This is a blog dedicated to my past teams’ Panamanian father, Enoc.

 


 

Envision someone taking you to the top of a mountain. Your ride up is exhilarating, and you’re pretty sure you’ll make it to the destination. Your hair is whipped around by the wind, and the chill of morning has created goosebumps. Once up there, you pull into a driveway and hop out. Stepping through tall grass, you’re on the lookout for cow pies, because you can’t afford to lose your sneakers. As you make your way to where Enoc is standing, you look up to your right.

 

Your breath catches, and your eyes widen. Your mouth is slightly parted in awe of the scene before you. In an effort to get out words, you clear your throat. No words come to mind though, because your view is a sprinkle of heaven on earth.

 

Light is cascading from the sky into the valley below you, creating golden pools of sunshine. You are able to see lush, green mountains on all sides that speak strength and protection. You can see the fullness of the Earth that you are walking on and surrounded by. The only verse that comes to mind is, “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof..”, and you can sense the awe that comes with recognition of the creativity of the Father.

 

You are surrounded by beauty that is pure and untouched by the complaints of daily life, one that is locked in on praising it’s Creator with every gust of wind, every leaf swaying, each blade of grass growing upward in an effort to reach Him.

 

This is what I saw unfold that morning. It was our last one working on the farm in Panama.

 

Our dad, Enoc, beckoned us over with his hand. So, as we all crowded around him, he just breathed out and said how beautiful it was. He gave us space to soak it in. And then, he asked us to pray over that land; to pray over the space that was laid out under our line of sight. We prayed for their ministry, and for their farm. We prayed for the promises and new things God had for them as a family and a ministry; for joy, peace, fruitful land and fruitful ministry.. For closer bonds as a family, strength for them to continue this work, doors to be opened and that God would continue to send them workers to help fulfill the vision He had given them.

 

We prayed with intensity and with strength born out of the love that we had developed for the Caballero family and their farm. Enoc prayed with us, arms lifted. The surrender of this farm to God was so evident not just in this prayer time, but in the way that their family lived.

 

As prayer began to wind down, we had worship music playing. I thought we were almost finished. But then, Enoc stood and began to walk to one of my teammates. He knelt besides her and began to pray over her. As he prayed, you could hear the emotion and the intentionality of his words. He finished praying over her, and hugged her. Then, he moved on to the next one of us. He continued to do this, praying over each of us and our hearts. After praying, he spent time hugging each of us as long as we needed it.

 

I sensed him walking up behind me, and I was grateful for his prayers, but I knew that it was wrecking my heart on the inside. As he was speaking, I shook from the tears that I was desperately trying to keep in. As he hugged me, he continued to repeat how much he loved me. The pride in his voice was destroying the strength I valued so much. I’ve always felt that real strength was not crying, and being able to control my emotions. I knew deep down, that wasn’t true. Yet doesn’t it feel difficult to let go of your “strength” and allow vulnerability to show?

 

So, as dad hugged me, I was a sobbing mess. Not because I was sad about leaving (even though I was), and not because I couldn’t keep my emotions together (even though I couldn’t).. No, I was a mess because someone who became a father to me during my time there was PRAYING for me.

 

Now, I have an incredible relationship with my actual father, one that is born out of redemption and forgiveness, because I was angry for a long time after my parents’ separated while I was in high school. I thank God that we have come this far. I value our relationship, I can talk to him about anything, and I miss being with him this year as we travel for missions. But, to my knowledge, my dad doesn’t pray for me like that. He stopped believing and choosing Christ a long time ago. And that is not a dig against him, because he is a loving and wonderful father – I’ve just prayed ever since then that he chooses Jesus again someday.

 

But, I had no idea how much my heart had longed for a father to express that intentionality with me. Enoc not only loves us, hugs us constantly, feeds us cookies 24/7, road trips with us, or teaches us how to work the farm.. He prays for us. He covered us and he lead in being vulnerable and going to God first. He praised with open arms, knelt in surrender, and prayed over his family, his farm, and us. I know that he prayed for us as his daughters, and I know he continues to do so. I felt safe and seen, and in that moment, I knew that this was a father I would have for a lifetime.

 

Thank you for praying over our team, and for praying over me. It means more than I can express to you.

 

Oh and thanks for teaching us to drive stick shift – your patience and excitement when we finally started to get it was one of my favorite memories haha.

 

We love you, Enoc – you’re forever our Panamanian father!