I am now in month nine in Honduras, but I am talking in this blog about something from my month in Nicaragua because it was a busy month and I didn’t get around to blogging it!
Blogs about Honduras will be coming shortly!
At home I helped teach Sunday school to (the most adorable) 4 year old class (who side note, I miss so dearly!) My responsibilities there, along with a second teacher, was to show up a few minutes before the early arrivals, greet my class of about 18 children as they came in, teach a bible story from a pre made curriculum, pull out the already printed coloring sheets and ample supply of crayons from the craft cabinet, ration out the gold fish and water from the snack cabinet, and sit on the floor and play with Legos or put together puzzles or imagine that the plastic food served to me was the most delectable thing I’d ever tasted. Once the time was up I would hug the kid’s goodbye as their parents came to pick them up. If there were some parents still socializing and were late to pick up their kids, it was okay because the second service teacher would show up and assure me it was quite alright if I left, she could take it from there.
An hour and forty five minutes.
That’s all it took for me to teach Sunday school, once a week.
In Nicaragua we were told that we were going to help some sisters from the church teach Sunday school. With it now being month eight, we knew that the Sunday school setting would not be like we were used to in the States. The Sunday school teacher we helped however, blew my mind.
She picked us up at the Pastors house around 7:30am. We then walked with her through trees and villages on small muddy paths for about a mile to get to the area that they have the Sunday school. The bare, concrete walled room, with no doors was given to them to use Sunday mornings for the kids of that community. She then pulled out coloring sheets, bread pastries, and juice that she had gotten earlier that morning and paid for out of her own pocket.
After these obvious acts of selflessness had humbled me already. I then looked around couldn’t help but notice that one very important thing was missing from this Sunday school.. children. Maria then exclaims with excitement,
“Now it is time to get the children!”
‘Get the children’ turned into walking a mile down a road and stopping at each house that she knew children lived at, greeting them and their parents by name and reminding them that it was Sunday and Sunday school was starting soon. The children would begin scrambling to take their weekly bath in the outdoor sink so they could be clean for church and assured her they would be ready in time.
When we reached the end of the mile long road, we then turned around and walked back up the road and as we did the children came running! “Teacher! Teacher!” these children adored Maria. By the time we returned to the classroom we had collected no less than thirty children. She knew all of their names and asked about specific things she knew was going on in their lives.
They listened to her when she taught the lesson, they joined in when she began singing songs at the top of her lungs because there was no sound system, they were enthralled with the games we played because there were no toys to distract them, they shared the one crayon they each got to color their picture with, and they gratefully accepted their snack and didn’t even consider asking for more.
After the class concluded. We walked back down the road lined with what in America we would consider ‘shacks’ as houses and dropped each child off at their house and once we reached the end of the road and had no children left, we had to walk back up the mile long road to clean up the classroom and then walk back to the Pastors house.
The Sundays that I was fortunate enough to work alongside Maria, I was beyond humbled by her commitment to these kids and her dedication to serving God. Every Sunday this process takes her no less than probably four hours. As well as her own money, six miles of walking and on top of that, when we aren’t there to help her, she does it alone.
I cannot help but think about how easy we have it back in the States.
This experience helped me come to a realization about two things.
1) Those of us who serve in the church (in any way, not just Sunday school) have no room to complain. We should be so thankful for any and all help and supplies that we get and not pick apart how we would do it differently. We should remind ourselves every day how blessed we are and thank God that we have the opportunity to share the precious bible stories with the children of our church. And we should be investing in the children’s lives and caring about their families. We should be showing the love of Christ in our example. Because that is what it is all about, that is what impacts people.
2) If you’re not serving or involved in your church because you claim you ‘don’t have enough time’ I challenge you to rethink that. An hour and forty-five minutes on a Sunday morning to teach Sunday school, thirty minutes to greet people when they come into church, or an hour bible study once a week. You can miss it every once in a while, you don’t have thirty kids banking on you picking them up and if you don’t they are left wondering why. You don’t have to pay for supplies out of your own pocket, you don’t have to walk six miles in order to do any of it or sing in front of a crowd. So quit making excuses. Serve the way you know you should be. Get involved in the area you have been putting off.
Trust me, it could be worse.
