It’s a typical day on the island of Zapatera near Granada, Nicaragua. Two teams are on the island for four days to help construct a church building. Today we have traveled to a different part of the island I haven’t changed clothes for the last couple of days and oddly, I’m ok with that. There’s sweat pouring off of me, and it’s taking a lot of will power for me to put one foot in front of another. I’ve spent the last couple of days lamenting the lack of sanitation, but right now all I can think about is how heavy the sand is on my shoulder. I shift the weight a little and continue wading through knee deep water to place the sand in the boat. I don’t really even know what the sand is for. We will carry it back to the site and sift it, but no one is really sure why we’re getting it. It helps in the construction, and we trust that the nationals know more than we do about what needs to be done. We just help carry the sand.
I love seeing God move. Watching someone walks out of an addiction, listening to someone share the story of their struggles for the first time, conquering an insecurity- the big moments are fabulous to be a part of. Other times are not so glamorous. Sometimes God asks me to do things that sound crazy. Like having a conversation with a stranger, or going around the world on an 11 month trip. A lot of times I’m not really sure exactly why He’s asking me to do these things. But I do know He’s building a church, and I’m helping haul the sand.
