After another journey of two flights and at least eight hours of driving, I'm back home. I've spent the last few days processing and trying to deal with another change in culture. As I talk through the work I did and all the experiences, one thing is clear: it was undoubtedly God-ordained. The Lord has been kind enough for the past two months to give me clear signs along the way--little whispers of peace that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
Guatemala: Land of Hope
TIERRA DE ESPERANZA
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The End is Another Beginning [El Fin es un Otro Principio]
After another journey of two flights and at least eight hours of driving, I'm back home. I've spent the last few days processing and trying to deal with another change in culture. As I talk through the work I did and all the experiences, one thing is clear: it was undoubtedly God-ordained. The Lord has been kind enough for the past two months to give me clear signs along the way--little whispers of peace that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
Treasures Found [Tesoros Encontrados]
In the midst of the tragedy in the communities outside the dump, there are inexplicable moments of hope and incredible opportunities for God's love. For six weeks in the American summer, Casa del Alfarero hosts mission teams from the US and they spend their time pouring into the people in the colonies. Every day I went to work, teams built new houses for families who used to live in tin shacks. The last week I was there, we built a home for a man and his family. Three years ago, Juan had prayed for a new home with, Greg, a visiting missionary from the States. This summer, Greg came back to the dump for the sixth year in a row...only this time it was to build a home for Juan and his family. The Lord answers prayers...in His timing and in His way, but the amazing thing is that He still uses people, we are weak people, but He uses us.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
En Busca de Tesoros en el Basurero [Looking for Treasures in the Dump]
Monday, July 25, 2011
Una Fin de Semana con los NiƱos de los Pueblos
Kids are the same everywhere. They have the same spirit, the same energy, and the same preciousness in the eyes of the Father.
Last weekend I went to Jocotan village in the south-eastern part of Guatemala to do Kids' clubs for the children there. I went with Don Fausto and his daughter, Grace. This family has been incredibly gracious to host me for the remainder of my time in Guatemala. Don Fausto Cebeira and his wife, Miriam, have built the Fundacion de Emmanuel from the ground up. This foudnation supports about 150-160 churches and about 5 radio station plants, most of them in the most needy parts of the country, including two churches in Spain and Cuba.
While in Jocotan, Grace and I planned and did three Kid's Clubs in Jocotan and in two rural villages nearby. The Jocotan area is 400 meters above sea level and has soil that is less than ideal for crops, which is the livelihood of most of the people in the area. In order to get to the village quickly and safely, the Cebeira's travel by helicopter when the weather is good.
In Jocotan, the kids are adequately dressed for the most part. They appear to be well-nourished in comparison with the children in the second rural village we visited on Sunday, Quebrada Seca, but in comparison with what real health and happiness looks like, what the Lord wants for each of those kids, their circumstances are heart-breaking. One girl sat in a back pew of the church with a vacant stare that never went away. I found out that she is almost solely responsible for taking care of her brothers and sisters. She was young and tiny, but after leaving for a minute she came back holding the hand of an even smaller little girl—her younger sister. At craft time she made a crown for her younger sister before making one for herself. She gathered crayons for both of them—she was a mother before she should have to be.
One of the other kids, Carlos, was the most hyperactive of all of the kids in Jocotan. He was funny and energetic, but a handful, requiring love and patience. Instead, when his older brother is home, Carlos is tied up with chains to keep him under control.
At the first village we went to, Uxurja, we waited at a half-finished church in the middle of the mountains for the kids to come. After we had prayed with the local pastors and right before we were about to leave about five kids came walking down the road—if this is why God has us here then it would still be good. We ended up doing our program twice because more and more children kept coming. Two very sincere boys raised their hands when it was time for the altar call. In an area paralyzed by witchcraft, the new church there and the pastor will be very important for those kids.
At the second village there were children already waiting. The church in that village started with a congregation of only children and had grown to include three families. The children there had bloated stomachs and water running down their cheeks—I couldn't tell if it was tears or sweat. In different areas of Guatemala the people speak about 26 different indigenous languages. The kids here speak one of the indigenous languages and Spanish. They didn't always understand every word we used in our program. Grace had to explain to them the word for “fair.” This is a concept they just didn't understand. It seemed they hadn't been exposed to it before we came to tell them about our sins and how Jesus carries that load for us if we will only give it to Him.It the midst of the heart-breaking circumstances I saw in these villages, there was still hope. The kind of penetrating light that only God is capable of, through the hard-work and dedication of His people.
The pastor at the second village used to be just like one of the kids he now pastors. He is a Shorti, one of the people indigenous to the area. When Don Fausto met him, he was interested in Theology. He had gotten saved in Jocotan after walking in to town for church. Don Fausto offered him an opportunity to attend the seminary the Fundacion de Emmanuel founded and operates. After deliberation, his family decided they would let him go, but he was terrified. He had no shoes and saved the food he got at McDonald's in case they gave him no more at the seminary. Today, he wears black loafers, black dressed pants and shirt, with a cell phone tucked in his pocket. He is great with kids and led them in songs for us. He is working for the next generation. He knows where they are at.
In Jocotan there is a boy who thinks he is very cool. Before coming to the first kid's church service, he showed off by doing flips in the field for Grace and I. He posed for photos and laughed at the pictures. What isn't immediately apparent is that he is looking for something. He is the only one in his family who comes to church. He comes alone, but he comes regularly. Even though he might be too cool for it, when we left, he gave Grace and I each a big hug.
Grace told me stories about another mission trip she helped on in the area. One woman had a baby so small the doctors couldn't tell she was holding a child. They finally convinced her to let them treat the dying child, but she wasn't concerned because she had already accepted that the child wouldn't live, as many mothers must. The doctors also took pictures of each patient before they left and gave them a copy. Many of them had never had a picture taken. One woman insisted that the picture was not of her. The doctors had to show her that she was wearing the same clothes. She was shocked because she didn't know what she looked like. Only 4 hours of driving away from the thriving metropolis of Guatemala City and there are people living like they are still in the Stone Ages. Darkness has a huge grip of fear of these people. Enough to keep them from never leaving their village.
When there are situations like this in the world and we know the Truth, what is our responsibility?
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Dios Ama a los NiƱos
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Strawberry Fields and Fiestas
After most of the work on the clinic was done, I helped Sherie and Kassidy, of the amazing Morris family, stain the new bunk beds Jeff Morris was making for Nuevo Pacto (the oldest boys house). After getting all the boards covered in stain and making a mess, including some hair dunking into an open container of stain, we felt pretty accomplished.
On July 4th, I forgot it was July 4th. For some reason our Independence Day just isn't a big deal here. Most of the morning, I worked with Jami and the Morris family in Nuevo Pacto to tear down old bunk beds, move ones that were too big to a bigger room and build new ones. The entire orphanage is built on a hillside with casas and buildings at various levels. This means that when you work on something in the wood shop at the bottom of Casa's part of the mountainside you have to carry it up the stairs all the way at the top to bring it to Nuevo Pacto. This also means that when you are taking old scrap wood from old beds to the woodshop you're better off just throwing it down the hill.
Casa Bernabe is a beautiful place. Most importantly, the people are beautiful. The kids who live here and the adults who serve here have the most lovely spirits. To complement that atmosphere, the landscape captures your heart too.
When this place looks like this, it's hard to consider anything really hard work. I weeded the new strawberry field with Cheryl and Sydney (two other short-term volunteers). As we pulled weeds, making sure to avoid the tiny new strawberry plants, we talked about our relationships with the Lord. I had the opportunity to hear Sydney's testimony and to share mine with her. After we finished working, we sat down in the middle of the strawberry field and talked about the Lord, about life, and about why we were there...how three girls from California, Texas, and Indiana ended up at the same orphanage in Guatemala to learn how to have more faith, love better and serve the Lord.