It is hard to describe in words exactly what I’ve experienced my last two weeks in the Dominican Republic, but I will give it a try.
Following the teen camp we helped run, my team and I moved to a community on the outskirts of a different city, called Moca. We were the first team that our host ministry had sent into this area, and I feel very grateful for that fact. Right away, we were welcomed with open arms by the community, and loved greatly by people who didn’t have any idea what we were saying much of the time. From the start, the family that hosted us in Moca took care of us better than we could have expected, going above and beyond to keep us well fed and make us feel as comfortable as possible. We all recognize how truly blessed we were for these things, but that is not to say that our time in Moca wasn’t incredibly challenging at the same time.
The primary purpose for us being there was to run an English camp out of the church, next door to the house we were staying in, for the kids of the community. Monday to Friday, we would teach two classes, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. The first class was for the younger kids, up to age 10, and the second was for kids 11 and up. We saw a steady increase in the attendance of each class every day the first week, and by Friday we had about 30 kids in the morning class, and over 50 people in the afternoon one, most of whom were teenagers or older. We would come to find out from our ministry host that this was unprecedented, and they were blown away. Personally, my responsibility in this was to plan and teach the English portion for the afternoon class, which additionally consisted of bible devotionals, games, and songs.
However, at the same time, as we were welcomed by the people of the community, we all would become aware that there was something present in the community that didn’t want us there. The first evidence of this was something started happening at night after we went to bed. In the house we stayed at, there were not doors, and curtains separated each of the rooms from the small hallway next to the front door. One night, one of my teammates woke up in the middle of the night and saw someone standing in the doorway to the girls room, but dismissed it and went back to sleep. Then each night after that, another one of the girls would see the same thing, then more of them. We responded by praying over the house, then spending another night taking shifts praying for the house and the community for an hour each. As we were dealing with this, sickness started to hit us. The primary culprit was a virus called Chickengunya that had spread to the Dominican Republic from Haiti, carried by mosquitoes. I was fortunate enough not to have contracted this, but instead just a bacterial infection in my stomach.
Additionally while this was going on, we started to witness disruption in our ministry. The illnesses we were all feeling kept us from running our English classes as planned, as my teammate Ashley, who also functioned as our translator, had to travel to the doctor with those of us who were sick on a daily basis, instead of being in class. Also, we were blindsided by an unexpected backlash to spending time with certain people in the community, the rumor mill started running full-steam, and we were criticized as a result. I truly believe in everything we did, how we interacted with people, and who we interacted with, we were in line Scripture and with what the Lord had communicated to us. I think the disconnect happened because our experience with the Gospel, and who it should be shared with, was completely new and unfamiliar to the Christians of the community we entered. Eventually, everything was cleared up, and we were able to witness to them as we shared of the redemptive power the Gospel had in some of our lives. I truly believe that sharing the Gospel is not only for the unbeliever, but for the believer as well. Hearing again what Jesus has done for us, even after we have chosen to follow Him, renews and restores and transforms us every day.
So, through all of this, I know one thing is for certain: I can’t stop. I can’t stop the work I am doing on the World Race when times get hard, and things happen that are out of our control. I can’t stop because there are people all throughout the world who are broken and without hope just like I was before I knew Christ. If I view each person I come into contact with on this race as the lost little boy I used to be, I can’t not tell them of the hope that transformed my life.
This leads to my first prayer request. Please pray that I have courage and boldness in sharing the love of Jesus with people, as this is difficult and scary for me at times, and pray that I trust the Lord is in control when I do this, not me. Also, please pray for my team and my squad, as we leave for Haiti on Tuesday. Pray that we stay healthy and joyful in Haiti, and that we continue to allow God to move and work radically within us.
Finally, I have a prayer request for back home. Please pray for my sister Katie’s mom Camille, as she is now in home hospice with my sister and brother-in-law. Pray that she stays comfortable and joyful and the Lord holds her close to Him during this time. She had shown remarkable strength, courage, and peace during this time, and I pray that this continues, and that she has confidence that the Lord is in control and loves her immensely.
Also and update and praise for my earlier prayer request for my dad. He is now out of the hospital and getting better every day! I’ve also been told he had shot up a prayer or two to the Lord, which blows my mind and brings me joy beyond what I can describe.
Thanks for reading, much love to you all, and God Bless,
Andrew
P.S. Here are some pictures of my ministry and me with my squad this month in the Dominican Republic. Enjoy!
