Rehoboth CRC Team Visit

Earlier this month, we hosted a small short-term missions team from Rehoboth, NM. 3 high school students, led by my brother Peter and sister-in-law Kari, were excited to spend a week exploring how God is at work in Managua. We asked a university student from our church, José David, to join the team as translator, cultural ambassador, and a consistent face as the group bounced from ministry to ministry. Hosting a team is a lot of work for us: logistical planning, coordinating with ministries to set up meaningful interactions, and attempting to continue day-to-day life while hosting is not easy. The week was eye-opening, though--and not just for the visitors. The team was able to give us a fresh perspective on our own ministry here in Nicaragua.

Fresh perspective opened our eyes to beauty. As we first pushed our way out of the airport lobby into the muggy Managua evening the smell of diesel fumes filled my nose. “Wow, it smells like tropical flowers!” exclaimed a group member in all seriousness. Why could I only smell the pollution? Later in the week, as we drove through the dry countryside, someone said, “It is so green here!” I laughed--this is the brownest this country will be until the rains come again in May.  Throughout the week, the novel perspective reminded our 6-year veteran selves of the beauty all around us. Not just the beauty of the tropical vegetation and distant volcano peaks, but the beauty in the faces of our Nicaraguan friends and neighbors that we too often take for granted.

Fresh perspectives opened our eyes to brokenness. One day was spent connecting at Hogar Senil Bautista, a residential facility for about 20 elderly people near our home. The team painted (both walls and fingernails) and led a rousing game of Bingo. As we ended, Ruth asked José David to pray as we joined hands with the residents. Midway through the prayer, José David became quiet. He couldn’t speak as tears flowed down his face. Recounting the prayer later, he reflected that he could just feel the absolute loneliness of the place. We’ve been to Hogar Senil Bautista many times (our adopted grandma Norma lives there) and I’ve never really even stopped to think about the sadness in a place like this. We’ve learned to see right through the panhandlers at stoplights. Makeshift, dirt-floor homes of sheet metal and recycled boards like the home of the Tesoros de Dios student the group visited don’t often surprise us or make us angry. We don’t question the imbalance of resources anymore. New eyes allowed our protective callouses to be opened a bit again.

Fresh perspectives opened our eyes to hope.  As Ruth and I serve each day here in Nicaragua, our lenses are fully zoomed in on the day-to-day tasks and the long to-do lists that accompany our jobs. Stressful board meetings and underfunded projects can cloud our view of what God is doing in this place. As the visiting group toured and experienced places like House of Hope and Nicaragua Christian Academy for the first time, their new eyes were able to see the big picture of Jesus’ hope that was once fresh in our hearts, too. Kari spent one day at House of Hope, recording stories of residents to share with sponsors in the United States. Recurring themes of abuse, neglect, rape, and brokenness permeated the stories, but Kari was amazed that each and every woman also shared about God’s faithfulness and the hope they have in Him. There is hope in this place, a hope that transcends circumstance.

We fully expected that our visitors would be changed and challenged by the beauty, brokenness, and hope found in Nicaragua. We didn’t really expect that it would happen to us, too.

 Hogar Senil Bautista:

 Iglesia Bautista Esperanza

 Volcan Masaya

 Feria Nacional

 Tesoros de Dios

NCA International

 House of Hope

 Los Cardones

 Down Time

 More Tesoros de Dios

Jorge, my "PAL"

One would assume that building meaningful, cross-cultural relationships is something we prioritize while serving in Nicaragua. We are here, of course, for people.  But while I am constantly working with people, serving people, meeting with people, planning for people, and surrounded by people, I realize that one thing I don't do well is sitting down with people for the sole purpose of relating.

As an "achiever," and as a typical North American, I find that I often value work over relationship with those around me, often to a fault. I don't often take time to sit and talk with my co-workers. Many of my lunches are eaten while walking from the cafeteria to my classroom. Sure, I see myself as kind and friendly. I greet people and do the small talk. But sitting down with people for extended sharing and conversation? No time for that!

This school year, a co-worker and Ruth (in her role as expat staff care coordinator) launched a program called P.A.L., which stands for Participate, Acknowledge, Learn. The idea is that North American and Nicaraguan staff members are divided into groups of two, and that these pairs spend around 30 minutes each week together over a break or lunchtime. The main program purpose really aims to bridge the divide between cultures and worlds that are represented in our school community. NCA--a beautifully diverse school--actually struggles with cohesive unity and cross-cultural/language relationships--from our staff all the way down to our preschool students. I didn't really have a choice in joining the trial program as Ruth was helping coordinate it. The "I'm too busy to sit down for 30 minutes each week and eat my lunch" excuse wasn't going to work and also just sounds kind of sad when I say it aloud:(

Jorge and I meet on Wednesdays for a late lunch after my high school Study Skills class ends at 12:45.  Jorge has been at NCA for a little over 5 years after working for many years in a hotel and restaurant. He works with the security team at NCA performing many different functions. He spends part of his time opening and closing the front gate for vehicles entering the NCA parking lot. He supervises students buying food in the school cafeteria during lunch and breaks (not sure if he's ever caught a shoplifter!). He delivers and "flips" the heavy 5-gallon water bottles to classrooms throughout the school, keeping us all hydrated in this hot climate. He sets up traffic cones and manages the parking lot during dismissal. He delivers messages from the front office and the nurse to students and teachers around the entire campus. Jorge is always on the move!

Jorge cares for these three sons as a single father; after work, he continues to work when he arrives home in El Crucero after a 30-minute bus commute. He loves his family so much and loves providing for them. He dreams that his older two sons will be able to pursue their interest in auto mechanics.

Jorge nearly died 3 years ago. Stepping out of a bus in front of NCA in the morning before work, he was struck by a motorcycle passing illegally on the right side of the stopped bus. Jorge had severe injuries, including significant brain damage. Doctors were quite sure that Jorge was not going to live. After a long stay in the hospital, he was home-bound for many more months, unable to walk and talk. I remember the first time Jorge returned to visit NCA; students and staff were overwhelmed with joy seeing a walking miracle--an answer to so many prayers. But Jorge wasn't able to work yet; speech and memory issues continued to plague Jorge as did pain in his limbs. NCA eventually allowed Jorge to return to work on a trial basis to see if he would be able to complete his job duties, which I'm thankful for and I believe encouraged further healing and recovery to the point that Jorge is back at full capacity!

I'm thankful for lunches with Jorge. In our brief weekly meetings, he is teaching me a lot.
He teaches me generosity--Jorge almost always brings me a little dessert that he's purchased from the cafeteria; I am taken aback that he is choosing to spend his precious resources on me.
He models for me how to honor God with words--Jorge nearly almost mentions his love for God in our conversations, no matter how brief. I know some of Jorge's day-to-day struggles, yet, he never fails to mention God's abundant blessings in his life. One more day on earth to work and provide for his kids is enough to cause praise to fall from Jorge's mouth.
He teaches me grace. He listens to me speak in Spanish. Enough said:) I love his mini-lessons that he throws in during our time together.
He teaches joy. His smile is genuine as he walks around campus and as we sit together; his joy transcends circumstance.
He reminds me that not everyone lives like me. I love hearing stories about Jorge's family, his past, his household, his day-to-day life. We share an employer and both live in Nicaragua; after that, we're pretty much completely different as far as daily living and circumstance go.
He teaches me to be. I appreciate being "forced" to sit and talk about non-school stuff for 30 minutes. It helps me realign my priorities, see the "bigger picture" of ministry and life, and hopefully will help me find more moments to "be" with others without an agenda or a to-do list item to cross out.

It's embarrassing that it took 6 years and a formal program to make me sit at a table and share a weekly lunch with a Nicaraguan staff member. But it did, and I'm thankful for the opportunity to know and learn from Jorge. (For the record, Jorge approves this blogpost!)