 6 were non-churched families in the community. I think the team members that went on these visits would agree that was a privilege to be a part of that ministry.

Thursday, the 1st -Beverly, Geneva, Linda and I went in to Managua to finish up the shopping for the items the team was going to bless Juan and Nohemi with for their new home on the following day. This was my “girls day out” time which I’ve not had for such a terribly long time. We jabbered, laughed, teared up a bit and jabbered some more! We managed to work in a good lunch with a shared dessert. It was a great gift of time those ladies gave me. They also bought me a beautiful necklace as a reminder of our day together...I was so touched by their thoughtfulness. And the other gift they gave me without even realizing it? They gave me the confidence I have lacked to drive in to Managua...I did it and we all survived! I'm assuming everyone in all the cars around me did also...

Friday, Oct. 2nd - The team did an amazing job of getting most of the house done and on their last day, Friday, they brought all the housewarming gifts to Juan and Nohemi. Men here usually don’t show much emotion on things like that, even if they are very appreciative. It’s just not done. But Juan, couldn’t control his emotions and began to cry when he saw a bed being carried up the hill! Nohemi was overcome by all of it. She had said she had been asking God for 4 years to provide them with a house and she never gave up believing that He would do that for them. She said that day had come. Her faith was inspirational to all of us.

After saying their good-byes to Juan, Nohemi and their family, the Nica work crew and the neighborhood kids, the team went to the school for their final lunch for the week. They took a few minutes and visited several of the classrooms and after lunch, the team broke up in to small groups and began prayer walking some of the streets of Los Cedros.

After the team finished their prayer walking and visiting with some of the local people, we all loaded up in the van and headed to Huembes again for the team to be able to buy gifts and mementos of their time here. When the shopping time came to a close, we then headed back to the guesthouse for dinner. Jairo and Marta, the owners of the guesthouse, hired a marimba band to come and play as a special treat for the team. They were quite good…and LOUD!

We left early to take Jonathan home (Hazel was only able to stay with us until Wednesday) and Miguel was going to stay with us until Saturday to help us see the team off at the airport.

Saturday, Oct. 3rd - Saturday morning came very early and way too soon for us…we had to leave the guesthouse at 4:30 a.m. for the airport. Thankfully, we were able to get everyone and their luggage in the van. Three action packers were staying behind. I hardly could bear the thought of saying good bye to everyone.

After getting everyone checked in and ready for their flight, it was time for our good-byes. It was more difficult than I had thought it would be. The tears came with the first good-bye and by the time we reached Sam, who was the last one to go through the security doors, I thought my heart was going to break. I hate airport good-byes. They always come too quickly and aren’t nearly long enough.

We stayed and watched until we could no longer see any part of our group. Jim and Miguel turned me towards the door and we walked out, quietly. The tears kept coming. Miguel so badly wanted to comfort but just didn’t know how. He simply said, “I’m sorry.” That was enough.

There’s so much I want to share about that week but I will have to do that in bits and pieces. This has given you a good overview of what the week was about but even if I were to write until the cows come home, I don’t think I could cover every remarkable moment we experienced or witnessed. I just believe God’s presence was so evident and His working so obvious that perhaps I can share it as it comes to me in the days to come.

If you are from FBC or Lone Star, let me assure you that those who represented you that week did a sterling job of doing so. If you are not familiar with any of those who were here, I want you to know that you may not be blessed in this life with their acquaintance, but someday in heaven, if you are a follower of Jesus, you are going to meet some precious brothers and sisters in Christ and hopefully, you will be able to also meet those whose lives they impacted that week in Nicaragua.

Xander the Great

I was going to write about last week with the team, but out of deference to my daughter, Mandy, I decided first to tell you about the newest addition to the Curtis family – Xander. Xander is our 8 week old mixed breed puppy. “Mixed breed” sounds so much more refined than “mutt”, doesn’t it? We didn’t get to see either the mother or the father of Xander but just from looking at him, I would almost guess he has some shepherd in him.

We have been praying for some time about getting a dog. I have resisted doing this for the simple fact, I get so attached to my animals that when we have to get rid of them (as we did when we moved here) or when we’ve lost them to death, I am an emotional wreck. I realize not everyone feels so strongly about animals but I know there are a few out there who understand exactly what I’m talking about.

My other hesitation is we’re on the go so much. We are committed to activities three times a week that keep us from the house much of the day. Having a dog brings responsibility, changes schedules, adds accountability in a new way…sounds kind of like having a baby, doesn’t it?

Our home security situation has become such that we decided it was going to be necessary to add a guard dog to the “payroll”. Susanna had generously offered Pixie to us and we love her to pieces. But, after we had some strangers come to the gate and call to Pixie AND she responded with wiggles and licks, we decided she is a great with hospitality but not so great at being a guard dog! I think if she could, she would open the gate and invite anyone in as long as they acted glad to see her.

We started looking seriously for a dog. Several opportunities came up to buy a variety of pups, such as German Shepherds, Rottweilers, Weimaraners, etc. from Americans living here but the price was just more than we felt we could pay. Margarita and Felix each told us about people they knew who had puppies but I just wasn’t excited about buying a “Nica” dog. That prejudice was based on the street dogs we see running loose. They all look like they’ve come from the same litter, regardless of their color. I wanted something different but just didn’t know what.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I wanted a sweet little lap dog that would turn into Cujo if someone tried to climb the fence or break in. Jim convinced me that very few Shih Tzus sound vicious enough to deter a burglar. He wanted a guard dog that would protect our home and our person. I don’t know that lap-sitting was necessarily part of his criteria. So, we were at a stalemate on the dog issue. We just kept praying God would bring the right dog for us…one that we both would love and one that would do the job we needed him to do.

One night, the week before the team came, Ramon, the security guard next door, brought a puppy with him along with his other two dogs that accompany him everywhere. He and Jim were out at the gate talking. Evidently, Felix, our guard, and Ramon have built up a friendship of sorts. Felix has been witnessing to Ramon and although Ramon is not a Christian, he is fascinated with the American missionaries who live next door to his employer. He always acts so glad to see us and loves to talk with Jim. When we’re gone in the afternoon, he will often sit outside the gate of our neighbor’s so that he can also keep an eye on our place, as well.

Ramon showed the puppy to Jim. Jim immediately came down to the house to tell me that Ramon had a puppy and he asked if I wanted to come see it. For a split second, I thought about saying no, assuming it was a typical Nica pup. But, the lure of holding a puppy for a little bit proved to be too strong and so I went up the driveway to see Ramon holding the cutest little fat ball of fur!

He pushed him through the bars at me and the puppy snuggled in. He was 6 weeks old at the time and was just as sweet as could be. Of course, I was a goner. I asked Ramon to tell me about him. He assured me his parents were brave and very strong and that he was a beautiful “baron” (male). I expected this and took it with a grain of salt but I could see that the puppy was well-taken care of, comparatively speaking, and that if his paws were any indication, he was going to be bigger than a duck. (that’s a family joke…)

I asked Ramon how much he was selling him for and he told me 200 cordobas. That’s about $10. He also told me he had other puppies if I would want to look at them. I told him no, that we were wanting a male and that this puppy was beautiful. I know that Ramon would have sold him for less if I asked, but it’s not hard to see that Ramon scrapes as is, to make his very small ends meet. God impressed on me this was not a time to bargain.

It didn’t take a full minute for Jim and I to decide to buy the puppy. I told Ramon we wanted the puppy and his half-toothless smile reached from ear to ear. He kept assuring me what a good dog he was and that he was the most beautiful one of all his puppies. He was so happy, that even if I would have experienced buyer’s remorse, which I didn’t, I could never have changed my mind.

I told Ramon about the group coming and that we wouldn’t be home much the following week. I asked him if he would keep the dog for me for two weeks. His smile began to fade. I told him I would pay him half right then and the other half when we got the puppy. The smile returned. He said he would take good care of him until we could take him. I went into the house and got 100 cord and brought it out to Ramon. He again assured us that the puppy was a good dog and that he would take very good care of him. I was hoping he would follow through on that promise.

Well, two days ago, we found out Ramon was indeed true to his word. When Felix came to work that night, Jim asked him if Ramon was next door because we were ready for our puppy. Felix said that Ramon had brought the puppy but he wanted to bathe him first as he had fleas and ticks. I wasn’t surprised…but later, I was surprised at how many he had. Poor little guy was covered!

The exchange was joyful for all concerned but Xander. He missed his mama and he wasn’t at all sure about becoming a gringo dog. Our first night was a little rough…well, as a matter of fact, so was last night. I’m hoping that gets better.

Yesterday, we took him to the vet to get his shots and get de-wormed. The vet agreed that he was about 8 weeks old and with the exception of the fleas, ticks and worm problem (which is rampant here), the vet said he looked to be in reasonably good health. He kept him for a few hours to give him a flea and tick bath and treated him for worms. We take Xander back on Saturday to get his first shot.

Xander is still adjusting to being without brothers, sisters and mama. He’s managed to chase Snoops and Skits several times, trying to play, and gotten a thankless swat on the nose in return. The “boys” have not yet bonded. We bought a pet carrier (at a price which could have financed a Broadway play!) in the hopes we could get him to snuggle in to it last night. Maybe tonight.

I told one of my friends that we should have named him Obama because I think he’s going to cost us a lot more than we were expecting. I won’t go in to all the reasons why I couldn’t do that but suffice to say, the dog’s name is Xander.

We’re in the process of housebreaking him and hopefully, he’ll prove to be a quick learner as well as cute puppy. Right now, it’s hard to imagine he’ll ever be a guard dog. He’s curled up on my feet as I type this. He is easily startled and is very vocal about everything. He’s either a constant complainer or he’s a perfect dog for me, very talkative! I’m hoping it’s the latter.

Okay, his name. What does it mean and how did we come up with it? Names are a big deal to me with my animals. They always have to be the “right” one. No name seemed to jump out at us. So, I got to thinking. We paid $10 for this puppy. Do you know whose picture is on the $10 bill? Yep, you guessed it. Alexander Hamilton. He was our first Secretary of the Treasury. Although at times, a man of dubious moral character, he is credited for saying one of my favorite quotes, “Those who stand for nothing fall for anything.” But I didn’t want a dog named Alexander…too formal. If you know Jim and me, we eliminated formal from our personal vocabulary some time ago.

Xander…we liked the name Xander. It’s different and he kind of looks like a Xander…although I’m not completely sure how a Xander is supposed to look. I looked the name up on a baby name website to see if there was any “meaning” to it. Of course, it is short for Alexander but what I read next was the clincher regarding picking his name…it is of Greek origin and means “man’s defender or warrior.” Woo-hoo!! We got us a guard dog!!! I have to go now…I have to move Xander off my feet so I can carry him outside. Poor thing is tired. It’s hard work being a great warrior and defender.

More on Kenneth...

The last few weeks have been a blur. Last time I wrote you we were trying to get the name of the chemo drug we needed for Kenneth. Instead of detailing all of the emotional highs and lows over the last two weeks regarding his care, I will just simply bring you up to date. This will be kind of like the Cliff’s Note’s Version of the blog. If you remember, we were trying to find a particular chemo drug for Kenneth. And although we finally found out the name of the drug and even found a source from where we could buy it, we ended up being told that the drug would not work for Kenneth due to the high risk of serious heart problems as a consequence of some earlier radiation treatments.

There was another chemo treatment which they tried but again, the companion drug was not to be found. Jim and I looked for two days straight, visiting all the larger pharmacies, the hospital pharmacies and even a pharmacy that specializes in onocological drugs. We even had Susanna making calls for us in hopes that between all of us, we might find it. Most pharmacies had never heard of it, the onocological pharmacy said it wasn’t available in Nicaragua. The precious drug was becoming more precious and it was more elusive than the proverbial needle in a haystack.

The search went out for it in Costa Rica, Honduras and even Guatamala. The answer was it was not to be found in all of Central America. We then received the most devastating news of all. The doctors made the decision to discontinue his chemo since the companion drug cannot be found in Central America…there feeling is it wouldn’t be productive to continue. Then, the board of doctors at La Mascota met and agreed there is nothing more that can be done for Kenneth.

Our next step is to see if we can find the drug in the U.S and pursue having it brought down or if the doctors are completely closed to continuing with treatment. Sadly, it seems that is the direction we’re headed. There is such frustration with all of this…we had a team from our home church come down last week and if we could have just known all this before they came, Kenneth could now be taking the new chemo.

Now, let me say that just because this all sounds so factual…so cut and dried…don’t for one moment think this hasn’t been one of the most emotional and gut-wrenching things I’ve gone through for some time. I just can’t let myself go on this. I feel like I will fly apart. I felt like that when my dad died and again, when my mom died a few years ago. I will wake up in the middle of the night and wonder what can we do next, how can we cheat death for a little while longer? How far do we go? How many doors do we knock on and how many questions do we ask? How many times do we pose…”Isn’t there anything else that can be done?” When do we accept what to me is the unacceptable? How do we let go? When do I become unselfish enough to honestly and completely want Jesus to hold Kenneth in His arms instead of me holding him in mine?

Kenneth’s not of my flesh, but he is in my heart…and yet, the truth of it is my own heartache can’t compare to what Danelia and Arturo are experiencing. This is so hard and it’s so hard to watch. I sometimes find myself telling God this isn’t what I signed up for…and He gently replies that His grace is sufficient. And it is…I know it is because I know Him. And because I know Him, I trust Him. And because I trust Him, I believe that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him. Kenneth loves God, Danelia loves God and so do I. So although the way is hard right now, we walk by faith and not by sight and we know that when we come out on the other side of this, we will continue to praise our Lord and God. Thank you, Father, for the comfort of your Word and the sweetness of your presence through the Holy Spirit. Thank you, Jesus, for being our Hope so that we will never have to mourn like those who have no hope. Thank you, Lord, for never leaving or forsaking us.

Please continue to pray for Kenneth and his family.