This past month my team lived and served the community of Santo Domingo Xenacoj in Guatemala. We worked with Go! Ministries and visited widows and orphans and schools, volunteered at a wheelchair factory, prayed heavily over the locals, played countless games of soccer and basketball with the children and learned a ton of Spanish.
For a weekend off, my team and I decided to travel down to Antigua to visit La Cruz, shop in the Guatemalan market and FaceTime our families with good wifi.
We planned to stay at a hostel for just one night and head back by 4 p.m. the following day. Some were sick for the first half of the trip and others just wanted to stay to explore more of the old town, so the majority decided to stay a second night.
It was down to myself and one other teammate, Kelsey, who wanted to go back up to Xenacoj. As we sat on the sidewalk outside of the cafe we’d planned to meet up at, she prayed. I knew she was talking to Jesus so I gave her some time to hear from Him.
“Let’s stay,” Kels said.
“Are you sure?” I questioned.
“Yes. And instead of just looking at it as more time to relax, let’s see what the Lord has for us. I believe there will be a reason we end up staying.” I grinned and thanked God for blessing me with a best friend that’s such an incredible listener. She hears Jesus so clearly sometimes.
We went about our day and met back up with the rest of the team. Some of us decided to venture out for dinner so we walked around the cobblestone streets to find something to satisfy the longing of “good food” our stomachs were feeling.
We sat around a table and opened the menu. The prices were a bit high and in hopes of staying within our budget, Kels and I decided we were going to go somewhere a little more World Race friendly.
We ended up at the same cafe we’d spent most of the morning drinking Guatemalan coffee and catching up with our friends from home. We sat on the same side of the booth, ordered two bowls of tomato soup and a chicken panini to split and spent the evening reminiscing about the past and planning for the future.
As we talked about the things of our hearts, smoke filled the air we were breathing. We sneezed and coughed and shooed away the black smog coming through the window to the right of us.
“I think it’s from the volcano that’s been erupting all day,” I said. Kels didn’t think so. She stood up and looked out the window into the side street. Turns out she was right.
“Come look,” she said as she waved for me to join her.
The streets were full of smoke and hundreds of men dressed in purple gowns. I was overwhelmed with eeriness. We stood in awe of the procession happening before our eyes. Women swaying cauldrons of incense, vendors selling what looked like voodoo dolls of the purple men on a stick, percussionist drumming.
Then we saw larger than life size figurines of Jesus carrying a cross, Mary praying and other biblical characters on a huge float being carried through the streets by at least 100 men.
“What is this?” we asked each other. Both Kels and I have an extreme level of sensitivity to spiritual darkness. We both felt uneasy.
“I think this is one of the reasons we’re here tonight,” Kels said. “Now we know what we can specifically pray for.”
I began a conversation with a man standing outside the window our heads were sticking out of. His name was Philipe and through our broken English and Spanish, he told me he works for the Guatemalan government and that the procession, as he called it, was very special to everyone in Antigua, whether they were Catholic or not.
It was getting late and we inhaled about as much incense as we could handle so Kels and I decided to head back to our hostel. As we walked along the sidewalk, we passed groups of homeless people making their beds for the night. For some, that meant blankets or cardboard and for others the ground alone sufficed.
We passed three men and I felt the urge to stop. I waved Kels over and we began a conversation.
“Como te llamas?” I asked them.
“Marcos, from Belize,” replied one.
“Olvis. Like Elvis with an O” said the one in the middle.
“Christian,” said the third.
We asked them about their day, their families and eventually asked if they knew Jesus. Marcos continuously told us he was from Belize but also shared his parents are addicted to drugs. Olvis told us he had lived in California for 23 years but had been deported and has lived on the streets ever since. He said he had an interview for a job that afternoon and would find out if he got it during the next. Christian sat quietly and listened. Olvis and Christian said they believed in Jesus and Marcos asked about going to church.
I knew Jesus had something for Olvis to hear so I let Him speak.
“Continue to find your strength in the Lord,” I said. “He is your Father and you are His son. You have been chosen by Him and are worthy of His love.”
He looked as if he could cry. I read Matthew 6:26-34 and encouraged them to trust God to provide all they needed.
“Thank you,” Olvis told Kels and I. “Talking to you two has given me hope that I had lost.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. Another reason why Jesus had us stay, I thought.
My passion for loving on the homeless rose back to the tip top of my heart and Jesus revealed a little piece of what’s in His plans for my future.
We prayed for our new friends and their families and continued on our way, talking about just how awesome Jesus is; interrupting our plans for some much greater than our own.
How has the Lord interrupted your plans recently? Were you able to see His glory?
