what i want to leave behind

Yesterday was a beautiful day here in Granada, Nicaragua. The morning was cool and breezy and the church here at the AIM base where we are staying called El Puente (the Bridge) had a combined service at 10am with another church down the road called Total Fuente. The praise and worship was lead by Carlos, one of the guys that lives here with us and Heather, a staff member. After church we had a little carnival of sorts for the people. This past weekend has been a big party weekend in Granada. I’m not sure exactly why but there was a parade and all sorts of things but the most prominent feature of the weekend was the number of people who where drunk. We drove through the square one night late on the way home from Managua and there were people passed out all over the stairs of patios and laying all over the park. The streets were littered with bottles and trash. It was eerie. So the churches wanted to have an alternative fun option for families so the Holy Banditz and our team put together some games and stations around outside. We had face painting, fingernail painting, a piñata, slingshot target contest, various relay races, foot washing and hair washing stations. The women loved having their hair washed and Heather even picked up some scissors and began a hair cutting station in the ladies side of the bathroom.

 Ben and I were in charge of the foot washing station. Now this may sound a little awkward, a station where people come to get their feet washed but really it was beautiful. The women were not ashamed to come and sit before us and have us try and talk to them in our broken Spanish. One of them kept pointing to Ben as he washed her feet and saying “como Jesus!” over and over which meant “like Jesus”. “Yes,” he replied and then he tried to say something to the effect of “because of Jesus we do this. Jesus loves you.” She smiled.

Later in the afternoon Ben and I had taken a seat across from our foot washing chairs so that we could rest our backs. We had washed the feet of a group of about 4 young girls and they continued to hang around us chattering quickly in Spanish. They asked if they could have their feet washed again and I said no because other people needed to have their feet washed and then they started to pick up my feet and remove my shoes. One of them stuck her hands in the bucket with my left foot while the other brushed my shoes off with her hands. Another one supervised and told the one washing my feet that she still needed to get between my toes. When the little girl began running her fingers through my toes I couldn’t suppress my laughter and that delighted her. I smiled from ear to ear as they all took turns washing and drying my feet and intentionally tickling the bottoms. Then they insisted on painting my nails until lunch was ready. I proudly wear my blotchy pink nails with purple tips still today.

This is what I want to leave behind this year. These girls can’t even say my name (Erin is not a Spanish name and most of them find it terribly difficult to say anyway) but they wanted to serve because they had been served. Even in the most simple ways we can make a path for others to follow.