first day of ministry in Nicaragua started out pretty typical for the
World Race–heading out to visit a community with no idea why we’re
going there or what we’re going to be doing. So we all pile into our transportation for the month, the back of what looks like a cattle
truck, and go flying down the road for about ten minutes. The
scenery along the way is beautiful-large open fields,
brightly-colored flowers, clear blue skies, and a smoking volcano in
the background. We turn off the main road onto a bumpy dirt road
lined with small concrete houses and more fields. Finally, we turn
down another bumpy, dusty dirt road, the only road that leads in and
out of the community we are visiting, Bethel, and immediately, we
sense that there is something different about this place. Most of
the communities we visit on the World Race have a feeling of
heaviness or darkness or brokenness–that’s why we’re there, to
bring hope and light and the gospel. But this place was different.
We jump
off the truck with no instructions from our contact Mario besides
just go walk around the community. So a couple of us head down one
of the streets, and I just can’t get over how different this place
feels. It’s so serene and tranquil. The streets are clean and
people have flowers planted in their yards. There is worship music
coming out of some of the houses we pass. There is a sense of peace
here that I haven’t felt in any other community we’ve been to.
We pass
by one house and wave at the woman working in her yard. She
immediately waves back and invites us over with a huge smile on her
face. We join her and her adult daughter, Mary Elena, for awhile,
just visiting and enjoying each others’ company. Before we leave, we
take time to pray over Mary Elena’s foot–she dropped a brick on it
the day before, and it is swollen and bruised. As we’re praying, I
notice the perfectly done pedicure she has on her toenails and
compliment her on it on our way out. She then tells me that she does
them herself and she will gladly do one for me. I thank her and say
maybe later, assuming she was just being polite.
We head
on down the street and are invited into another yard. Here we meet
another woman and her elderly neighbor. We are greeted with huge
smiles and big bear hugs that seem like they shouldn’t be able to
come form the arms of these two small older ladies. We sit down and
chat for awhile, and they proceed to tell us some of the history of
this community. In 1998,
Hurricane Mitch hit this area hard and washed away entire
communities. With a lack of government infrastructure, the bodies of
everyone who died just laid in the streets, rotting and decaying. The
people in the community were trying to rebuild their lives with the
devastation of the hurricane lingering around them. A pastor in the
community decided to take up their cause and lobbied the government
for new land where they could start over with a new community. They
were given this section of land and began rebuilding with the help of
Vision Nicaragua, the organization we are partnering with this month.
Because of the efforts of this pastor and Vision Nicaragua, this
community was literally built with sacrificial love and prayer and
hope as it’s foundation.
hearing the history of the community, we learn that one of the ladies
has lost all four of her sons, one of her four daughters, and her
husband. Yet despite the trials she has obviously gone through,
there is still such a peacefulness to her presence. We ask to pray
for her, and as we’re praying, she also begins praying. And
crying–the kind of tears that shake your whole body. Even after we
finish praying, she continues to pray. We can feel the deep pain
that she has over what she has lost, and yet her prayer is her over
and over thanking God for his faithfulness and love despite what she
has experienced.
finish praying, another lady comes into the yard wanting to meet us.
She heard about us being there from her sister, the lady we met at
the first house. She tells us that Mary Elena is waiting for me to
give me a pedicure. Apparently, she wasn’t just being polite; she
genuinely wants to give me a pedicure. So we leave with another
round of big bear hugs and head back to the first house. When we get
there, Mary Elena sets up some plastic chairs in the yard and gets
out all of her supplies. For the next forty-five minutes, I am
treated to a full-on pedicure, including washing and massaging my
dusty feet.
It’s
time for us to head out, so we all meet back up and pile into the
back of the truck. As we drive away, all I can think about is the
peace and love that I felt being in that community. It emanates out
of each house and person and floods the streets. It fills the
prayers of a woman who has lost so much and yet continues to be
thankful for what God has given her. It flows through the servant
hands of a woman who is willing to wash a stranger’s dusty feet.
Bethel.
It means “house of God.” In Genesis 28:17, as Jacob is first
giving the name Bethel to a place, he says “How awesome is this
place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of
heaven.” How prophetic, because that’s exactly what the community
of Bethel, Nicaragua is–the house of God, the gate of heaven. God
dwells in that community in such a strong way. The community was
built out of compassion and love for God and others. And now
thirteen years later,
that love fills the community and gives a little taste of heaven to
anyone who goes there.
It’s
amazing what God will do when we ask him to show up, when we invite
him to be our foundation. Lives are changed; entire communities are
changed. My heart is to be an individual “Bethel.” That when
people see me, know me, they will walk away saying there’s something
different about her, there’s a peacefulness and love that just flows
out of her. I want to be a house of God, a gateway for heaven to
come to earth.
