Today I saw my first miracle.
Not your usual miracle (I just laughed a little because “usual”
has become to mean watching as the lame walk, the dead breathing, the deaf hear
or the blind see). Even though I
have yet to witness any of these things, I truly believe it is a matter of time
before we do.
My miracle started on day two at Hope Haven Wheelchair
Factory. We are so blessed in our
first ministry, but that will be a
story to come. Today was a
distribution day; meaning kids came from all over Guatemala to be fit into
their wheelchairs. However; the
day started with Mickey and myself finishing moving solid steel machinery
across a warehouse. Nosotros muy
fuente. Which put us in a pretty
good mood (sarcasm). If you ever
have had a hernia via morning it is great way to start a work day (more
sarcasm).
We walked back to the office space to find three kids with
their families waiting for the fitting process. One of my teammates looked at me and told me to talk to the
father of one of the children. If
you want to know my biggest problem thus far it has been communication. I am a talker and it is hard to be a
talker when no one understands what you are saying. But I walked over introduced myself which concluded the
extent of my espanol. He
introduced himself back as Mercedes and his wife as Maria. Then little Pablo came into the
picture. Mercedes rambled off some
quick phrases followed by an exasperated game of charades. But my attention was on small Pablo.
Pablo was born with Down Syndrome and today he is three
years old. With one look this kid,
laughing, stole my heart and I knew I was where I belonged. After laughing for a little bit Pablo
ran to me and I was able to hold him while he walked or ran around. I started to joke around with Mercedes
and Maria that Pablo was a squiggly worm and that is speaking some truth.
This kid would flail around like the world depended on it. I was constantly keeping him from
hitting himself in the head and we would laugh and run around in circles. Eventually I was even sharing stories
with his family and through broken Spanish a relationship was formed.
One of my teammates looked at me and said, “You’re attached
aren’t you?” How do you answer
that? I had known this family for
a matter of a couple hours and here I was already dreading saying goodbye. So in my dumb stubbornness all I could
muster was “mas o menos” translated “more or less”.
But back to the story, to fit one of these wheelchairs is a
pretty intense process usually lasting from 2-4 hours. Some medical students from Connecticut
had came to the factory to work on this side of things so in between
measurements we would just hang out and love on the families, me and Pablo
would keep running around in circles, I would have his hands wrapped in mine
and his feet would just go. But I
found myself helping with the wheelchair just because this kid deserved the
best. I was in study mode, what
could I do to make this thing better or improve this process for the
family. Time flew for me but Pablo
started to get tired and restless.
His dad took him and he started wobbling around so I walked over and
grabbed his hand and he dove into my arms and just set serene for a few
moments. Some stretching of my
cheeks, some right hooks and left hooks, followed this. Maria was trying to stop him but I was
having fun with it. This kid was
curious and so was I. This lasted
for a while longer until the chair was ready.
The moment had come, only a few minutes left and they would
be leaving. We taught Mercedes and
Maria how to maneuver the wheel chair and all that was left was the
picture. But I had other plans, I
walked up to Mercedes and asked, “Orramos”. Which means can we pray for you guys. They eagerly accepted and I knelt down
placed one hand on Pablos heart and another on Mercedes shoulder and jumped
into a rambling prayer.
The only thing I remember saying is, “I commend you into
Jesus’ army” and it came out a couple times. I also prayed for healing but I cannot remember my words
because Mercedes began to just pray over us and just go for it. It was such a heart felt prayer that I
was not even focused on my prayer but I was just coming from my heart. We said, “Amen” and I stood up and
Pablo looked at me and smiled.
Then went squiggly worm.
But in that smile I knew, I don’t even know what I knew but I knew I
knew it.
You see, small Pablo with Down Syndrome is a Kingdom
changer. Ask me how I know
it? I DECLARE it. I learned a lesson today. So what if Pablo didn’t walk out of
that factory. The truth is he ran
all over that factory. Yea, I had
to hold his hands up so he could.
But God looked down on me and said you think you run all over this place
without Me holding up your hands.
You see we all need help to walk, how is it that you are running
around? If it isn’t by Jesus
holding your hands and saying, “You know what we will run in circles if that
makes you laugh, because when you laugh, I laugh.”
I said my goodbyes and with a few last hugs and blessings,
Pablo left. I turned around
fighting back my tears for the next hour or so. You see step one of my journey is being broken. Not in a bad way, but Pablo twisted my
heart in a direction it needed to go.
The rest of our day was spent praying healing over the other two
kids. And if you ask me if I
believed it would happen, I would tell you there is not a doubt in my mind that
every single kid was going to get up and run out of that factory.
There is power in the Name of
Jesus, to break every chain that holds us to this world.
single one of you!
