Month TEN. How did that happen. As I write this, I have been on the race for 280 days, and have only 43 days left. On July 25th I will be back in the USA after 11 months abroad. It has hit me real hard lately just how fast this has all flown by.
With that- At this point, my thoughts are often consumed by post race life. Where will I live? What will I do? What will my community look like after living with 6 people 24/7 for nearly a year? Will I even remember how to drive a car? What’s cool in America these days? All the thoughts, y’all. And so many questions.
Additionally, coming into this month after last month has been difficult. Leaving last month in Roatan was definitely the hardest goodbye I’ve had on the race. It was truly an incredible month. Ministry was busy and fulfilling, our host family was amazing, and the place we lived was beautiful.
This month, my team is with a local church in Esteli (north part of Nicaragua, not too far from the border of Honduras). We are helping with church services, doing construction, working with kids, and even performing dramas/dances at the church. Our host family (Pastor Luis & his family) are wonderful. But the transition has been hard. It rains every day (which gets me a little blue), and ministry is not nearly as busy, which tends to make time go a little slower- and being in month 10, that’s challenging.
“Wherever you are, be all there” – a quote I love and often remind myself of. Well, I’m finding that it’s easier said than done. I am starting to feel the burn out, starting to daydream more and more about “normal life”, about hot showers and Whole Foods and my bed.
But God is reminding me that he’s not quite done with me yet. I have 43 more days to trust him. 43 more days to be all here. This past Sunday, he reminded me of his faithfulness. Of his power. He reminded me to keep paying attention.
This past Sunday, we walked around the community to invite people to church. Let me tell you- this is probably my least favorite type of ministry. But this time was different and so sweet. The church members we were with did most of the talking (because let’s be real this girl isn’t about to do so in Spanish), and they simply told people that they were welcome to church. There was no questioning of “Are you saved?”. No- Just a simple invitation.
They told people- we don’t care what you wear. All God cares about is your heart, and all we care about is your heart. We met many people in the area, including a large group of soccer playing men (intimidating). Pretty soon after we started, one man approached us (my teammate- Andrew, specifically) and started talking to us about his life. About 3 minutes into the conversation, he was crying, telling us about how his father was sick and dying, and that he wanted to stop drinking. You could just tell on his face that he was deeply hurting.
I was shocked at how quickly he opened up to us. He wanted us to talk to all of his friends about The Lord, and even asked if he could join us in inviting people to church. He kept saying how he would be at the service later that night.
When he said that, honestly, I assumed he wouldn’t actually come to church. Doing missions for 10 months now, in a way -sadly- I’ve come to expect that. I’ve seen so many people this year choose not to come to church, or not want God. I’ve done it too at times.
Later that night, we had church. At the end of the service, the pastor asked anyone who wanted prayer to come up to the front. I was already pretty much a teary mess- they had played a song that is truly my jam- and hearing it sung in both Spanish and English got me goooood. Then I looked over and saw John, the man who we had met earlier that day, in the front of the church, getting prayer, and weeping. Well people, the waterworks were in full force at this point. As soon as I saw John standing there, humbly coming to get prayer, I felt God showing me how little faith I have. He was like- really Alysse?
How little faith do I have that I don’t even believe someone will show up to a church service? I had just assumed he wouldn’t show up. I assumed that it was just another church invite that would be turned down. It was then that God reminded me of the power of kindness. Of the power of a simple invitation- to be invited into a community, to be cared for. I felt like God was saying- | See! I’m still doing stuff! Just because you’re tired and have little faith, that doesn’t mean I’m done working. |
I have so much respect for the church members here who invited the community to church. The way they went out into the community was truly Christlike. They weren’t trying to convert people, there was no judgment. They were just simply going out and inviting them, being kind, smiling, and even cracking jokes!
That night, we got to share a meal with John, who hadn’t had one in 3 days. He humbly shared his story, and we had the privilege of getting a glimpse into his life.
Again, God reminded me that He isn’t done. I may be feeling burnt out, tired, and with little faith. But God is greater. He never stops pursuing his children. And he does that through love. Through us being obedient and going out into places and treating people with love and kindness. He does that by using us to invite people into a community where they can be supported, prayed for, appreciated, and loved.
I know God still has more to show me on this race. God has humbled me so much. He has reminded me to pay attention. To keep expecting Him to work in the lives of people around me. And if I am willing, he will use me.
So as I go into the final weeks of ministry on the race, I will try -with Gods help- to keep paying attention. To keep expecting. To fully be here, in Nicaragua (even on the days where I daydream of Chik-fila & home).
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Thank you everyone who has continually supported me this year. Thank you for every donation, every prayer, every good vibe or thought. Thank you for letting me use this blog as a way to share my heart, and for every encouraging comment! I can’t thank y’all enough.
