It’s been five days since we’ve left our ministry in Antigua and already I seems like a lifetime ago. Looking back it all seemed to end so fast. One minute I was holding Manuel Lito’s hands, studying each curve and line in his fingers; the next I was packed into a van watching the mountains and tiny towns fade away in the background.
I have a really hard time letting go of people. Jesus calls us to have no walls, to let people in and take up residence in our hearts. And then He calls us to go. To move on to the next village, the next high school, the next hospital, the next coffee shop and do it all again. I am here in El Salvador with beautiful people in a beautiful country, yet I still hear the voices of another. I can still smell the streets of Antigua: smoky tamales roasting in the market; fresh pineapple and melons sliced open, drawing me in for only 10 Quetzales. I can still hear the people: “Aguacates! Aguacates! Dos por cinqo Quetzales!” and “Donde esta Brittany? En tu corizon!”
Dogs barking.
Roosters crowing.
Church bells ringing.
Manuel Lito breathing…
There is a little boy here at the children’s home in El Salvador and he is only one year older than Lito. Yesterday, Nathan gave him his camera to take pictures and he ran around for at least an hour clicking the most random snapshots. After seeing each one captured on a tiny screen, he’d laugh and run on to take another one. His legs are so strong; his arms and hands move with ease. He hikes up his pants when they fall down and he rolls around on the ground as he tells a silly story in Spanish. He is an acrobat and I weep inside with a thankful heart that he is free. And then I weep inside as I remember little Lito in his metal framed bed.
The Lord whispers: “Do you trust me?”
I say, “yes.”
Last month was great and beautiful and full. God blessed us and used us to bless others. I could have stayed there forever but his plan, his request was one month…and I have to trust him; it’s the only way. Those children touched my heart deeply and someday I’ll go back home to my place in Nova Scotia and they’ll still be here and so will God. He did not come to Antigua only when we did and He did not leave when we left. He was and is and always will be by their side. For now my door to Guatemala and all her treasures has closed, but here in Santa Tacla, El Salvador, another has opened. And I hear the Father say, “it is good.” There is opportunity for much to be done here and for love to arise and bring the dead to life.
Please join me in praying that as one door closes and another opens, our team would fully embrace it.
That we would trust God with our past and the people in it.
That we would stand firm in the promises and revelations He has already given us.
That we would love without holding back.
And that we would walk into this open door with no hesitations, no reservations and no more fear!
