Antigua is
a city of magnificent beauty and immense poverty. The massive volcanoes tower
above the
city and beggars are seated on every street corner. I wondered about
my role in this place with such a strange dynamic. I am here to rest, but I am
not a tourist. I had been praying that ministry would not be something that I
would turn on and off, but something that would become as natural as breathing.
I
set off for the park, with my Bible and journal in hand, ready to process the
last month. I found a bench in a quiet corner of the park surrounded by trees
and looking towards the fountain. I began to pray, “Lord open my eyes to see
You…”
I
look up to see a small boy standing directly in front of me, joyful smile
spread across his face, looking intently at me as though he is waiting for me
to speak. “Hola.” I say, returning his bright smile. This precious boy is
Estavan. He is 6 years old and his mom sells jewelry in the park. We continue
chatting and laughing as a woman approaches with a baby tied 
on her back. “Tu
mama?” I ask my new friend. He nods. I am introduced to Estavan’s mom, Juliana,
and younger brother, Juan. As I sit down and begin talking to Juliana, she
starts to share her story…
Juliana’s
husband died 8 months earlier. She has no family. She is left alone to raise
her three boys: Estavan (6), Manuel (3), and Juan (1). She is heartbroken over
the loss of her husband and worries about not being able to feed her children.
She moved from her small village to Antigua 6 months ago in hopes of selling
jewelry to the tourists there. The police are constantly hassling her and
others like her for selling items in the park. Her tired eyes show the burden
of caring for three small boys alone, but her smile radiates hope in Christ.
“Can
I pray for you and your sons?” Juliana’s face lights up. “Si, si.” “Ahora
(now)?” “Si, si” So, I take my new friend’s hand and begin to pray in a mix of
English and Spanish. Then I just spend more time talking to Juliana and playing
with Estavan and Juan.
I
leave with the promise to return tomorrow.
The
next day I spot her in the park with Juan still strapped securely to her back. “Juliana,”
I call out.
She breaks forth in a beautiful smile. “Ah, mi amiga,” she exclaims
as she leans over and kisses my cheek. Juan climbs in my lap. Juliana and I
chat briefly and then I ask to buy one of her bracelets. We wait until the park
police have passed and then I purchase a bracelet. I tell Juliana that every time
I wear this bracelet I will pray for her and her children.
I
prayed to see the Lord in Guatemala. I have seen Him in Juliana’s concern for
her family, in Juan’s smile, and in Estavan’s joyful laugh and openness. I have
seen Christ’s face here and it is beautiful!
