It has taken me awhile to write this blog, because this has been something heavy on my heart and difficult for me to process. I will do my best to articulate my heart to you, but words probably won’t do it much justice.
Almost two weeks ago we left for the Mishaualli Jungle. We packed our bus with about 40 people and we were ready for a five hour winding ride down to a pretty remote area. The moment our bus pulled up it was evident that this culture was even that much more different than what we had come to know in Quito. We quickly unloaded our bus and climbed into the hostal that we would be living at for the next four days; laughter and joy radiated for the next few hours as we explored the part of the village our hostal was in; all-exclusive with monkeys, a beach, and breath-taking views.
Our first day of work required a 20 minute drive from where we were staying so we packed the back of a tiny truck with 30+ people, all standing, and proceeded on crazy bumpy roads to our destination. First stop, was manual labor work where we helped a local missionary-run school move branches in order to make room to build a couple new classrooms….this was the result….
welcome to the world where it rains everyday in the Jungle.
After cleaning ourselves off we prepped a bit and headed to a different, which was another 20 minute truck drive, to lead VBS for hundreds of kids in the jungle.
As our truck started approaching our destination I became a bit more aware of our surroundings. There were women in local ponds and streams washing heaps of clothes. We saw dirty and falling apart homes with children and families standing outside staring at us; the truck filled with a loud group of North Americans. At first, I was quick to assume, wow we are in poverty. But I am learning that I come from a culture that is so built upon poverty being a financial deficit that I realized just because something appears that way, does not mean it is so. And once these children started sprinting from all directions of the jungle to meet our group, I began to understand these kids were far from poverty. There clothes might have been a little dirty and their hair might not have been brushed….well..ever. But they surely were not poor. They radiated so much joy and life in those few hours we spent with them.
It didn’t matter that we hardly spoke each other’s language and could barley verbally communicate and it surely didn’t matter that they had never met us before. All that mattered was for the next three hours we had an opportunity to radically love this kids. God taught me in these moments, with these kiddos, that love can look like so many different things. I saw this most through a little chica I got to know named Julian.
Julian was an eight year old ball of absolute joy. Her laugh complete with a quirky smirk and her personality filled with love and adventure.
God taught me love without words through Julian.
God taught me love through Julian climbing on my back, getting her dirty toes stuck in my hair to reach my shoulders and squeeze my neck as tight as possible as we proceed to run through the muddy open field making car vrooming noises, and spinning in circles until we almost threw up.
God taught me love through Julian when we colored the piece of fabric together to make a head band and giggled at each others quirky drawings trying to guess what the other person was drawing by acting it out.
God taught me love through Julian when we sat on the bench together, holding hands and leaning our heads on each other shoulders. Not needing words, but just having the comfort of each other.
It wasn’t long before we had to load the truck back up and say our goodbyes. When I told her it was time for us to go her face appeared let down, but almost as if she expected it. I’m sure this isn’t the first time a group of North Americans have come out to the Mishaualli jungle to play with these kiddos and then had to leave. My heart felt torn apart.
It didn’t feel fair.
As our truck pulled away Julians eyes made contact with mine and remained until the truck was out of sight. Some of the kids sprinted after the moving truck for over a mile; hoping that catching up with us would mean just maybe we wouldn’t leave.
My heart was heavy for awhile as I began processing through what my life will look like for the 11-months on the worldrace as I do similar missionary work to what I had done in the jungle that day. My heart was heavy because I know in those 11 months there are going to be a lot of goodbyes. and I hate goodbyes.
But it’s not up to me. It’s not up to me how God chooses to use me to do His work and it’s not up to me how long He uses me in each place. Ultimately, I can plant a seed, but only He can harvest it. That doesn’t necessarily make it easy, but it assures me that through this all God is going to use me no matter how short or long-term I may be. It also assures me that God has give me a heart for consistency and community and I believe He is going to teach me something new and different in each nation I go too and I believe that He will put a burning desire on my heart and reveal to me where He desires me to be long-term. Maybe it’s Cambodia, maybe it’s back in the United States, maybe it’s even back in the Mishaualli Jungle.
But none of it is up to me and that is good news. I serve a Creator whose desires for my life go before my own. And each and everyday He reveals that to me in new and beautiful ways. I am so excited to serve such a good Abba Father.
Unfortunately, it was encouraged for most of us to not bring our cameras, so I didn’t capture any pictures of my sweet Julian. But here are a few pictures my RC Christy Zbylut took of some of the children and leaders from that day.
I hope I articulated my heart well! Keep all of us in your prayers out here in Ecuador! Praise God because in two months or so we will be going back to the same Jungle and working with those kids for another day or two again!
Also, a quick thank you to all who have been supporting me through prayer, by encouragement, and financially. I am looking for some help with the gear that I need to purchase for the worldrace! Some of it can get really expensive and none of the money that goes into my account can I use towards my gear. So with that being said, if you pray and feel led to support me in this way please go to i.com/wishlistAdd and type in Megan Spradley for the first and last name. My wishlist labeled “worldrace July 2014” Should pop right up! Thank you so much for considering this.
