This is our second Thanksgiving Day away from friends and family - and as much as we wish we were with our families, we are extremely thankful that the Lord is with us! We have chosen to celebrate this day of remembering how much we have to be thankful for by having a quiet day of reflexion at home. Because the cost of a turkey remains outrageous ($50-$75), we're going to be giving our Thanksgiving blessing over a roasted chicken instead.
The positive to being in Nicaragua for Thanksgiving is that it's not a holiday that's celebrated here. Sounds strange that I would consider that a positive, doesn't it? But, if I have forgotten a key ingredient or run out of something, the grocery store is open, if we need to transact business, the banks are open and the moneychangers are working, if we need to run to the doctor or to the pharmacy, it's business as usual. It's like I think I said last year...the Nicas could care less about us celebrating the Pilgrims making it through their first winter in their new country.
Our dinner will be simple...I've already mentioned that we're having a roasted chicken instead of a turkey. We'll have mashed potatoes, corn and our "treat"...I found some Stove Top Stuffing here! I'm saving our canned pumpkin for Christmas so I'll probably just fix Jim some brownies instead. I could say that Thanksgiving is not about the food but truthfully, our ritual for so many years included a big, traditional Thanksgiving meal. There's nothing like the combination of such savory smells as a beautifully cooked turkey, pumpkin pie and fresh baked rolls to be the olfactory definition of "holiday"!
I can remember thinking a few years back that it would be so nice for someone else to be fixing Thanksgiving dinner for a change...I should have known to be careful what I was wishing for 'cause it just might come about. Now, I wish I were back in my old kitchen on Chinquapin, in Cassville, stirring the gravy, putting the turkey on the platter and watching to make sure the rolls don't burn while listening to the kids playing in the family room, talking with Mandy in the kitchen as Jim puts more wood on the fire and waiting for Sadie to arrive from K.C. I know that was a busy sentence...but Thanksgiving Day was a busy day in my little kitchen and it often seemed just as breathless as the memories of those times leave me!
Although we were practically on top of each other there, it never seemed too crowded...I think there's always enough room where ever you are for the people you love. I can almost smell the wood fire (I love that smell!) and hear Maddie, Sam and Ben laughing! When it was time to eat, we would all gather in the kitchen, circle around the kitchen table, join hands and pray before we would sit down in our respective spots...I always loved that moment. That circle was such a visual representation of the work God had done in our family...each one of us tightly holding on to another.
Of course, we ate too much, talked like we hadn't seen each other in years and laughed at each other's jokes. We were a family who truly enjoyed one another's company and still do...God has blessed us immeasurably in that way. What special times those were...which were repeated at Christmas, Easter, birthdays...family dinners when we were all together. Wow...I have some wonderful memories to reflect on this Thanksgiving Day. Good memories...just another thing to thank the Lord for today!
Happy Thanksgiving All...take time to cherish the moment!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Sole Brothers...
Third grade is my first class in the mornings at Los Cedros and I was taking role as usual last Tuesday. Luis was absent again. Luis is often absent. I asked Tatiana, who was sitting right in front of the teacher’s desk, if Luis was enfermo (sick), fully expecting her to tell me he was. She said that he was sick but now he’s not. I’m not quite sure I know why I pursued this with her…well, yes, in retrospect, I am very sure I know why I pursued that topic of conversation with Tatiana, but at the moment, I wasn’t even thinking about it…I just was.
Tatiana told me that the reason Luis hadn’t been at school for the last week was because he didn’t have any shoes. “No shoes?” I asked her. She shook her head no and some of the kids began to laugh. A Mama Bear emerged from the English teacher at that moment. I scolded the children for laughing. One of the boys kept laughing and continued to make fun of Luis not having shoes. I turned to him and asked him how he would feel if we took his shoes and he had to go without them the rest of the day. He immediately sobered up and I noticed he tucked his feet tightly under his desk. Great…I was sure he was probably going to go home and tell his mother that the English teacher was terrorizing him by threatening to take away his shoes!
The children told me that Luis was poor. That statement was nothing less than pure irony. They all are poor. But I guess just like most of us, they feel better about their own situation if they find someone who appears to be worse off than they are. Luis, while absent, was making them all feel good at that moment…even though most of them had on ill-fitting shoes themselves it didn’t seem to matter…they had shoes.
After class, I talked with Carla, the regular teacher. She told me that Luis’ mother was a very hard woman and that when Carla had visited their home recently about all of Luis’ absences, the mother didn’t seem to be terribly concerned. Carla indicated that she didn’t know whether the shoe story was legitimate or not. She said that Luis probably would not promote to the 4th grade as he’s not been in class enough this past year to learn the necessary material. And even though I understood and even agreed with holding Luis back, it still made me sad. I was afraid it would just give the children another reason to make fun of Luis.
L
uis is a sweet little guy but he doesn’t bond well with the other boys in the class. He tends to play with the girls and chooses to sit with them in the classroom. And although I’ve never seen him play soccer or baseball with the other boys, that morning was the first time I had ever seen the boys acknowledge his existence, let alone be openly cruel about him. They usually ignored him. Here is a picture of him playing a board game with the girls at recess.
I decided I wanted to ask Pastora if we could buy Luis shoes…he needed to be in school. I was wanting her to find out what size shoes he needed. Unfortunately, Pastora was having conferences with parents all day long and I wasn’t able to talk to her. I saw David and asked him if he would talk to Pastora for me when he had his meeting with her later in the day. He said he would and the day went on. David had an emergency with one of the workers at Pastor Manuel’s church and was going to have to take him to the hospital in Managua. He wasn’t sure when he would be back. I figured I could talk to Pastora after school.
That afternoon, I talked with Luis’ sister, Magela. I had just found out that morning that Luis and Magela were from the same family. That is not unusual for me not to know these things…many last names are different. Last names are formed with both the mother’s maiden name and the father’s names used. It gets confusing, especially in a small town like Los Cedros where it is not uncommon to have several fathers for a family. I generally just know the kids by their first names, not their double last names.
I decided to ask Magela if Luis was sick…I wanted to see if what the kids had told me that morning was true or not. Magela told me that he had been sick but he wasn’t anymore. I asked her why he wasn’t at school. She acted a little embarrassed but told me that he didn’t have any shoes. I didn’t react other than to ask her if she knew what size shoes Luis wore. She hesitated a minute and then looked down at the feet of one of the girls standing not too far from us and said that maybe a little smaller than hers. Okay, I should have known better than to ask a fifth-grader a question like that.
Let me tell you about Magela…she is one I’ve been working on getting to know better. She had some serious discipline problems with her regular teacher a few months ago and had been sent home. I was unaware of that situation but when she began pulling some of the same sort of stuff with me, I warned her several times and when she chose to continue to misbehave, I had to follow through with the consequences, which was having to go speak to Pastora.
Magela was not at all happy about that. She remained cold, distant and hard, refusing to respond to either Pastora or me when we tried talking with her. Pastora told me at that time that Magela’s mother was a very hard and ill-tempered woman and that Magela was just like her. All of that was said within earshot of Magela. That broke my heart and I watched as Magela’s face hardened even more so than previously.
I stepped right in front of Magela and even though she wouldn’t look at me, I told her that I felt like she had great potential and that she could be a very good student. I told her I was worried about her and the choices she was making. I began to list all her good qualities that I had observed in class and finished by telling her that although I saw all those positives in her that disrespect and blatant disobedience would never be permissible in our English class and that rule applied to everyone without exception. She glared at me in return.
I told her I was sorry that she was so angry inside and that I wished I could help her because I cared very much for her. I also told her that I knew that God did not create her to be angry and filled with resentment towards authority and that not all authority was bad. I saw her eyes fill up with tears and I told her that if I could help her with her lessons or if she just needed to talk to someone about things that were bothering her, that even though I didn’t understand Spanish very well, I understood what it felt like to hurt inside. Her tears spilled over. I put my arm around her, kissed her on the top of her head and told her I loved her. She remained stiff as a board and completely silent. I said that the next time we met for class, we would have a fresh start. And then I left her to the lectures of Pastora.
Later on, when I was leaving for the day, I had to drop some things off in the office. Magela was sitting at the table in the outer office, looking at a book. Obviously, Magela was being disciplined. Pastora had left for the day so I turned to leave. I walked over to Magela and it was just the two of us in the office. I put my arm around her and kissed her head again, telling her once more that I cared very much about her and that I would see her in our class the following Tuesday. She quickly gave me a hug and when I looked down at her face, I saw those same teary eyes framed by a much softer face than I had seen earlier.
No more was said about it and the following Tuesday came. Magela w
asn’t there. I wondered about her. But the following Thursday, she was in class and was very well behaved. There were no disruptions, rude comments or fits of anger. She did her work and I made a point of commenting on what a good job she had done. I often pat the kids on the back or touch their shoulder or head as I talk to them or help them with their lessons. I’ve learned that many of them need to learn that not all touches from an adult are hurtful. It has taken a lot of time to get to that point with some of them – Magela being one of those. But we’ve made giant strides in that direction. In this photo, Magela is in the pink blouse standing behind the other two girls.
I interrupted my story about Luis to tell you about Magela so that you would have a better idea about the woman with whom we were dealing regarding this shoe issue. I think that life is so hard in that house and has taken so much from the mother just trying to keep her family going that she has nothing left to give in the way of compassion or tenderness. Unfortunately, that is also shaping her children.
Back to the shoe story…it was time for my last class of the day – 4th grade. Recess happens to be right after my class with them and the kids are always chomping at the bit to get outside to play. When I dismissed them for their recess, I noticed José Abraham, one of the boys who is always one of the first out the door, was still sitting in his chair. I told him he could go on to recess. He said he couldn’t play. I asked him why not and asked if he was in trouble with his regular teacher – which would not be a surprise. He’s another one who has anger control issues and is often in trouble for behavior issues. He shook his head no and pointed down to his feet. The sole was coming off his left shoe. It was a cheaply made shoe and was a type where the sole had been glued on. It was almost completely off. What on earth was going on with this shoe thing?!
I asked him if he had another pair of shoes he could wear to school, thinking we could try to get that pair repaired. He said no – that was his only pair. He looked miserable. We walked out to the playground area and the sole of his shoe flopped as he walked. I asked if he knew what size shoe he wore and he gave me a size. I guess we were going to be buying two pairs of shoes.
Pastora was still tied up when it was time for us to go home. On the way home, Jim and I talked about the boys needing shoes. We knew what size we needed for José Abraham but didn’t know about Luis yet. We decided we would go ahead and buy several pairs of shoes, each pair a different size in hopes that perhaps one pair would fit Luis.
When we got home, we were telling Felix about the shoe situation at school. He told us that we needed to go to the Oriental Market to buy shoes because they carry better shoes than the Israel market and yet they are much cheaper. We reminded Felix that we didn’t go into the Oriental Market so we were willing to pay a little more and go to the Israel. Felix wouldn’t hear of it. He told us he would go for us the next day and would buy whatever kind of shoes we wanted. It was really special to see Felix so eager to be a part of helping someone else. He’s a good Christian and this is not out of character for him but it’s uplifting to see it each time it happens, so we agreed and told him to go the next morning and just come to work afterwards.
I wrote down a list of sizes for Felix and gave him the money…I also gave him the necessary bus fare as the Oriental Market is on the north side of Managua and I knew he would have to take several different buses to get there and back. When he came to work the next day after his trip to the Oriental, he brought the 5 different sizes of tennis shoes for us that we had requested. He was so proud that he had a part in this and detailed each step of his shopping expedition on that hot morning.
The shoes looked like they were actually pretty well made which was a pleasant surprise but the largest pair still looked to be too small for José Abraham. When Jim and I were out doing our errands that day, we decided to run to PayLess to get another pair. Yes, we have PayLess Shoes here but they’re not nearly as cheap as they are in the U.S. So, we may have paid less than if we had bought a pair at the mall, but we paid twice as much as a pair from the Oriental cost! No wonder Felix thought it was worth the time and effort to go there.
Thursday morning at school, I was so excited about the shoes. I could hardly wait to talk to Pastora and as I was finishing up my first class of the day, she came in to the classroom to tell me that school was going to let out at 11:00 that morning and that she had forgotten to let us know. Not a problem…those kinds of surprises, while sometimes are inconvenient, are also serendipitous gifts of time.
I took that opportunity to talk to Pastora about Luis. He wasn’t in class again that morning. Obviously, his mother hadn’t been able to get him shoes yet. Pastora reiterated much of what Carla and the kids had told me which only gave me more assurance that we did the right thing in buying him shoes. I also told her about José Abraham and his shoe issue from Tuesday and told her that if it was okay with her, that we would like to give both the boys a pair of shoes. She shrugged and said that if that’s what we wanted to do. I told her that we would take them to the office and she could be the one to give the kids their shoes. She told me she didn’t have time as she was still having parents’ meetings and that she would rather I just take care of it.
Pastora said that she appreciated us doing that but she was upset with the mother…that she should have come and told the school that the children didn’t have shoes. She said that if the mother didn’t get Luis shoes, then she wouldn’t get José Abraham shoes either. I stopped for a minute and cocked my head trying to figure out if I had understood her correctly. She realized I didn’t understand so she repeated the sentence and then added to it that the children just weren’t well taken care of in their home and that the mother was very hard to talk to about anything.
Oh my goodness! Luis and José Abraham were brothers and Magela was José Abraham’s sister!!! I had no idea. I quickly started thinking on the various behavior issues of each of the children. The common thread between the two oldest seemed to be anger control and Luis was acting out in his own way. That is one hurting family.
I asked Pastora if there was some way to get Luis to the school so we could get him his shoes. She told me that she would send Magela home to get him. Magela said their mother was busy and Pastora told her that she needed to bring Luis to school for just a few minutes. Magela didn’t look happy with her errand but off she went. I told Pastora we would stay until Luis got there.
While waiting on Luis, I went to the 4th grade class which was meeting out in the rancho that morning, and asked the teacher if I could borrow José Abraham for just a few minutes. She said yes. I told him I needed to talk to him and asked him to come with me. He got up and began walking with me. I saw he had on a terrible beat up pair of tennis shoes. I asked him where he got those shoes. He told me they were his cousin’s and he borrowed them to come to school.
I told him I had a surprise for him. He looked up at me and wrinkled his nose in the traditional way they have of doing here…their way of asking “What?” without actually asking. I asked him if he knew Jesus. He said yes. I asked if He believed God cared for him. He kind of shrugged his shoulders and then said yes. I asked him if He believed God gives us gifts. He nodded his head yes, nervously chewing on his fingernails as we walked towards our little house at the school.
When we got to the door, I told him to go on inside. He hesitated for minut
e but then went in. I told him to sit down and then Jim began pulling out the shoes. His eyes got big and he grinned from ear to ear. He quickly pulled off his shoes revealing a dirty, holey sock encasing dirty feet. Again, my heart just hurt. But José Abraham didn’t need my pity…he needed new shoes. So we got down to the business of trying on shoes. Thank goodness, we had gone ahead and bought that additional pair from PayLess as the others were too small. José Abraham was thrilled. I put his cousin’s shoes in a plastic bag and told him I would take them to the office and he could get them on his way home. He's the one on the right in this picture.
I told him that the shoes were a gift from God and not from us. I asked him if he understood that and he said he did. I then told him to go back to class. He jumped up, gave me a hug and then hugged Jim and literally ran back to the rancho. New tennis shoes have to be tried out!
A little later, Pastora came to the door of our casita (our little house) and told us that Luis and his mother were there. I asked them all to come in. We greeted one another but only with handshakes. The woman did not look happy to be there and when she smiled when we were introduced, it was only with her mouth, her eyes remained hard and cold. I felt uneasy…not for myself but for the kids.
Luis had on an old torn pair of chinelas…the cheapest plastic sandals that can be bought here. You see them everywhere. They are made in China and it is the common shoe of the poor. We repeated the trying on of shoes and she picked a pair that was too big for Luis. When Jim told her that he had too much space in the toe, she said that was the pair she wanted. Jim tried the toe length again and asked Luis if the shoes felt too. He looked at his mother and then said the same thing...those were the ones he wanted. Shoes with room to grow for a child whose spirit wasn’t. She stiffly thanked us for the shoes and moved towards the door. She was rough with Luis when she spoke to him and when she pushed him towards the door.
I hugged Luis and told him I missed him in class. I told him he was a very important part of our class and that we were sad when he wasn’t there. He smiled and hugged me. I then looked at his mother and said that now that he had shoes, I hoped to see him the next Tuesday. He nodded his head. She only looked at me and then opened the door to go on outside. Pastora thanked us again for the shoes and then the mother thanked us, but it was more of an obligatory thanks, than true appreciation. We told her that the shoes were a gift from God. She again just looked at us and then turned and walked away. Luis followed.
We were so glad that we could help the boys with shoes – they needed them desperately. I wondered what the mother needed? It would be easy to answer “Jesus”. After all her behavior doesn’t seem to indicate that she is a believer. But I’ve known far too many Christians whose own behavior is far from Christ-like…mine own included at times. It is just so easy to point fingers and assess blame.
All afternoon, I thought about her. Just how difficult life is for her from day to day, I cannot even pretend to know but I can imagine where some of her anger must originate from. The causes are complex. She carries a tremendous burden trying to take care of her 4 children (1 is in public school) and I’m sure that there must be a high level of frustration in seeing that she’s not doing a good job of it. New shoes from the gringa teacher probably didn’t help any with that. I think she probably felt embarrassed about the situation and may have resented our interfering. And although the children are her responsibility, their lack of adequate food and clothing may not be her fault. I don’t know. I do know that at least she’s trying to work. I think instead of trying to assess blame, the better thing to do would be to try to find a solution.
Because ultimately, this isn’t about shoes at all. It’s about people. And as I’m typing this, I hear the Lord speaking to me that I can’t fix people and that it’s not my job to try. My job is to be obedient to whatever the task is He puts before me…whether that is to buy new shoes for hurting children or to pray for their hurting mother. All are in need of sole/soul repair.
Tatiana told me that the reason Luis hadn’t been at school for the last week was because he didn’t have any shoes. “No shoes?” I asked her. She shook her head no and some of the kids began to laugh. A Mama Bear emerged from the English teacher at that moment. I scolded the children for laughing. One of the boys kept laughing and continued to make fun of Luis not having shoes. I turned to him and asked him how he would feel if we took his shoes and he had to go without them the rest of the day. He immediately sobered up and I noticed he tucked his feet tightly under his desk. Great…I was sure he was probably going to go home and tell his mother that the English teacher was terrorizing him by threatening to take away his shoes!
The children told me that Luis was poor. That statement was nothing less than pure irony. They all are poor. But I guess just like most of us, they feel better about their own situation if they find someone who appears to be worse off than they are. Luis, while absent, was making them all feel good at that moment…even though most of them had on ill-fitting shoes themselves it didn’t seem to matter…they had shoes.
After class, I talked with Carla, the regular teacher. She told me that Luis’ mother was a very hard woman and that when Carla had visited their home recently about all of Luis’ absences, the mother didn’t seem to be terribly concerned. Carla indicated that she didn’t know whether the shoe story was legitimate or not. She said that Luis probably would not promote to the 4th grade as he’s not been in class enough this past year to learn the necessary material. And even though I understood and even agreed with holding Luis back, it still made me sad. I was afraid it would just give the children another reason to make fun of Luis.
L
uis is a sweet little guy but he doesn’t bond well with the other boys in the class. He tends to play with the girls and chooses to sit with them in the classroom. And although I’ve never seen him play soccer or baseball with the other boys, that morning was the first time I had ever seen the boys acknowledge his existence, let alone be openly cruel about him. They usually ignored him. Here is a picture of him playing a board game with the girls at recess.I decided I wanted to ask Pastora if we could buy Luis shoes…he needed to be in school. I was wanting her to find out what size shoes he needed. Unfortunately, Pastora was having conferences with parents all day long and I wasn’t able to talk to her. I saw David and asked him if he would talk to Pastora for me when he had his meeting with her later in the day. He said he would and the day went on. David had an emergency with one of the workers at Pastor Manuel’s church and was going to have to take him to the hospital in Managua. He wasn’t sure when he would be back. I figured I could talk to Pastora after school.
That afternoon, I talked with Luis’ sister, Magela. I had just found out that morning that Luis and Magela were from the same family. That is not unusual for me not to know these things…many last names are different. Last names are formed with both the mother’s maiden name and the father’s names used. It gets confusing, especially in a small town like Los Cedros where it is not uncommon to have several fathers for a family. I generally just know the kids by their first names, not their double last names.
I decided to ask Magela if Luis was sick…I wanted to see if what the kids had told me that morning was true or not. Magela told me that he had been sick but he wasn’t anymore. I asked her why he wasn’t at school. She acted a little embarrassed but told me that he didn’t have any shoes. I didn’t react other than to ask her if she knew what size shoes Luis wore. She hesitated a minute and then looked down at the feet of one of the girls standing not too far from us and said that maybe a little smaller than hers. Okay, I should have known better than to ask a fifth-grader a question like that.
Let me tell you about Magela…she is one I’ve been working on getting to know better. She had some serious discipline problems with her regular teacher a few months ago and had been sent home. I was unaware of that situation but when she began pulling some of the same sort of stuff with me, I warned her several times and when she chose to continue to misbehave, I had to follow through with the consequences, which was having to go speak to Pastora.
Magela was not at all happy about that. She remained cold, distant and hard, refusing to respond to either Pastora or me when we tried talking with her. Pastora told me at that time that Magela’s mother was a very hard and ill-tempered woman and that Magela was just like her. All of that was said within earshot of Magela. That broke my heart and I watched as Magela’s face hardened even more so than previously.
I stepped right in front of Magela and even though she wouldn’t look at me, I told her that I felt like she had great potential and that she could be a very good student. I told her I was worried about her and the choices she was making. I began to list all her good qualities that I had observed in class and finished by telling her that although I saw all those positives in her that disrespect and blatant disobedience would never be permissible in our English class and that rule applied to everyone without exception. She glared at me in return.
I told her I was sorry that she was so angry inside and that I wished I could help her because I cared very much for her. I also told her that I knew that God did not create her to be angry and filled with resentment towards authority and that not all authority was bad. I saw her eyes fill up with tears and I told her that if I could help her with her lessons or if she just needed to talk to someone about things that were bothering her, that even though I didn’t understand Spanish very well, I understood what it felt like to hurt inside. Her tears spilled over. I put my arm around her, kissed her on the top of her head and told her I loved her. She remained stiff as a board and completely silent. I said that the next time we met for class, we would have a fresh start. And then I left her to the lectures of Pastora.
Later on, when I was leaving for the day, I had to drop some things off in the office. Magela was sitting at the table in the outer office, looking at a book. Obviously, Magela was being disciplined. Pastora had left for the day so I turned to leave. I walked over to Magela and it was just the two of us in the office. I put my arm around her and kissed her head again, telling her once more that I cared very much about her and that I would see her in our class the following Tuesday. She quickly gave me a hug and when I looked down at her face, I saw those same teary eyes framed by a much softer face than I had seen earlier.
No more was said about it and the following Tuesday came. Magela w
asn’t there. I wondered about her. But the following Thursday, she was in class and was very well behaved. There were no disruptions, rude comments or fits of anger. She did her work and I made a point of commenting on what a good job she had done. I often pat the kids on the back or touch their shoulder or head as I talk to them or help them with their lessons. I’ve learned that many of them need to learn that not all touches from an adult are hurtful. It has taken a lot of time to get to that point with some of them – Magela being one of those. But we’ve made giant strides in that direction. In this photo, Magela is in the pink blouse standing behind the other two girls.I interrupted my story about Luis to tell you about Magela so that you would have a better idea about the woman with whom we were dealing regarding this shoe issue. I think that life is so hard in that house and has taken so much from the mother just trying to keep her family going that she has nothing left to give in the way of compassion or tenderness. Unfortunately, that is also shaping her children.
Back to the shoe story…it was time for my last class of the day – 4th grade. Recess happens to be right after my class with them and the kids are always chomping at the bit to get outside to play. When I dismissed them for their recess, I noticed José Abraham, one of the boys who is always one of the first out the door, was still sitting in his chair. I told him he could go on to recess. He said he couldn’t play. I asked him why not and asked if he was in trouble with his regular teacher – which would not be a surprise. He’s another one who has anger control issues and is often in trouble for behavior issues. He shook his head no and pointed down to his feet. The sole was coming off his left shoe. It was a cheaply made shoe and was a type where the sole had been glued on. It was almost completely off. What on earth was going on with this shoe thing?!
I asked him if he had another pair of shoes he could wear to school, thinking we could try to get that pair repaired. He said no – that was his only pair. He looked miserable. We walked out to the playground area and the sole of his shoe flopped as he walked. I asked if he knew what size shoe he wore and he gave me a size. I guess we were going to be buying two pairs of shoes.
Pastora was still tied up when it was time for us to go home. On the way home, Jim and I talked about the boys needing shoes. We knew what size we needed for José Abraham but didn’t know about Luis yet. We decided we would go ahead and buy several pairs of shoes, each pair a different size in hopes that perhaps one pair would fit Luis.
When we got home, we were telling Felix about the shoe situation at school. He told us that we needed to go to the Oriental Market to buy shoes because they carry better shoes than the Israel market and yet they are much cheaper. We reminded Felix that we didn’t go into the Oriental Market so we were willing to pay a little more and go to the Israel. Felix wouldn’t hear of it. He told us he would go for us the next day and would buy whatever kind of shoes we wanted. It was really special to see Felix so eager to be a part of helping someone else. He’s a good Christian and this is not out of character for him but it’s uplifting to see it each time it happens, so we agreed and told him to go the next morning and just come to work afterwards.
I wrote down a list of sizes for Felix and gave him the money…I also gave him the necessary bus fare as the Oriental Market is on the north side of Managua and I knew he would have to take several different buses to get there and back. When he came to work the next day after his trip to the Oriental, he brought the 5 different sizes of tennis shoes for us that we had requested. He was so proud that he had a part in this and detailed each step of his shopping expedition on that hot morning.
The shoes looked like they were actually pretty well made which was a pleasant surprise but the largest pair still looked to be too small for José Abraham. When Jim and I were out doing our errands that day, we decided to run to PayLess to get another pair. Yes, we have PayLess Shoes here but they’re not nearly as cheap as they are in the U.S. So, we may have paid less than if we had bought a pair at the mall, but we paid twice as much as a pair from the Oriental cost! No wonder Felix thought it was worth the time and effort to go there.
Thursday morning at school, I was so excited about the shoes. I could hardly wait to talk to Pastora and as I was finishing up my first class of the day, she came in to the classroom to tell me that school was going to let out at 11:00 that morning and that she had forgotten to let us know. Not a problem…those kinds of surprises, while sometimes are inconvenient, are also serendipitous gifts of time.
I took that opportunity to talk to Pastora about Luis. He wasn’t in class again that morning. Obviously, his mother hadn’t been able to get him shoes yet. Pastora reiterated much of what Carla and the kids had told me which only gave me more assurance that we did the right thing in buying him shoes. I also told her about José Abraham and his shoe issue from Tuesday and told her that if it was okay with her, that we would like to give both the boys a pair of shoes. She shrugged and said that if that’s what we wanted to do. I told her that we would take them to the office and she could be the one to give the kids their shoes. She told me she didn’t have time as she was still having parents’ meetings and that she would rather I just take care of it.
Pastora said that she appreciated us doing that but she was upset with the mother…that she should have come and told the school that the children didn’t have shoes. She said that if the mother didn’t get Luis shoes, then she wouldn’t get José Abraham shoes either. I stopped for a minute and cocked my head trying to figure out if I had understood her correctly. She realized I didn’t understand so she repeated the sentence and then added to it that the children just weren’t well taken care of in their home and that the mother was very hard to talk to about anything.
Oh my goodness! Luis and José Abraham were brothers and Magela was José Abraham’s sister!!! I had no idea. I quickly started thinking on the various behavior issues of each of the children. The common thread between the two oldest seemed to be anger control and Luis was acting out in his own way. That is one hurting family.
I asked Pastora if there was some way to get Luis to the school so we could get him his shoes. She told me that she would send Magela home to get him. Magela said their mother was busy and Pastora told her that she needed to bring Luis to school for just a few minutes. Magela didn’t look happy with her errand but off she went. I told Pastora we would stay until Luis got there.
While waiting on Luis, I went to the 4th grade class which was meeting out in the rancho that morning, and asked the teacher if I could borrow José Abraham for just a few minutes. She said yes. I told him I needed to talk to him and asked him to come with me. He got up and began walking with me. I saw he had on a terrible beat up pair of tennis shoes. I asked him where he got those shoes. He told me they were his cousin’s and he borrowed them to come to school.
I told him I had a surprise for him. He looked up at me and wrinkled his nose in the traditional way they have of doing here…their way of asking “What?” without actually asking. I asked him if he knew Jesus. He said yes. I asked if He believed God cared for him. He kind of shrugged his shoulders and then said yes. I asked him if He believed God gives us gifts. He nodded his head yes, nervously chewing on his fingernails as we walked towards our little house at the school.
When we got to the door, I told him to go on inside. He hesitated for minut
e but then went in. I told him to sit down and then Jim began pulling out the shoes. His eyes got big and he grinned from ear to ear. He quickly pulled off his shoes revealing a dirty, holey sock encasing dirty feet. Again, my heart just hurt. But José Abraham didn’t need my pity…he needed new shoes. So we got down to the business of trying on shoes. Thank goodness, we had gone ahead and bought that additional pair from PayLess as the others were too small. José Abraham was thrilled. I put his cousin’s shoes in a plastic bag and told him I would take them to the office and he could get them on his way home. He's the one on the right in this picture.I told him that the shoes were a gift from God and not from us. I asked him if he understood that and he said he did. I then told him to go back to class. He jumped up, gave me a hug and then hugged Jim and literally ran back to the rancho. New tennis shoes have to be tried out!
A little later, Pastora came to the door of our casita (our little house) and told us that Luis and his mother were there. I asked them all to come in. We greeted one another but only with handshakes. The woman did not look happy to be there and when she smiled when we were introduced, it was only with her mouth, her eyes remained hard and cold. I felt uneasy…not for myself but for the kids.
Luis had on an old torn pair of chinelas…the cheapest plastic sandals that can be bought here. You see them everywhere. They are made in China and it is the common shoe of the poor. We repeated the trying on of shoes and she picked a pair that was too big for Luis. When Jim told her that he had too much space in the toe, she said that was the pair she wanted. Jim tried the toe length again and asked Luis if the shoes felt too. He looked at his mother and then said the same thing...those were the ones he wanted. Shoes with room to grow for a child whose spirit wasn’t. She stiffly thanked us for the shoes and moved towards the door. She was rough with Luis when she spoke to him and when she pushed him towards the door.
I hugged Luis and told him I missed him in class. I told him he was a very important part of our class and that we were sad when he wasn’t there. He smiled and hugged me. I then looked at his mother and said that now that he had shoes, I hoped to see him the next Tuesday. He nodded his head. She only looked at me and then opened the door to go on outside. Pastora thanked us again for the shoes and then the mother thanked us, but it was more of an obligatory thanks, than true appreciation. We told her that the shoes were a gift from God. She again just looked at us and then turned and walked away. Luis followed.
We were so glad that we could help the boys with shoes – they needed them desperately. I wondered what the mother needed? It would be easy to answer “Jesus”. After all her behavior doesn’t seem to indicate that she is a believer. But I’ve known far too many Christians whose own behavior is far from Christ-like…mine own included at times. It is just so easy to point fingers and assess blame.
All afternoon, I thought about her. Just how difficult life is for her from day to day, I cannot even pretend to know but I can imagine where some of her anger must originate from. The causes are complex. She carries a tremendous burden trying to take care of her 4 children (1 is in public school) and I’m sure that there must be a high level of frustration in seeing that she’s not doing a good job of it. New shoes from the gringa teacher probably didn’t help any with that. I think she probably felt embarrassed about the situation and may have resented our interfering. And although the children are her responsibility, their lack of adequate food and clothing may not be her fault. I don’t know. I do know that at least she’s trying to work. I think instead of trying to assess blame, the better thing to do would be to try to find a solution.
Because ultimately, this isn’t about shoes at all. It’s about people. And as I’m typing this, I hear the Lord speaking to me that I can’t fix people and that it’s not my job to try. My job is to be obedient to whatever the task is He puts before me…whether that is to buy new shoes for hurting children or to pray for their hurting mother. All are in need of sole/soul repair.
Friday, November 13, 2009
A Kodak moment...
Oh, my goodness…I wish I had pictures for this one – but I don’t. I wasn’t even thinking about pictures at the time, to be honest. I think I was just too caught up in the moment. Maybe one of these days, I’ll be able to take a picture and post it although it will never give you that “Kodak” moment.
“What? What? What are you talking about?” I can just hear it now…’cause that’s what I would be doing if I were on the other end of this. Actually, I would be saying, “There she goes being all fragmented again and has forgotten to even tell us what she’s talking about!”
Well, let me take you back a little bit. Some of you may remember that Danelia was a teacher before Kenneth became ill. Her income was so important to the family but she knew that she had to make the decision to stay home to take care of him. The family always struggled but with their income cut in half, what were tiresome struggles have become terrible battles with the family often on the losing end.
At one point, Danelia had borrowed money to help make ends meet. I wrote about that situation a few months ago. But Danelia knew that borrowing money was only a temporary fix. We have spoken several times in the past about how she might be able to earn some money while staying at home. Her options are limited both by her physical location and home environment coupled with the restraints brought on with having a seriously ill child whose care fluctuates from day to day.
I asked her one day about sewing. Her face lit up. She said it was something she would like to do but she didn’t have a machine and she didn’t know how to sew that well. She has a sister, who makes a living as a seamstress and Danelia said that Melva could teach her but she didn’t know how it would do any good…a sewing machine is a luxury that we both knew she would never have. And although electric sewing machines are available here, the power is out every day in Tipitapa so if she were to get one, a manual machine would definitely be better.
I asked her if there was a place that would be close by for her to buy material, thread, etc. She said that it is expensive to take the bus to Managua but it would be worth it as she could buy those things at the Oriental Market (that’s the one we don’t go in to!) so much cheaper and that they have a much better selection at all the stands.
Our conversation drifted on to other things but it’s one that we have visited several times. God just kept putting it on my heart that this might be a way that Danelia could make some money while still being able to stay at home and take care of Kenneth but for whatever reason, I just didn’t feel that it was God’s time yet to do so. I didn’t understand why as I was ready to do it, but I am far too aware of that check in my spirit when God tells me to hold on to my horses.
Life has a way of moving on and my attention shifted back to trying to obtain the chemo drug that the new oncologist was recommending for Kenneth. It was a road I had traveled before – ups and downs, encouraging words and then discouraging news…such a roller coaster of emotions. I won’t detail all of this last round other than to say that Kenneth is at a point where his body won’t tolerate any more of the chemo – each round is causing more and more heart damage and the doctors have advised no more. We had heard that before only for another oncologist to say, "Let's try this one...". Danelia said this time there would be no more trying.
The day I got that news was one of the hardest I’ve had here. We had found out the cost of buying the cancer drug in the U.S. which was $4,800 for 100 tabs. I was devastated. Not only did I think that was something we were not going to be able to do, I thought it was just plain immoral to charge such an exorbitant amount and I was informed this drug has been out on the market for some time – it’s not like it’s a new discovery. Let me make this absolutely clear…this was being able to purchase it at cost from our pharmacist in the States…this ridiculous amount was not his doing at all. That’s what the drug companies charge.
I had also been researching buying the drug over the internet and found it in a generic form from Canada…for less than $3.00 per tablet. True it is manufactured in various parts of Asia and I would wonder about the quality of it but I find such a huge disparity in pricing very revealing and the only thing I can attribute that to is nothing more than pure, unadulterated greed. It would also be a good time to say my father was a pharmacist and I’ve always had the utmost respect for that aspect of the medical world but I’m having a hard time swallowing a $4800 price tag for this drug.
So, why didn’t I order it from Canada? Two reasons – the first being it’s against the law to import the drug to the U.S. and secondly, because it is manufactured in Asia, it does not have the same stringent standards applied to it as it would if it were manufactured in the U.S. It would be a gamble even if it were legal to bring it in. Either way, the door was closed on obtaining the cancer drug. I was just sick. How was I going to tell Danelia that I couldn’t get the cancer drug that might extend Kenneth’s life? I didn’t know what to do. And when I don’t know what to do (which seems to be more and more of a frequent occurrence), I pray. So, I prayed. I asked God to give me the right words – I didn’t know what else to ask for.
The day I had to go tell Danelia that I couldn’t get the drug, I received a phone call from a sweet sister in Christ. She told me that my old SS class had been taking up a collection and had an extremely generous amount to give to us to use as we saw fit. My first thought was that I could apply that to the cancer drug from the States and hopefully, be able to collect the other half by the time Sadie came in December – she was going to be my “drug-runner” and bring it down to me.
I started to talk to Danelia before our English class and when I told her how much the drug cost, she just held up a hand and told me to stop. She told me she wanted to talk to me after class as she had something to tell me. I agreed and we met again after class. Danelia then told me that the doctor had said that it was too hard on Kenneth to continue with the chemo. He felt it would be more imminently dangerous to proceed with the new drug than to go without the chemo. He said that he would rather see Danelia concentrate on Kenneth’s nutrition.
I didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, I was relieved that the door to buying the chemo drug was closed as I wasn't sure what to do – and on the other hand, I was profoundly saddened that the door to buying the chemo drug was closed – again. Danelia and I discussed again one of previous conversations - the importance of Kenneth having as much quality to his life as possible and trying to maintain as much normalcy in their daily lives as was feasible. Danelia agreed...they needed some normalcy.
Recently, Lindsay has been complaining of a pain in her chest. Of course, Danelia was fearing yet another terrible thing was about to strike their family and she took Lindsay to the hospital. After checking her over, the doctor there told her that he thought it was the only way that Lindsay could verbalize what she was feeling about the upheaval Kenneth's disease had thrown them all in to...her chest hurt because she was afraid, her heart was hurting for what was happening to her best friend, her brother and she didn't understand any of it. I understood completely...I just have a few more words in my vocabulary than that precious little four year-old so it's easier for me to verbalize my feelings. Yes, they need some normalcy.
Danelia told me that the church was going to be doing some kind of project to raise money and that she would be receiving some of that. She asked if I would be willing to loan her 200 cordobas (about $10.00) so that she could buy some fresh fruits and vegetables. I told her that I would be happy to be able to help with that need and that I would like for her to buy some chicken, as well. She slowly nodded her head. I could tell she was mentally trying to calculate what fruits and vegetables she would have to sacrifice in order to buy the chicken. And I knew she would buy the chicken because I had asked her to do so.
Jim and I had stopped at the moneychangers that morning so I had some extra cash on me. I reached in my purse and pulled out some money. It was more than what she had asked for. I told Danelia that since we wouldn’t be back for two weeks that hopefully, that would help out with what she needed. She assured me it was more than enough.
As a side note…Jim is at a men’s retreat for three days this weekend so we won’t go back to Tipitapa until next weekend. Although I’m getting a bit braver about driving here, I’m not ready to tackle driving to Tipitapa by myself. So, yes…I’m home alone! Well, not really…Felix & Fernando are both stretching their shifts to make sure that I’m not here alone so Xander the Wonder Dog and I are well protected!
On the way home from Tipitapa, Jim and I discussed going ahead and getting a sewing machine for Danelia. We both felt that God had said the time had come to do that. We had done some window shopping and price checking last month and I had already picked out the machine I wanted to get her. So, Wednesday, we got our errands all done and then headed over to the store to get the machine.
I was so excited! Even the sound of home-made mortars being fired by some protesters near the Supreme Council building which is close to this store couldn’t darken my mood! God had said I could go shopping for a sewing machine!!! When we told the sales girl which machine we wanted, she told me it would be a few days to get one in as they only had the floor model which was scratched up.
A couple of days! I was sure God had said to move forward with this. My disappointment must have been evident as the sales girl told us that she would see if one of their other stores had one in stock. She looked on the computer and found one but we weren’t sure where that particular store was. She then found one at yet another store with which we were familiar and also would not be way out of our way. We said that one would be fine and I was so thrilled we were going to be able to get it that day!
We paid for the machine there and while the girl was calling the other store to tell them that we would be picking it up, the manager came over and took our receipt. He wrote down someone’s name at the other store on the back of it and told us to ask specifically for that guy and he would take care of us. We thanked everyone for their help and headed off to the other store. We stopped at the store, asked for Pablo, gave him the paperwork and sat and waited. About fifteen minutes after we got there, we were walking out with a beautiful, brand new treadle sewing machine and the cabinet in which it fits! Pablo loaded the cabinet in the back of our car
and Jim set the box with the machine in next to it. And off we headed to Tipitapa!
We crept down the muddy dirt roads. The annoying holes had become canyon-like in size with all the rain they’ve had recently. It seemed like it was taking forever to get to Danelia’s. As we pulled up in front of their little house, we both saw at the same time that the door was closed and the window board was up…they weren’t home! Of course, the neighbors all came out to see who was driving a car down their narrow little road. The neighbor boy recognized us and waved…others just stared. We’re used to it and we wave. Sometimes they wave back, sometimes they don't.
We decided to go over to Miguel’s, thinking that maybe she was over there with the kids. I was hoping and praying that something hadn’t happened with Kenneth. We pulled up in front of Miguel’s mother’s house and her door was closed. My heart sunk. Jim pulled forward a bit so that we could look down the side of Miguel’s mother’s house to see Miguel’s little house. There stood Elizabeth in the doorway. She waved and then stepped back in to the house…Miguel was asleep and she woke him up. He came out to see us, with a worried look on his face which worried me. It turned out to be nothing. He was worried that something had happened as we were unexpected.
I asked him if he knew where Danelia was. He said yes…but nothing else. I asked him if he would tell me. He said yes…but nothing more. I was ready to choke him! He grinned and told me she was actually at the church in a meeting for the fund-raiser. I asked him if he would go get her for me and that I would only keep her for just a few minutes. Off he went.
A few minutes later, Danelia and Miguel came walking down the street. We greeted one another and she said she was surprised to see me. She told me that she had taken Kenneth to the hospital that morning for a check-up and the doctor said that he was no worse…we both prefer to think that means that he’s better…he wasn’t having any pain that day and he had an appetite although he was tired from the bus ride to and from Managua. He seems to be over the respiratory infection and his fever was gone. It was a good day.
I told Danelia I had a surprise for her. Jim opened up the back of the car and it took her a minute to realize what we had in the back of it. When the realization hit, her eyes opened wide and she covered her mouth…she was speechless! Her eyes got teary and she hugged me tightly and kept thanking me. I asked her what she wanted me to do with it and she said to put it inside her mother’s house and that she and Arturo would take it home when he got home from work.
She was so happy! That sounds so flat but she really was! I told her that there were people in the U.S. who wanted to help them with their situation and they enabled us to be able to buy that. She said now she could work and maybe help ease some of the burden from Arturo. She talked about how God just continues to bless them in the midst of this thing with Kenneth. I didn’t even get to say it…she beat me to it…she said that she wants to bless others like she’s been blessed.
We didn’t stay long. She had to get back to her meeting and we needed to get back home. We parted ways with both of us thanking God for His goodness and His faithfulness. Never did I dream that buying a treadle sewing machine - that wasn’t an antique – would ever be in my future…and Danelia never thought one would be in hers either. I wished I would have had my camera…
“What? What? What are you talking about?” I can just hear it now…’cause that’s what I would be doing if I were on the other end of this. Actually, I would be saying, “There she goes being all fragmented again and has forgotten to even tell us what she’s talking about!”
Well, let me take you back a little bit. Some of you may remember that Danelia was a teacher before Kenneth became ill. Her income was so important to the family but she knew that she had to make the decision to stay home to take care of him. The family always struggled but with their income cut in half, what were tiresome struggles have become terrible battles with the family often on the losing end.
At one point, Danelia had borrowed money to help make ends meet. I wrote about that situation a few months ago. But Danelia knew that borrowing money was only a temporary fix. We have spoken several times in the past about how she might be able to earn some money while staying at home. Her options are limited both by her physical location and home environment coupled with the restraints brought on with having a seriously ill child whose care fluctuates from day to day.
I asked her one day about sewing. Her face lit up. She said it was something she would like to do but she didn’t have a machine and she didn’t know how to sew that well. She has a sister, who makes a living as a seamstress and Danelia said that Melva could teach her but she didn’t know how it would do any good…a sewing machine is a luxury that we both knew she would never have. And although electric sewing machines are available here, the power is out every day in Tipitapa so if she were to get one, a manual machine would definitely be better.
I asked her if there was a place that would be close by for her to buy material, thread, etc. She said that it is expensive to take the bus to Managua but it would be worth it as she could buy those things at the Oriental Market (that’s the one we don’t go in to!) so much cheaper and that they have a much better selection at all the stands.
Our conversation drifted on to other things but it’s one that we have visited several times. God just kept putting it on my heart that this might be a way that Danelia could make some money while still being able to stay at home and take care of Kenneth but for whatever reason, I just didn’t feel that it was God’s time yet to do so. I didn’t understand why as I was ready to do it, but I am far too aware of that check in my spirit when God tells me to hold on to my horses.
Life has a way of moving on and my attention shifted back to trying to obtain the chemo drug that the new oncologist was recommending for Kenneth. It was a road I had traveled before – ups and downs, encouraging words and then discouraging news…such a roller coaster of emotions. I won’t detail all of this last round other than to say that Kenneth is at a point where his body won’t tolerate any more of the chemo – each round is causing more and more heart damage and the doctors have advised no more. We had heard that before only for another oncologist to say, "Let's try this one...". Danelia said this time there would be no more trying.
The day I got that news was one of the hardest I’ve had here. We had found out the cost of buying the cancer drug in the U.S. which was $4,800 for 100 tabs. I was devastated. Not only did I think that was something we were not going to be able to do, I thought it was just plain immoral to charge such an exorbitant amount and I was informed this drug has been out on the market for some time – it’s not like it’s a new discovery. Let me make this absolutely clear…this was being able to purchase it at cost from our pharmacist in the States…this ridiculous amount was not his doing at all. That’s what the drug companies charge.
I had also been researching buying the drug over the internet and found it in a generic form from Canada…for less than $3.00 per tablet. True it is manufactured in various parts of Asia and I would wonder about the quality of it but I find such a huge disparity in pricing very revealing and the only thing I can attribute that to is nothing more than pure, unadulterated greed. It would also be a good time to say my father was a pharmacist and I’ve always had the utmost respect for that aspect of the medical world but I’m having a hard time swallowing a $4800 price tag for this drug.
So, why didn’t I order it from Canada? Two reasons – the first being it’s against the law to import the drug to the U.S. and secondly, because it is manufactured in Asia, it does not have the same stringent standards applied to it as it would if it were manufactured in the U.S. It would be a gamble even if it were legal to bring it in. Either way, the door was closed on obtaining the cancer drug. I was just sick. How was I going to tell Danelia that I couldn’t get the cancer drug that might extend Kenneth’s life? I didn’t know what to do. And when I don’t know what to do (which seems to be more and more of a frequent occurrence), I pray. So, I prayed. I asked God to give me the right words – I didn’t know what else to ask for.
The day I had to go tell Danelia that I couldn’t get the drug, I received a phone call from a sweet sister in Christ. She told me that my old SS class had been taking up a collection and had an extremely generous amount to give to us to use as we saw fit. My first thought was that I could apply that to the cancer drug from the States and hopefully, be able to collect the other half by the time Sadie came in December – she was going to be my “drug-runner” and bring it down to me.
I started to talk to Danelia before our English class and when I told her how much the drug cost, she just held up a hand and told me to stop. She told me she wanted to talk to me after class as she had something to tell me. I agreed and we met again after class. Danelia then told me that the doctor had said that it was too hard on Kenneth to continue with the chemo. He felt it would be more imminently dangerous to proceed with the new drug than to go without the chemo. He said that he would rather see Danelia concentrate on Kenneth’s nutrition.
I didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, I was relieved that the door to buying the chemo drug was closed as I wasn't sure what to do – and on the other hand, I was profoundly saddened that the door to buying the chemo drug was closed – again. Danelia and I discussed again one of previous conversations - the importance of Kenneth having as much quality to his life as possible and trying to maintain as much normalcy in their daily lives as was feasible. Danelia agreed...they needed some normalcy.
Recently, Lindsay has been complaining of a pain in her chest. Of course, Danelia was fearing yet another terrible thing was about to strike their family and she took Lindsay to the hospital. After checking her over, the doctor there told her that he thought it was the only way that Lindsay could verbalize what she was feeling about the upheaval Kenneth's disease had thrown them all in to...her chest hurt because she was afraid, her heart was hurting for what was happening to her best friend, her brother and she didn't understand any of it. I understood completely...I just have a few more words in my vocabulary than that precious little four year-old so it's easier for me to verbalize my feelings. Yes, they need some normalcy.
Danelia told me that the church was going to be doing some kind of project to raise money and that she would be receiving some of that. She asked if I would be willing to loan her 200 cordobas (about $10.00) so that she could buy some fresh fruits and vegetables. I told her that I would be happy to be able to help with that need and that I would like for her to buy some chicken, as well. She slowly nodded her head. I could tell she was mentally trying to calculate what fruits and vegetables she would have to sacrifice in order to buy the chicken. And I knew she would buy the chicken because I had asked her to do so.
Jim and I had stopped at the moneychangers that morning so I had some extra cash on me. I reached in my purse and pulled out some money. It was more than what she had asked for. I told Danelia that since we wouldn’t be back for two weeks that hopefully, that would help out with what she needed. She assured me it was more than enough.
As a side note…Jim is at a men’s retreat for three days this weekend so we won’t go back to Tipitapa until next weekend. Although I’m getting a bit braver about driving here, I’m not ready to tackle driving to Tipitapa by myself. So, yes…I’m home alone! Well, not really…Felix & Fernando are both stretching their shifts to make sure that I’m not here alone so Xander the Wonder Dog and I are well protected!
On the way home from Tipitapa, Jim and I discussed going ahead and getting a sewing machine for Danelia. We both felt that God had said the time had come to do that. We had done some window shopping and price checking last month and I had already picked out the machine I wanted to get her. So, Wednesday, we got our errands all done and then headed over to the store to get the machine.
I was so excited! Even the sound of home-made mortars being fired by some protesters near the Supreme Council building which is close to this store couldn’t darken my mood! God had said I could go shopping for a sewing machine!!! When we told the sales girl which machine we wanted, she told me it would be a few days to get one in as they only had the floor model which was scratched up.
A couple of days! I was sure God had said to move forward with this. My disappointment must have been evident as the sales girl told us that she would see if one of their other stores had one in stock. She looked on the computer and found one but we weren’t sure where that particular store was. She then found one at yet another store with which we were familiar and also would not be way out of our way. We said that one would be fine and I was so thrilled we were going to be able to get it that day!
We paid for the machine there and while the girl was calling the other store to tell them that we would be picking it up, the manager came over and took our receipt. He wrote down someone’s name at the other store on the back of it and told us to ask specifically for that guy and he would take care of us. We thanked everyone for their help and headed off to the other store. We stopped at the store, asked for Pablo, gave him the paperwork and sat and waited. About fifteen minutes after we got there, we were walking out with a beautiful, brand new treadle sewing machine and the cabinet in which it fits! Pablo loaded the cabinet in the back of our car
and Jim set the box with the machine in next to it. And off we headed to Tipitapa!
We crept down the muddy dirt roads. The annoying holes had become canyon-like in size with all the rain they’ve had recently. It seemed like it was taking forever to get to Danelia’s. As we pulled up in front of their little house, we both saw at the same time that the door was closed and the window board was up…they weren’t home! Of course, the neighbors all came out to see who was driving a car down their narrow little road. The neighbor boy recognized us and waved…others just stared. We’re used to it and we wave. Sometimes they wave back, sometimes they don't.
We decided to go over to Miguel’s, thinking that maybe she was over there with the kids. I was hoping and praying that something hadn’t happened with Kenneth. We pulled up in front of Miguel’s mother’s house and her door was closed. My heart sunk. Jim pulled forward a bit so that we could look down the side of Miguel’s mother’s house to see Miguel’s little house. There stood Elizabeth in the doorway. She waved and then stepped back in to the house…Miguel was asleep and she woke him up. He came out to see us, with a worried look on his face which worried me. It turned out to be nothing. He was worried that something had happened as we were unexpected.
I asked him if he knew where Danelia was. He said yes…but nothing else. I asked him if he would tell me. He said yes…but nothing more. I was ready to choke him! He grinned and told me she was actually at the church in a meeting for the fund-raiser. I asked him if he would go get her for me and that I would only keep her for just a few minutes. Off he went.
A few minutes later, Danelia and Miguel came walking down the street. We greeted one another and she said she was surprised to see me. She told me that she had taken Kenneth to the hospital that morning for a check-up and the doctor said that he was no worse…we both prefer to think that means that he’s better…he wasn’t having any pain that day and he had an appetite although he was tired from the bus ride to and from Managua. He seems to be over the respiratory infection and his fever was gone. It was a good day.
I told Danelia I had a surprise for her. Jim opened up the back of the car and it took her a minute to realize what we had in the back of it. When the realization hit, her eyes opened wide and she covered her mouth…she was speechless! Her eyes got teary and she hugged me tightly and kept thanking me. I asked her what she wanted me to do with it and she said to put it inside her mother’s house and that she and Arturo would take it home when he got home from work.
She was so happy! That sounds so flat but she really was! I told her that there were people in the U.S. who wanted to help them with their situation and they enabled us to be able to buy that. She said now she could work and maybe help ease some of the burden from Arturo. She talked about how God just continues to bless them in the midst of this thing with Kenneth. I didn’t even get to say it…she beat me to it…she said that she wants to bless others like she’s been blessed.
We didn’t stay long. She had to get back to her meeting and we needed to get back home. We parted ways with both of us thanking God for His goodness and His faithfulness. Never did I dream that buying a treadle sewing machine - that wasn’t an antique – would ever be in my future…and Danelia never thought one would be in hers either. I wished I would have had my camera…
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Make a Joyful Noise...
On the 25th of October, Kenneth’s church plus several other churches in the area, held a celebration service on his behalf. We were invited to come be a part of that along with Susanna. Although we weren’t sure exactly what was going to happen, we had assumed it was going to be a serious service for prayer and intercession...oh my goodness, it was anything but somber!
The service was supposed to begin at 4:00 p.m. and like typical Americans with the need to be prompt deeply engrained in us, we were there at 3:45. There was a light rain falling and the church was empty. Miguel and his family have become accustomed to this eccentric gringo behavior and so they were not at all surprised to see us. When I asked Miguel where everyone was, he just shrugged his shoulders. He said maybe because it was raining and that the power was off that everyone was waiting to come. It was my turn to shrug my shoulders. And so we sat in the car and waited.
After awhile, we saw Danelia and Arturo coming down the street. Danelia was walking holding Lindsay’s hand and Arturo was carrying Kenneth. They all looked very nice, dressed in their best, but they also all looked very somber. Danelia told me that Kenneth wasn’t feeling good and that he had been running a fever most of the day. She said he hadn’t felt much like eating and just wanted to sleep. It was easy to see that she and Arturo were concerned. I think if it would have been anything other than a special service in honor of Kenneth, she wouldn’t have brought him out, but the pastor had made such a big deal over his church doing this, she felt as though she had no choice.
I think after reading that definition, I had a better understanding of the noise of the night.
The service was supposed to begin at 4:00 p.m. and like typical Americans with the need to be prompt deeply engrained in us, we were there at 3:45. There was a light rain falling and the church was empty. Miguel and his family have become accustomed to this eccentric gringo behavior and so they were not at all surprised to see us. When I asked Miguel where everyone was, he just shrugged his shoulders. He said maybe because it was raining and that the power was off that everyone was waiting to come. It was my turn to shrug my shoulders. And so we sat in the car and waited.
After awhile, we saw Danelia and Arturo coming down the street. Danelia was walking holding Lindsay’s hand and Arturo was carrying Kenneth. They all looked very nice, dressed in their best, but they also all looked very somber. Danelia told me that Kenneth wasn’t feeling good and that he had been running a fever most of the day. She said he hadn’t felt much like eating and just wanted to sleep. It was easy to see that she and Arturo were concerned. I think if it would have been anything other than a special service in honor of Kenneth, she wouldn’t have brought him out, but the pastor had made such a big deal over his church doing this, she felt as though she had no choice.Around 5:00 p.m., the people started coming and by 5:30, the church was stan
ding room only. The rain had stopped, the power was back on and it was finally time to begin. Danelia directed us to the front row and sat down next to me. Arturo stayed toward the back of the church, greeting people as they came in. Kenneth and Lindsay sat with the other children right in front of us in little kiddie chairs. Miguel was busy helping with the sound equipment and Elizabeth was also at the back talking with friends.
ding room only. The rain had stopped, the power was back on and it was finally time to begin. Danelia directed us to the front row and sat down next to me. Arturo stayed toward the back of the church, greeting people as they came in. Kenneth and Lindsay sat with the other children right in front of us in little kiddie chairs. Miguel was busy helping with the sound equipment and Elizabeth was also at the back talking with friends. Right before the program started, the pastor came over to us and asked if we would say something to the church about Kenneth. He said if we wanted to have Susanna translate for us, it would be fine…we were then doubly thankful she had come with us!
I am sure I’ve probably told you this before but if not, let me just say here that all Nicaraguan church services that we’ve ever had any experience with have one thing in common…and that’s trying to attain the maximum decibel level possible with all aspects of their services. I don’t know how microphones and speakers exactly work but if there were any correlation between the volume dial and the drain on the electric grid, I think I can understand why this country is always without electricity! This is no exaggeration…the music was so loud that it was constantly setting off our car alarm! But the neighborhood is such that neither Jim nor I thought it was a good idea to move the car any further away from the church than its spot right out front. So, the sing-song of the car alarm outside just added to the driving Latin beat coming from inside. It was a perfect combination for a gringo headache.
The program started out with the children’s minister (who reminded all three of us, Jim, Susanna and me, of a Nicaraguan version of Pee Wee Herman!) leading the kids in a variety of songs, many involving some sort of motion. This joyous chaos definitely set the tone for the rest of the evening. There were dances, solos, group songs, speeches and scripture readings, all performed at top volume. And like any good church service, there was a collection taken.
Two women came forward carrying identical long poles with identical purple v
elvet bags attached to the end. The women stood at the end of the stage extension and the children's pastor indicated that the lady that was standing to his right was holding the bag for the donation of funds for Kenneth. The other lady, to his left, was holding the bag for donations for the church.
elvet bags attached to the end. The women stood at the end of the stage extension and the children's pastor indicated that the lady that was standing to his right was holding the bag for the donation of funds for Kenneth. The other lady, to his left, was holding the bag for donations for the church. After prayer, anyone who wanted to contribute was to come forward and put their money in one or both of the bags. Naturally, most of the crowd went to the lady to the right of the pastor and put their cords in to the bag that was designated for Kenneth. After a few minutes had passed and everyone had an opportunity to give their donations, the program continued. I watched as the women walked up on the stage and set their poles with their bags up on end in the corner.
No one paid much attention to the women as they left the stage and the bags kind of shifted in their position in the corner. The thought suddenly occurred to me that there wasn’t any way to tell which bag was which. I had a sinking feeling that what Kenneth’s family received was going to be dependent upon a judgment call from someone in the church, most likely the pastor. I hoped he would be honest.
Now before you get all up in arms about me having such a nasty thought, let me tell you that just as quickly as that mean thought entered my head, a sense of shame quickly followed that I would even entertain that thought. I was berating myself for being so distrustful of a pastor, (for heaven’s sake! ) when Susanna leaned over and asked me if I saw where the bags had been placed and wondered how they were going to tell them apart! I guess skepticism runs deep in hearts other than my own!
We had our opportunity to tell the church a little about our relationship with Kenneth and his family and even though we were both nervous to do so, it was easy to share our hearts. Susanna did a wonderful job of translating for both of us which was not unexpected. She is so good at translating. The church warmly received our words and we were given a loud applause when we finished. As we walked back to our seats, I saw Danelia quickly wiping her eyes and even Arturo’s expression softened from its usual sternness…which is so funny because Arturo seems to have a very gentle nature.
Another part of the program which obviously deeply touched Danelia was wh
en Miguel, Esther (Miguel’s oldest daughter who is in 8th grade), Kenneth and Lindsay sang a song dedicated to Danelia. It was beautiful and she wasn’t the only one who needed a tissue…which I have to say is somewhat unusual for Danelia. She normally keeps her feelings close and isn’t a person who is overtly demonstrative. But this battle for her son is naturally wearing down her defenses and these days, it’s not uncommon to see those guarded brown eyes of hers soften and fill to overflowing with liquid emotion.
en Miguel, Esther (Miguel’s oldest daughter who is in 8th grade), Kenneth and Lindsay sang a song dedicated to Danelia. It was beautiful and she wasn’t the only one who needed a tissue…which I have to say is somewhat unusual for Danelia. She normally keeps her feelings close and isn’t a person who is overtly demonstrative. But this battle for her son is naturally wearing down her defenses and these days, it’s not uncommon to see those guarded brown eyes of hers soften and fill to overflowing with liquid emotion. The program ended several hours later. Earlier, I had made some posters with all the pictures of those who are praying for Kenneth and had e-mailed me their SS class pictures or individual pictures and had given the posters to Danelia. I noticed they were placed around the church and Danelia was proudly showing the pictures to various people. It was then that I realized that Danelia and Miguel’s mother (who just lives two doors down from the church) and their other brothers and sisters who live in Tipitapa, did not bother to come to the service. Kenneth has a lot of cousins and only Miguel’s girls were there.
It made me so sad that personal prejudices against the church or some of its attendees and in some cases, a lack of faith in Jesus Christ, stood in the way of the rest of the family showing their support with their presence. I’m sure it was encouraging for the family to see all those who had turned out to support them with their talents, their presence, their prayers and their money. But I couldn’t help but wonder how Danelia must have felt to not even have the rest of her family there. It was another reminder to me how strong and supportive the bonds are with our brothers and sisters in Christ. It was a night that I’m sure will long remain in the minds and hearts of all those who love Kenneth and his precious family.
By the time we said all our good-byes, it was almost 9:00 p.m. Lindsay was sleepy, Kenneth was worn out and we were both. My ears were still ringing as we climbed in to the car to head back to Managua. But all in all, it was a wonderful evening. True…the music was loud, the church was hot, the children were disruptive but it was such an amazing demonstration of love and support that those things didn’t seem to really matter much.
I started thinking about what God’s Word says about “making a joyful noise”. I looked up on our computer Bible study program to see how Strong’s Greek/Hebrew Dictionary would define this term. Here’s what I found: the term “a joyful noise” is translated as “ruwa” in Hebrew. The definition of “ruwa” is: “a primitive root; to mar (especially by breaking); figuratively, to split the ears (with sound), i.e. shout (for alarm or joy): KJV - blow an alarm, cry (alarm, aloud, out), destroy, make a joyful noise, smart, shout (for joy), sound an alarm, triumph. (Biblesoft's New Exhaustive Strong's Numbers and Concordance with Expanded Greek-Hebrew Dictionary. Copyright (c) 1994, Biblesoft and International Bible Translators, Inc.)
I think after reading that definition, I had a better understanding of the noise of the night.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Until we meet again...
Lots of “happenings” the last couple of weeks, some of which have made it very hard to be here. I can say without hesitation the #1 thing that has occurred was the death of one of our sisters in Christ, Kathy Henderson, from our home church, First Baptist in Cassville. Kathy and Gary were our neighbors for the entire eleven years we lived in Cassville. Kathy had a personality that was larger than life in so many respects. She passed away unexpectedly after a sudden illness and her death seems to have left everyone a little shell shocked. I want to thank my dear friend, Geneva, for this picture. She said it looks like Kathy is waving good-bye...I think she's right.Being so far from home when something like this happens is difficult. There is such a sense of comfort and family with our church…trying to process this on our own has not been easy. It is hard to comfort and to be comforted through e-mail…
Kathy was deeply loved by so many in our church, including Mandy, Jack and our grandchildren. That brings me to another reason it has been difficult living here the last few weeks. We all thought Kathy was improving and then the kids got word that Kathy had a brain aneurysm rupture. The grandkids were devastated. They called and we spent time talking with each one of them. When Sam, in tears and with such profound grief, said, “Grandma, I wish you were here, I want you to come home. I’m scared, Grandma,”…I think I could almost feel my heart rip.
Being away from my children and my grandchildren like this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do – bar none. There isn’t a day that passes that I don’t think about them, wonder what they’re doing, pray for them and miss them more than I ever thought was possible. I don’t think I could love them any more if they came from my own womb. I held each one of them seconds after they were born and continue to hold them in my heart. So to hear each express his or her hurt, confusion and fear and not to be able to put my arms around them, to hold them close, to smooth their hair and rock their tears away…it’s so unbelievably hard.
Selling our business, our home and our things were nothing compared to telling our families good-bye. It’s at these times that I beg God to make it clear to me again why we’re here. And He always does. His answer doesn’t soothe my own hurts or make it any easier to be here…it just reminds me why we are. Kathy’s in heaven…our world is filled with those who will never know her… many of those people live right here in Nicaragua. That’s why we’re here.
Other events the last few weeks…
We’ve hired another guard. After months of debating this issue, a recent attempt of three men trying to simultaneously scale our back wall convinced us that it was probably the best thing to do. We moved Felix to days, changed Freddy’s hours some and have hired a new young man to be our night guard. We now have someone here almost all the time, with the exception of the days off issue. So one night a week and one day a week, we are without a guard but as I told someone else, we’re trusting God to have one of His angels stand guard during those times!
I imagine you have to have some age on you to remember the old TV show called, “F Troop”. It was a goofy show about an army fort in the 1860’s and the group of misfits which secured it. It was pretty much just a venue for silly comedy and slapstick. Jim and I have laughingly called our own “battalion of security guards” F troop. Not because they’re inept but primarily because each of their names begins with the letter “F”. We have Freddy – our daytime gardener/guard combo, Felix and now, Fernando. Although, I do have to say that sometimes they’ve each done or said some pretty goofy things.
For example, when Fernando began working for us, he had a cold. Jim had always given Felix a glass of ice water when he would arrive for work each night so naturally, he did the same thing for Fernando. Fernando recoiled in horror explaining that it was “very dangerous” to drink ice water when you have a cold, that it would give him pneumonia. Whatever. He gave Jim permission to revive the practice once his cold had passed.
Felix is firmly convinced that every centipede we see is poisonous, as are slugs, worms and June bugs. He also believes that our cats are in danger from our puppy and that someday, Xander will kill the cats. I’m thinking Xander is the one in danger here. The cats don’t take any grief from him and if he doesn’t stop biting me every two seconds, I’ll take him out before the cats get a chance!
And then there’s Freddy. Freddy believes that we are always at risk. One of his favorite words to use with us is “peligroso”…dangerous. When he finds out where we’ve been or where we’re going, he tells us that the particular area is “muy peligroso” for us. I think he even has his doubts about our grocery store! But don’t let me give the impression I’m not appreciative for his concern…I most certainly am and we heed many of his warnings, believing he certainly has more knowledge of what’s going on around here than we do. But I also have to balance that out with the reminder that Freddy is the one who requested safety glasses to wear when he used the rotary push mower. OSHA would love this guy!
But lest my own twisted sense of humor should cloud your judgment of our compañeros, let me assure you that I can’t imagine trying to go about our daily life without these guys. I know Freddy and Felix have our best interest at heart and I’m hoping that we will soon have the confidence to be able to add Fernando’s name to that list as well.
October for us was Support Your Local Vet month. Of course, we have had Xander at the vet’s twice for his puppy shots and worm pills. That was to be expected and those kinds of visits, while not pleasant for the pup, are not too traumatic for any of us. You can see how much he's grown in just a few short weeks. But, two weeks ago, on a Sunday night, we had to find an emergency veterinarian for Susanna’s dog, Pixie. She had been injured by the neighbor dogs (a lab and 3 shepherds) and had a deep puncture wound of some size on her side. It was Fernando’s first night to work alone and we left him with Xander…it’s a wonder, he came back the next night!We took Xander’s carrier with us and managed to get Pixie inside it. She was pretty stressed but still allowed us to handle her. Susanna was without power so it was hard to determine the extent of Pixie’s injuries. We had to drive all the way down past Huembes market to a 24 hour vet hospital. I’m still amazed that Managua even has such a thing considering how most people treat their animals.
The vet determined that Pixie had probably tussled with the dogs and gotten pushed in to a sharp pointed object. The wound was wide but it was deep. She also had several cuts to her face and one in the corner of her eye. The poor thing. As Jim and Susanna visited with the vet, I sat out in the outer office and waited. It was with great relief to hear she would be okay, although she had to have the wound cleaned and stitched.
This past Tuesday, we had to make another trip there. Both our cats had been gone for about 4 days. This was not normal behavior for them and I was beginning to get very worried. Then Tuesday morning, just as we were getting ready to leave for school, Skits showed up meowing at the back door. We both were so glad to hear him that even though we were running a bit behind our schedule, we decided to take a few minutes and go ahead and feed him. I’m so glad we did.
When we opened the back door, there stood Skits with a terribly swollen and misshapen right front leg. It was so distended from the shoulder that we thought it was broken. If that wasn’t concern enough, he had vomited some nasty green goo. In our minds, there wasn’t any other option but take the cat to the vet. Jim made the call to David to explain the situation and asked him to call Pastora and pass it on.
When we opened the back door, there stood Skits with a terribly swollen and misshapen right front leg. It was so distended from the shoulder that we thought it was broken. If that wasn’t concern enough, he had vomited some nasty green goo. In our minds, there wasn’t any other option but take the cat to the vet. Jim made the call to David to explain the situation and asked him to call Pastora and pass it on.
Now, if Skits were a house cat, the idea of taking him to the vet for this probably wouldn’t have given us much pause for thought…but he’s not. He’s a wild cat who has adopted us and has just allowed us to pet him in the last three months. I had no idea how we were going to manage him but I knew we had to somehow be able to do so. I was surprised at how much affection he was wanting. He couldn’t get close enough and I couldn’t pet him nearly enough. It was as though he needed reassurance that somehow, this was all going to be okay and I was going to take care of that pain.
Once again, we got Xander’s carrier. I wasn’t sure how we were going to get Skits inside but it really wasn’t nearly as bad as what I thought it would be. We quickly explained to Felix what was going on and this time, left him to Xander-sit. We got to our vet’s office about 8:00 and found out that the doctor wouldn’t be in until 9:30 or so. We called Susanna and asked if she could possibly go with us to the emergency vet.
It actually was going to work out okay for her to go. She needed to take Pixie to get her stitches out so we went and picked her up. We then had to go to the north part of town first for Susanna to drop off some things at a lab and then we headed south to the vet’s. I sat in the back seat so that I could reach over the back to the carrier. Skits would raise his head and rub it against my fingers. I was sick that he was hurting so much.
Jim and Susanna took Skits to the back while I waited out front with Pixie. The vet was going to see her after Skits. He determined that Skits’ leg wasn’t broken but was so filled with infection that it would need to be surgically opened up and drained. T.M.I. for this woman. He surmised that he probably got in to a fight with another cat (Snoops???) and that there was a small deep puncture wound above the swelling.
We made the decision to go ahead and have him neutered while there. This would hopefully help to keep down the cat population in our neighborhood plus maybe help tone down his macho male cat attitude. Ultimately, we’re hoping for fewer cat fights. We also told the vet that since he wasn’t ours, we were sure he hadn’t had any kind of shots so we opted to have the basic shots given, as well. The receptionist was in awe that we would do this for a cat that really wasn’t ours. While sitting there waiting, I realized the cat was very much ours. It wasn’t the amount of cordobas we were investing in him…it was the amount of emotion.
We picked Skits back up on Friday morning sans Susanna. He was wild when the assistant brought him out. They had some sort of stick with a wire hoop on the end of it. This was around Skits’ neck and that was how the assistant was able to maneuver him and still stay out of reach of those wicked claws of his. As soon as the young man set him on the table and I called Skits’ name, he immediately relaxed. He scooted on the table to me and I kept petting him and talking to him. Once again, it was as though he couldn’t get enough attention.
The vet was able to show us how to clean the surgical incision and told us to keep him on his antibiotic for three more days. Surprisingly enough, I was able to understand the majority of what he said. It helps immensely that Nicas are so demonstrative with their hands and facial expressions. Every conversation is kind of like a noisy game of charades.
We now have Skits at home, confined to the carrier for 5 days. He hates being in it but he’s so good to let me clean his incision and dress it twice a day. I am definitely not nurse material! Oh…and Snoops came back the same day. He had a few nicked places of his own but seemed to be in pretty good shape overall. I think after we get Skits all healed up and out of the carrier for good, we’re going to try to get Snoops in the carrier and haul him in to the vet and have him neutered, as well. For people who had determined not to have pets again, it seems to me that we’re investing a lot of money in to these furry vagabonds!
I have had an odd looking place come up on my face the last few months. It’s about a half an inch across and is itchy, scaly and reddish. Sounds attractive, doesn’t it? Now I know I just let myself wide open to all kinds of remarks here but I’m trusting you all to be kind! I finally was able to get in to a dermatologist this past week and found out that what I have is a place that is a pre-cancer spot. I go this next week to have it removed. Am I looking forward to this? Nope. Am I being a baby about it? Yep…as much as I can be and still retain some dignity. Do I have to have this done? Yes…but I don’t have to like it!
What else? Hungry families… In the last two weeks, we have had the opportunity to help some families with some food. One of the families we’ve helped before – Manuel Luis, the janitor at our school. He’s the man with 4 children in the school plus two older daughters who live with them, one is 17 and has a baby and one is 15. We help the family periodically, and had even bought beans and rice for them just a few days prior, but then we got word that Genesis, one of the twins in first grade, had become very weak and fainted in church.
They took her to the hospital and she was diagnosed with malnutrition and anemia. The doctor told the family that she needed to have lots more fruits and vegetables and that she needed a nutritional supplement. There was no way they could afford it. We made the decision to help this family further. Typically, we handle this through a third party but due to other circumstances this time, we weren’t able to do so.
Thursday after school, we took two boxes of fresh fruits, veggies, eggs, oa
tmeal, a large can of dry milk and a can of Sustagen to the house. Three of my students were there and they were so excited that we came to visit. The mother became very teary when she saw the food being brought in to the house. As we hear so often, she had been praying that God would help them. That’s always such an affirmation to hear. I pray all the time that we hear clearly from the Lord in these kinds of situations. It’s so easy to react in our flesh and one of my fears is that I’ll run ahead of God.
tmeal, a large can of dry milk and a can of Sustagen to the house. Three of my students were there and they were so excited that we came to visit. The mother became very teary when she saw the food being brought in to the house. As we hear so often, she had been praying that God would help them. That’s always such an affirmation to hear. I pray all the time that we hear clearly from the Lord in these kinds of situations. It’s so easy to react in our flesh and one of my fears is that I’ll run ahead of God.We stayed for about thirty minutes and then had to leave but it was such a good visit. We prayed for the family and then got ready to head home. The kids held on tight and the mother kept talking but we slowly made our way to the car. The mother kept thanking us. I told her that we were able to bless others because God had blessed us and that someday, she would be in a position to help someone else who needed it. She seemed to like that idea. It was a good note to leave on.
The other famil
y we helped that same week was a family we had made a home visit to when the team was here. They had lost their 24 year old daughter to kidney failure just three weeks prior to the team visit. She was a wife and the mother of two little girls. The grandparents are now taking care of the little girls while the dad is trying to find some kind of work. They had lost their corn crop due to the drought and neither the dad nor the husband of the deceased woman have any kind of steady income. They typically clean up fields and property for folks but times are hard and that kind of work is the first to go.
y we helped that same week was a family we had made a home visit to when the team was here. They had lost their 24 year old daughter to kidney failure just three weeks prior to the team visit. She was a wife and the mother of two little girls. The grandparents are now taking care of the little girls while the dad is trying to find some kind of work. They had lost their corn crop due to the drought and neither the dad nor the husband of the deceased woman have any kind of steady income. They typically clean up fields and property for folks but times are hard and that kind of work is the first to go. This family is experiencing some pretty desperate times. There are several more grown children with their families and they all live in close proximity to one another. God had brought them to my mind and had kept them there for several days. We decided we should buy some beans and rice for the family. We gave the items to Pastor Manuel to deliver and he affirmed that they were in need. Isn’t it amazing how God takes care of things like that?
We also were able to help Danelia, Arturo and the kids this week with some food. I have more to share about Kenneth but that will be in separate blog. I’ll just share about yesterday for right now. We’ve been keeping Kenneth in Sustagen since PriceSmart had been out of PediaSure for so long. They’ve just recently gotten in back in but the price has gone up to almost $30 a can. The Sustagen is much cheaper and the nutritional value is very similar. Since he is tolerating it okay, we’re continuing with that. Yesterday, we were able to get the family a fair amount of groceries. As usual, the family is extremely grateful. Again, this was a family whose shelves were empty of food.
I wonder how many people face situations just like that. Kids that are hungry and shelves that are empty. It never fails that when I talk to someone in the States about hungry children here, they are quick to remind me that there are hungry children there, as well. Sadly, I know they’re right. I also know that our government provides many programs to help those families. Unfortunately, we don’t have that luxury here. And, hopefully, the body of Christ is doing what they are called to do in those situations, whether there or here.
Casting Crowns had a great song out a few years back called If We Are The Body…it certainly made me think about what we are all called to do. The chorus says:
If we are the body
Why aren't His arms reaching
Why aren't His hands healing
Why aren't His words teaching
And if we are the body
Why aren't His feet going
Why is His love not showing them there is a way
Jesus is the way
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Bless the Bony Steed...
Living here has helped to open our eyes a bit more in terms of how God meets our needs at just the time we need to have them met. I want to tell you about one way God provided for the FBC team when they came a month ago, to build a house in Los Cedros.
One of the best parts about spending time with a God-centered group is that they are always looking to see where God is working. This is a key point to the study Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby. Jim and I took that study some years ago in our church and although we enjoyed it, we didn’t bother to apply the teachings we had learned.
A few years after that, we took the course again. That time, it was different. We were much more open and willing to learn those lessons. It was a difference of night and day for us. After Jim and I allowed God to work in our hearts, our eyes began to be opened to the reality of how God truly is always at work not just in us but also around us. Often we are just too self-centered to see that in action. We had been eager for God to work in us, to change us. If He was working elsewhere, well that was great…but that impacted ME how??? When honestly, we can always benefit from God’s work if we’re willing to recognize it and then be a part of it. Jim and I came to the conclusion that we didn’t want to miss out on a thing God would have for us, whether it involved us directly or whether we were to learn through someone else’s experience with God.
I think all too often, we tend to wait for the “big” moments. I believe more and more that all moments are “big” moments and it’s not that God hasn’t been working in any given situation, it’s that I’ve not been seeing it…sadly, more times than I care to confess, my eyes have been on myself, or believing my own ideas on who He is using and who He’s not and how I think it’s all supposed to go. I’m so thankful that I serve a God who is bigger than anything my mind can conceive and bigger than any box in which I try to make Him fit. I’ve learned a lot the last year and a half…Nicaragua is a humbling place to live.
Now here’s the thing that’s been rattling around in my mind about this whole horse cart and lady situation. We went to bless some people in Los Cedros by building them a new home. There’s no doubt God used this team to do that. But I think there’s something more…there’s something about that lady and her horse. I know for a fact we helped the woman financially that day. She received what would have been a week’s pay for her if she were able to rent out her horse and cart every day. But there’s something more that’s been niggling at me about her.
I don’t know if she was a Christian or not. Someone gave her a tract. Sadly, I found the tract thrown on the ground like trash a bit further down the hill. It almost hurt my feelings that she would do that, even though I wasn’t the one who handed her the tract. But then I thought that maybe she couldn’t read, which would not be at all far-fetched. Or maybe it fell out of her pocket. Or maybe she just plain didn’t want it. I don’t know. But what I do know is that woman was where we needed her to be when we needed her. She was available to be used. And she was willing to be used. I would love to think that maybe she saw God working around her and joined Him. I don’t know…but I think there’s a lesson in that.
The road to the construction site is steep and has deep ruts right next to huge rocks. These form an obstruction that makes it impossible to drive past a certain point. So when it was time to have the sand delivered for the concrete, the truck drove up the hill as far as he could go and dumped it at the side of the road. The problem was that wasn’t close to the house at all and it certainly wasn’t anywhere near the top of the hill!
This meant that
sand needed to be hauled by hand up to the building site. Th
e fellows worked out a method using the one wheelbarrow we had. They hooked a piece of rebar to it in the front so that one guy pulled while the other pushed. Although it worked, it was hard on backs, shoulders and arms. Plus, it was extremely tiring for them trying to navigate the hill with its various rocks and ruts. The two guys doing this could only do several loads at a time before it was necessary to rest and take a water break.
sand needed to be hauled by hand up to the building site. Th
e fellows worked out a method using the one wheelbarrow we had. They hooked a piece of rebar to it in the front so that one guy pulled while the other pushed. Although it worked, it was hard on backs, shoulders and arms. Plus, it was extremely tiring for them trying to navigate the hill with its various rocks and ruts. The two guys doing this could only do several loads at a time before it was necessary to rest and take a water break. Each grain of sand in itself was so small that it seemed almost insignificant. But all those tiny little grains of sand put together became a mighty force with which to be reckoned. The team took that object lesson to heart. Any one person on the team, by themselves, trying to move that mound of sand up the hill would not have been very successful working within the time frame we had allotted to us. They certainly would have quickly become exhausted from the heat…add to that the physical taxation of the task and trying to traverse the uneven terrain of the hill and it was obvious to see that we needed to work as a team.
We then opted for a bucket brigade system in addition to the wheelbarrow. We used the handful of available buckets plus Juan’s mother’s dishpan to transport the sand up the hill. This helped as it kept anyone from having to walk very far carrying those heavy buckets of sand. Now to the folks there in Los Cedros, the buckets may not have been particularly light, but to us gringa gals…each succeeding bucket seemed to weigh a pound more than the preceding one did. Because of the weight of the damp sand, the buckets could only be filled partway.
This method helped to move some of the sand up the hill to the necessary destination, but it was also a tiring way to do it. The sun and the heat would quickly drain everyone’s energies. Even so, I don’t believe there was one single person who wasn’t glad they were part of that particular process. Every bucket of sand that was passed through those weary arms helped to build a home. It was satisfying for all of us…even if it was a slow method and not as efficient as what we would like. But there’s more than one way to conquer a mountain.
In Numbers 22, there is a story of how God used a donkey to get Baalam’s attention. I won't go in to the story...it would be better if you read it yourself. Well, one day, He used a horse to come to the aid of all of us weary sand haulers and as a result, He also got my attention.
No matter how many buckets of sand were being hauled off that sand pile, it sure seemed like t
here wasn’t much of a dent being made in it. We saw a woman with a horse cart
go past the house, heading down the hill. We jokingly said something about wondering if we could hire her to haul that sand up for us…that joke quickly turned in to a serious proposition and it wasn’t long before we were cheering the buckets of sand being loaded on to the horse cart after which the woman urged her bony gallant steed up the hill. It wasn’t exactly a full-fledged cavalry that came to the rescue but that skinny ol’ horse and roughly made cart was enough. I’m sure if we had listened closely enough, we could have heard the faint sound of a bugle off in the distance.
here wasn’t much of a dent being made in it. We saw a woman with a horse cart
go past the house, heading down the hill. We jokingly said something about wondering if we could hire her to haul that sand up for us…that joke quickly turned in to a serious proposition and it wasn’t long before we were cheering the buckets of sand being loaded on to the horse cart after which the woman urged her bony gallant steed up the hill. It wasn’t exactly a full-fledged cavalry that came to the rescue but that skinny ol’ horse and roughly made cart was enough. I’m sure if we had listened closely enough, we could have heard the faint sound of a bugle off in the distance. We cheered them on and there was such a sense of exhilaration to see our brilliant idea unfold in front of us. One would have thought that we had just invented the wheel as we congratulated one another on this great idea. It would have been easy to overlook God’s hand in all of this, but in truth, not one of us missed the reality of His provision at just the time we needed it most.
One of the best parts about spending time with a God-centered group is that they are always looking to see where God is working. This is a key point to the study Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby. Jim and I took that study some years ago in our church and although we enjoyed it, we didn’t bother to apply the teachings we had learned.
A few years after that, we took the course again. That time, it was different. We were much more open and willing to learn those lessons. It was a difference of night and day for us. After Jim and I allowed God to work in our hearts, our eyes began to be opened to the reality of how God truly is always at work not just in us but also around us. Often we are just too self-centered to see that in action. We had been eager for God to work in us, to change us. If He was working elsewhere, well that was great…but that impacted ME how??? When honestly, we can always benefit from God’s work if we’re willing to recognize it and then be a part of it. Jim and I came to the conclusion that we didn’t want to miss out on a thing God would have for us, whether it involved us directly or whether we were to learn through someone else’s experience with God.
I think all too often, we tend to wait for the “big” moments. I believe more and more that all moments are “big” moments and it’s not that God hasn’t been working in any given situation, it’s that I’ve not been seeing it…sadly, more times than I care to confess, my eyes have been on myself, or believing my own ideas on who He is using and who He’s not and how I think it’s all supposed to go. I’m so thankful that I serve a God who is bigger than anything my mind can conceive and bigger than any box in which I try to make Him fit. I’ve learned a lot the last year and a half…Nicaragua is a humbling place to live.
Now here’s the thing that’s been rattling around in my mind about this whole horse cart and lady situation. We went to bless some people in Los Cedros by building them a new home. There’s no doubt God used this team to do that. But I think there’s something more…there’s something about that lady and her horse. I know for a fact we helped the woman financially that day. She received what would have been a week’s pay for her if she were able to rent out her horse and cart every day. But there’s something more that’s been niggling at me about her.
I don’t know if she was a Christian or not. Someone gave her a tract. Sadly, I found the tract thrown on the ground like trash a bit further down the hill. It almost hurt my feelings that she would do that, even though I wasn’t the one who handed her the tract. But then I thought that maybe she couldn’t read, which would not be at all far-fetched. Or maybe it fell out of her pocket. Or maybe she just plain didn’t want it. I don’t know. But what I do know is that woman was where we needed her to be when we needed her. She was available to be used. And she was willing to be used. I would love to think that maybe she saw God working around her and joined Him. I don’t know…but I think there’s a lesson in that.
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