Here I am in the beautiful Dominican Republic sitting in a coffee shop, caramel macchiatto at my right and trying to muster enough focus to write this blog. Today I’m wearing red lip stick and a cute dress, and a couple of days ago I was in an old t-shirt and work out pants picking up yard debris and trash hoping the broken glass would miss my unprotected hands (really need to get that tetanus shot…). Ministry looks a little different every day, and each day my heart changes a little bit too.
Last week we worked with some of the kids in the community while the church we’re partnering with held a meeting. I’m sure you have a picturesque idea of us being bombarded with hugs and laughter, but listen, they were terrors for a hot second. It was all we could do to keep them in the yard of the church, they were crazy. Finally I learned how to say “sit down” in Spanish, and by the grace of God they were all in their chairs just staring at us for direction. I silently prayed for peace and guidance, and suddenly the kids all started to play a clapping game. I decided to join in, and they loved teaching me. They laughed at my terrible Spanish and they practiced their english on me, and it was beautiful. In that moment, it was about loving the kiddos that God placed right in front of me. It was about broken Spanglish and giggles and joy. It was about sharing His love, even if we didn’t speak the same language.
A few days later, we had our first off day and love showed up again. We were soaking up some wifi and finishing phone calls to our parents when a couple of my teammates decided to pay someone’s bill at the coffee shop. The guy was totally blown away by it, he told them that he was very wealthy and invited us to a club that he owns, all for free. We politely declined and went our separate ways, but God had other plans. We were on our way to get dinner, and we ran into the same man at the restaurant! He insisted on buying us dinner, and we thanked him and asked if we could pray for him. He said no and began to tell us that he was Hindu and his wife was a Christian, but she died 3 years ago and he had no faith in God. We began to tell him that we loved him and Jesus loves him and we did not run into each other by accident, but by divine appointment. He told us he loved us too, hugged us, and left. We immediately began praying when one of my teammates left. When she came back she said “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t let him leave without telling him how much Jesus loves him.” In that moment an empty man with an abundance of material wealth needed to hear that he mattered. He needed to know that there was more, that he was loved by the Creator of the universe. So love put on hands and feet and did just that.
Ministry looks different every day because God is everywhere. He’s in the countryside where people can’t make it to church because it’s too far away, so Pastor Juan and Team Chosen hop in the minivan and show up with encouraging words and prayer. He’s in the English classroom as the redeemed expose His glory in their testimonies (and holla, 4 teenagers accepted Jesus this Saturday!). He’s in the pack room during team time when one of us breaks down and His love shows up in the form of sisters on all sides interceding for the broken hearted. His love is pouring into every crevice of this place, calling back the lost, the broken, and the forgotten. And in the process He’s changing me too. He’s calling me into freedom. He’s showing me that my identity is secure in Him, I am His child. He has chosen me, he has set me free, and who He sets free is free indeed! This journey is beautiful and messy. It’s life abundantly.
Thank you for being a part of this adventure, I love you!
-Ash
