When I think of rocking chairs and front porches, I think of the South or cool nights at home. I never would have thought of Nicaragua, clothed in a humidity that never seems to sleep, looking out over a tropical garden, on an island at a couple’s house who we randomly found on the internet. But here I sit.
Perhaps I should back up.
This month—we’re finishing this Race with a bang—is unlike previous months. Instead of traveling to a country, connecting with a host and working alongside them and their ministry for the month, my team’s job is to seek out (through the Lord) new contacts for future AIM teams to come and work with. We look for people called Unsung Heroes: believers who have a ministry or vision that furthers the Kingdom. They’re unsung because they’re not heard. Yet.
Our assignment? Eastern Nicaragua. Anywhere we felt God was calling us to.
We started in Managua, the capital of this sunny, sweaty land. We prayed, we researched, we made phone calls, we prayed some more. Though we felt, in the beginning, that we were going into this whole thing blindly, I look back at the people we met and am shocked that of course it made sense. That’s what happens when God leads you around a foreign city in Central America.
One of the ministries we found is called La Luz de Cristo (the Light of Christ) Ministries. My friend, Bekah, and I trusted the blue line on my Google map and of course got lost (God likes to test my trusting abilities). We called our soon to be friend, Joliette who, after much confusion and handing my phone over to a stranger who spoke much better Spanish to explain to her where we were, came and picked us up.
We walked through beautiful gates into their home, a place that breathed life from the plants in the center courtyard area to the constant coming and going of teenagers and workers. Settling into some of the biggest rocking chairs I’d seen (must be a theme), we sipped on Coke and heard the joy, passion, and hearts’ cries of Joliette and her husband, Santiago.
La Luz has only been around for eight years, but they’re already bustling with six different types of ministries. Located in at least two cities in Nicaragua, their main focus is the free medical clinic in Empalme de Boaco. The other areas of outreach are:
- The local church—a community of Christ that provides clothing for those in need paired with evangelism
- The mission house—a safe place for women to come and learn how to sew dresses, aprons, and more in order to make money to feed their kids
- A soccer academy—targeted at boys ages 8-21, the soccer academy encourages boys to stay off the streets and away from drugs by providing uniforms, snacks, and healthy competition, as well as teaching them character building and goal setting for life beyond the academy
- Kids ministry—a branch that teaches children ages 3-8 how to read as well as instilling Christian values
- Pastoral program—a program that offers five to six seminars a year for pastors and leaders of the church
My Coke was gone, but the enthusiasm I had and felt from this couple was not. One of my favorite parts of this entire wild adventure have been the moments when I get to connect with brothers and sisters around the world and allow Christ to use me to encourage them and bless them. But, of course, they end up blessing me more than they’ll know.
All that to say, we left the house of life exhausted (Spanglish is tiring, folks!), but rejuvenated due to the ways the Holy Spirit spoke and directed us to Santiago and Joliette.
Back to the present, where I’m sitting in a different rocking chair in a different part of Nicaragua (the Corn Islands to be exact). It’s quite the contrast of world over here, but God is still very much the same, and still very much looking out for us. We have REAL TOWELS, comfortable beds, a new family (which, if you stay tuned to this traveler’s tales, will meet soon), and the cutest month old goat in the backyard. I am trapped inside a lobster exterior (also known as a terrible sunburn) but the stories and provision of the Lord that we’ve lived and seen these past days have been hilarious. Hilarious and frustrating and full of doubt and full of trust. This journey with Him, most recently by sea, is full of surprises. So many surprises I’d love to tell you about, but for now, I must listen to my exhausted body and retire to the best night’s sleep of this week. Maybe this month. Maybe this life. Clearly I’m excited. Who knows what tomorrow looks like, eh?
