We are involved in so much here in Guatemala it is too much to write about. I’m overwhelmed with the brokenness here. The dirt and garbage that children use as playgrounds, the rotting teeth, pollution, darkness of witchcraft, corruption, the belief that there is a God but He is not personal, the filthy clothes, and sometimes the only way to make a living is to sell your body.
I’m also overwhelmed by the joy, kindness, genuine giving, and acceptance of the Guatemalans. I love the beauty of these people, the smiles, the enthusiastic ‘Gringos!’ welcome we hear, the hope, the love of their country and people to be all it can be, the laughter, sarcastic humor, transportation of 4 people +infant on a Mo-ped, their patience with our broken Spanish conversations with them, the soccer games, their ability to teach us dance moves, the openness of wanting prayer, and for us to live and love with them.
Each ministry is so different and each one is a favorite for different reasons. But I think my absolute favorite ministry each day isn’t on our list of ministries. Jill, Misty, and I decided to go walking around the neighborhood in between a ministry site and dinner. While walking, we saw some of the neighbor kids. We began talking to them, but soon ran out of our Spanish. One of the kids, Marcos, was wearing a soccer jersey. I asked them if they like soccer and before I knew it we were playing soccer on the street. Kendra, a beautiful girl, invited us to play in her backyard. Her backyard is a dirt rectangle with scraps of tin, broken glass, burned palm tree leaves, dog poop, and 2 soccer goals made of sticks and string.
Since then, we have played soccer everyday with these children. I look forward to it every day at 5. We are playing great since we are almost at the same level as these 5-12 yr. olds. Each day is filled with a more intense game, more laughs, dancing, and more of a relationship built with each kid.
From left to right: Sergio, Alejandra, Christopher, Alfonzo, Marcos, and Kendra.
I’m not only learning mad soccer skills and Spanish, but I’m learning a new depth of true joy, genuine giving, and God’s heart for the little things in life from these kids.
I was invited to the home of a girl named Jennifer. She is 9 years old and about as tall as me. Jennifer showed me her home where the family of 6 live. I was introduced to her pet chickens who will be dinner later. Where 6 people live is smaller than an average American garage with a kitchen outside and one mattress covered in dirt. It hurt me to see that this is their place of safety every night.
Jennifer, like the other kids, is so joyful and absolutely loving. I get about 10 hugs from her in an hour. She had a ring on and I told her it was beautiful. She then took it off her finger and put it on mine. I tried to explain that I liked it, but that didn’t mean to give to me. She would not take it back. I was blown away. Humbled. She doesn’t have much, but she gave me her ring with the biggest grin and the tightest hug. I gave her one of my bracelets to let her know we are friends for life.
Another thing that happened with this group was prayer. I’m sure there has been missionaries here that they’ve seen, but I haven’t expressed in words that’s what I’m doing. Wednesday Jennifer fell and got hurt. I questioned if I should pray for her. I wasn’t doubting if God heals, because I know He does. I’ve seen some miraculous healings such as a blind boy receiving sight. But I hesitated because I haven’t told them I’m a missionary. Kids get hurt all the time and I don’t pray for healing for this kind of stuff back home. I don’t want to change just because I’m titled a ‘missionary,’ but I want it to be a part of my life like it was in Acts.
I also began to wonder what if I pray and God doesn’t heal her and she leaves not knowing His power? I wanted instant healing or maybe it’s not worth the risk. I wanted to protect God. I labeled that kind of injury with the label of ‘minor.’ But then I felt a smack saying, ‘Trust me. I care about everything. Even what you label little.’
Who knows if Jennifer has ever been prayed for? What could this plant in her life?
With all that swirling in my mind, I had to tell myself that God is Healer. He heals. It may not be in the time or way I want, but that doesn’t mean He is not true to His word. He cares about even what we call little. He doesn’t need me to play it safe with Him. He chooses to use me when He wants. He says, ‘I Am that I Am.’ He is good,faithful, and true.
I prayed for that little girl. The pain stopped in her hand.
It may not be classified as a big healing such as a limb growing back or cancer to be gone, but God worked in her life. He showed His power and love right there for her. I was able to tell her that God is The Healer. Now they ask for prayer anytime anyone gets hurt or has felt sick.
I have to be reminded all that time that He moves more than I’ll ever know. While I see a small piece to the puzzle, He sees it all. He doesn’t need us, but He chooses to use us. What an honor and responsibility. I don’t want to miss out because of my sometimes small view of things. He has never failed before, why do I doubt? He says that He is ‘I Am that I Am.’ That is more than enough.
