As I think about this month I find it hard to know what to say about it.
This month I learned how to be loved, how to love, and I learned how big God’s love really is!
Nicaragua was full of beautiful amazing people, and full of God’s beautiful artistry. Living in Granada was both a curse and a blessing. It was a curse because it was expensive, being a tourist city, so my budget went to….. well you get the idea! But it was such a beautiful blessing to have the honor to know the residents of one of the oldest cities, many of the haunting architectures adding a sense of pride for Nicaragua. The city was surrounded with a massive lake on one side, a huge volcano towering over it, and forests stretching beyond!
I fell in love at first sight!
During our month of ministry with El Puente church we got to see first hand how the locals who work for them, and the American missionaries who run the church, love the people of their community. We visited a nursing home, where our friend, Julio, who was born in Nicaragua, but lived in San Francisco as a child, loved the residents there. He ran around with us, translating for the men and woman, hugging them, praying for them. You could see his pride for the elderS in the nursing home. Jesus loved him, so it was up to him to love these children of His. The guards who worked at our home, they really loved God and this ministry so much that they would do anything to keep everyone within its walls safe. They became our friends and we trusted them with our lives.
One of our ministries was visiting a dump. The first time we went I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know how I would handle it or what I would say. As we spoke to the people, as we watched them working hard in terrible conditions, making a mere $14 a week, eating what could possibly be their only meal all day because we provide it, I was struck by a word. I kept hearing over and over again
“These are my children, whom I love.“
Over and over again, God reminded me of who they were, and who I am. God loves them just as much as he loves me. That was the theme of my whole month, seeing God’s children, and knowing that he loves them as much as he loves me.
One of the biggest reminders was a ministry we did twice a week. On mondays and fridays my team walked to the City center park, where vendors ran their businesses, beggars flourished, and white tourists were bombarded by different sales from every corner. We walked to City Park and we sat on benches, or walked around, and we prayed. We asked God to reveal to us who HE wants us to speak to, or what HE wants us to do. As we sat there we had people just walking up to us, ready to talk! We had vendors try to sell us things, only to have us end up praying for them instead and talking to them about their lives. But I think the most significant thing that I saw this month wasn’t from the grown men selling on the streets, like our friend Salvador who loves God and learned english from listening to people, but from the children.
The children of Nicaragua, the ones on the street, broke my heart most of all. They walked around with vacant stares, affected by their drug addictions, asking us for money, or handing us pretty flowers made of grass, then telling us we have to pay for it. Their clothes hung off of them, and they wore dirty worn shoes. They walked amongst the restaurants, and tables outside.
One day we played music in the park, and as we sang worship songs to God, a young boy with a vacant look walked up to listen. His eyes were slightly unfocused, his mouth hanging limply open, but he bobbed to the music, showed a shadow of a smile, and clapped along. I asked him his name and he said it was Jose, and that he liked music. As he sat to listen he pulled out a jar from his pocket and lifted it to his mouth and nose. Inside was a caramel colored wax, and I knew at once what he was doing. He was addicted to glue sniffing. My heart broke in two at the sight of him, and all I kept hearing, again and again, “This is my child, Whom I love.” Yes God, yes, he is your child, but why does he have to live this way? “This is my child, whom I love.” But he could have a better life than this, he could be healthy and free from this affliction, he could grow up and become a pastor, or a business man, or just become a mentor of the youth, spreading your love. “This is my child, whom I love.” Yes God, I will show him your love.
I turned to our interpreter and friend, Mario, and asked if he wouldn’t mind speaking to Jose and breaking the ice for us to speak to him. As Mario spoke with him a police officer came up and roughly grabbed Jose by the arm, pulling him up and taking him over to side, beginning to search him. My heart pounded in my chest and I prayed for Jose’s protection. I prayed that this man wouldn’t become too rough. I prayed that I wouldn’t witness police brutality. I prayed that God would allow Jose the chance to hear our story. And he did. Jose was let go and he returned to us. He was 14 years old and addicted to glue. He knew that this was wrong and wanted a better life but he didn’t know how. He asked us to pray for him and we did. We laid our hands on that child and showed him a love that he probably never experienced in his entire life. We prayed that the demons inside of him would be released in the name of Jesus. We prayed that his addiction would be no more.
We prayed for this child of God to know his father.
There were so many that we met like Jose. There was Kenny who asked me for money, but instead I bought him a muffin, to show him that his hunger was more important than his addiction. There was Alberto, who sold grass dolls on the street, who asked us to pray for his family. There was the young boy who couldn’t be more than 13 but was violently high when we met him. There was the young boy who demanded that I give him my gatorade, then told Margot she was the devil. These children are desperate for love, but have never been shown true love. These children are loved by the greatest Father, but they don’t know that. They don’t know that we really are trying to love them with the holiest love. I fell in love with Nicaragua because of the people. I fell in love with Nicaragua because of the beauty of the brokenness. I fell in love with Nicaragua because GOD fell in love with it first. I was truly sad to leave, because I saw so many ways I could continue to work there, and I hope that someday I can go back. So that I can teach Jose how to play an instrument for God. So I can take Alberto’s family under my wings. So I can continue getting to know the people at the dump. So I can give Kenny a full meal. So that I can teach that boy that was high that God can give him so much more than glue, because he can give him JOY! So I can teach that boy with the devil that God is stronger than Satan, that God has conquered all! My time in Nicaragua was too short, and I will never cease to pray for Granada and remember the lesson that God taught me.
We are all God’s children, whom he LOVES!
