Las Semillas: 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.