It’s always a bit awkward when you realize you forgot a friend or loved one’s birthday. You feel a bit guilty and then try your best to redeem yourself and make it up to them.
That’s kind of how I feel about blog-posts. I’ve realized that I haven’t done a superb job (or even mediocre) of writing about the ministries I’ve been involved with. So this month, I hope to make it up to you!
So, without further ado, Happy Belated Guatemala!
Guatemala was a tough month.
About 75% of the time we were there it was raining and cold. And when I say raining, I don’t mean a few showers… I mean it rained for days without ceasing. At times, a reoccurrence of the Great Flood didn’t seem too far off.
Our humble abode
So living on a mountain, we definitely had some stir-crazy moments. My team watched an entire season of the Bachelor, huddled in the small one-room church for warmth… or at least shelter. We created nicknames for all of the participants, and put way too much thought into whom we thought Sean should pick.
I took a total of three showers the entire month, because 1) there was no running water on the mountain 2) it was too cold to bathe at the local watering hole.
On our off days we crammed ourselves into a 15-passenger van with 25 other people so that we could use the coveted Internet, western toilets, and sinks with running water in the Pollo Campero of Cobán.
But in the end, I am so thankful that we lived in the mountains of Guatemala. And the stories below will give you a glimpse of why.
Our official ministry was teaching English, Gardening, and Physical Education two days a week at the elementary school in our small mountain village. Because of my knowledge of the Spanish language, I was one of the English teachers.
However, as time went on, we realized that our real ministry was less about teaching, and more about building relationships with the kids as well as being an encouraging presense to the church and community.
This is my friend and student Dora, wearing my glasses.
My relationship with Dora is an example of this. Her and her siblings seemed to have a sixth sense of when I was near them. I would be a half-mile away and they would scream my name. They always seemed to be outside when we walked by their house, and would not let us pass without hugs and attention. They were loud and clingy and demanding, and I loved them.
On one of our final evenings there, when it was pouring down rain, Emily Molloy, Jah-Jah, and myself trekked our way down the mountain to have dinner at Dora’s house. We weren’t exactly excited about the journey through the cold, slippery-wet mess, but we went anyway.
When we arrived, they served us a traditional Guatemalan meal of chicken with soup and rice, and delicious tea. We met her mother and older siblings, and danced and played Frisbee in the house. They showed us old pictures, and we prayed with them and gave them a million hugs.
And when we finally left, we knew that through our simple acts and broken Spanish, we had blessed that family. And in turn they had blessed us.
The pastor we lived with, Luiz, has 9 children- 4 girls and 5 boys. When we first arrived, Marlón would cry if we even looked at him, and the girls would run from us if we got too close. However, time and intentionality changed things.
Some of Pastor Luiz’s children- from left: Marlón (2), Brenda (12), Bianca (5), and Monica (7).
They would speak words in Q'eqchi’ and as we tried to imitate them, joyful giggles sprang forth.
When they cuddled on their box-springs in the morning, I would come tickle them or join them in their snuggling. When we made s’mores over the fire, we made them for the kids too.
I taught them “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes” and they tried to teach me how to count in Q'eqchi’. I let them put flowers in my hair, and they began to let me into their hearts.
Outside the church with Karilyn. The kids adorned our hair with flowers.
(Photo by Jonathan Garner)
And while the girls still loved for us to chase them, the pictures above are proof that they let us catch them and love them.
So… I can't say that our time in Guatemala was easy.
I can't say that I loved the weather, or that our ministry was exciting or glamorous.
But that's okay. In fact, it's more than okay.
I didn't sign up for the World Race because I thought it was an 11-month vacation.
I didn't sign up for it so I could come back with a killer tan.
I didn't sign up to fulfill my desires for excitement and adventure.
I signed up to be the hands of feet of Jesus.
I signed up to get dirty. To live humbly.
To let go of my worldly possessions, and to grab hold of some heavenly ones.
And in Guatemala, I did just that.
