A lot has happened over the last few weeks.
We wrapped up our ministry at Ecuasol – arrived in Lima after 30+ hours on a bus, sleeping at a bus station and on a hostel floor, and as soon as we began to settle in at a former YWAM base, it was clear that whatever plans we thought we had were about to be rocked.
First, we were briefed on a couple things.
1. Be careful when it rains, the roof may leak on the top bunks so everyone should sleep on the bottom.
2. If it gets too hot they may shut the water off.
Neither of these have happened in the past 50 years so there shouldn’t be any need for grave concern…
Well, that night the rains came and it was made clear real quick that the said leak was directly above my feet. Soaking through two mattresses on the top bunk and pouring down on me in the middle of the night, the rainwater was a wake-up call I was not anticipating. However, this rainstorm and many others in the Andes mountains have wrecked havoc on the surrounding areas of Lima with excessive flooding and mudslides, but I’ll be honest, I was completely ignorant to the situation, since it was so hot here I couldn’t fathom there being too much rain or water anywhere.
Wednesday we were scheduled to begin ministry locally, but that morning we received word that the night before, the pastor we were going to be working with was mugged while leaving a bank and was hospitalized, in stable but not great condition. So, instead, we were going to cover the city and the pastor in prayer that afternoon on a prayer walk along the beach.
We returned from praying so hot and sweaty from the dusty coastline that all we could think about was a nice cold shower.
But, our plans were halted. The water wouldn’t turn on.
It was then I remembered warning #2. If it’s too hot, the water may turn off.
With smiles still on our faces, and a number of baby wipes later, we felt we could take on anything.
8am the next morning we got a wake up call that started with, “This is going to test your flexibliity!” Bring it on. Be ready to leave at 10am for a 2 hour bus ride to a town that needs help sand-bagging their homes in to help prevent more damage if the rains continue and mudslides occur. We quickly gathered our water and peanut butter sandwiches and were pumped to be partnering with a church that also works with Compassion International.
2 hours later: We arrived but the sandbags did not.
They told us, “Come eat lunch and then come back tomorrow.”
Alright. That was an expensive and time-consuming lunch date, but that’s ok – see you tomorrow!
Here we are today, ready bright and early to sandbag the town, but first we go to buy drinking water from the downstairs tienda, and they are out of water…. so we went to the next store, out of water… No problem (although a little disconcerting) we can get some on the way.
One hour in: “Turn around, the bridge has collapsed and you won’t be able to make it to the site.”
At this point, I was sick as a dog on the bus, and all I wanted to do was feel like I had made some sort of contribution to the relief efforts here, but all I could focus on was the fact that I hadn’t showered in WAY too long, and was going to throw-up if we didn’t get out of that bus quickly.
I kinda lost it.
All I wanted to do was cry, but I didn’t have the energy.
My positive attitude left me high and dry in an instant and I was done.
We turned around and I prayed the whole ride back I could keep it together, physically and emotionally.
At the base we made a game plan. Get water.
Five of us headed to the grocery store, and it was a madhouse.
I was having flashbacks of Hurricane Sandy, spread out on the floor of Trader Joes stretching for the last 2 bottles of water barely out of reach on the back of the shelf.
We were then informed there was a 10 liters per family ration. So we split up and pretended we didn’t know each other and bought what we could.
Next on the list was blogging. We headed to a coffee shop to write some updates, and this was the newspaper next to me.
A reminder of where I wanted to be helping, but I felt so helpless. And honestly just plain dirty. My hands were perpetually sticky, dirt was permanently under my nails, and the spritz of perfume I snagged in the department store was just a facade for the stench underneath.
“I can’t make myself comfortable.” were the only words I had for my blog post … and writer’s block was real.
Then, a white man looking like he spoke little Spanish but a lot of English came straight up to me and asked me for the wifi password (I guess I don’t look like a local ;)) and then asked where we were from. Turns out, he and his wife met at California Baptist University which is 20 minutes from my house and I took some classes there last year! He and three other college students are down here on spring break to meet up with some people that they have been building relationships with over the years.
We then casually asked if they had water at their hotel wondering if any one else was in the same predicament we were… He said yes, and offered their four rooms for us to shower at if we’d like.
Of course we couldn’t pass that up! God is good.
The afternoon turned into us meeting some of their friends, walking an hour to their hotel to take the best shower of our lives, going to a traditional Peruvian restaurant for dinner with 25 strangers, making some awesome connections with another person who works for Compassion International, youth in the area, and some other mission-minded people from The States, and one girl accepting Christ at the end of the night.
I’m never sure what God is up to in these crazy moments. But all I know is that He incredibly orchestrated all of it, and I’m so grateful to simply be along for the ride. Flexible and interruptible.
(more on that blog post about not being able to make myself comfortable later… it still only has that single sentence.)
