There was a thickness to the air as we entered the room. The concrete walls hid the brokenness of both building and body. The dusty windows and dirty tile floor reflected the helplessness drenched between the cracks of the old wooden rocking chair and the cheeks of the gentleman we were about to meet. His tube in his throat, his lifeless body stretched across the bed, all he could do, the only function his body could express was tears he poured out of his eyes and the pain his heart visibly expressed. He was broken. He was hurt, and here I was standing before him as an ambassador of Christ, and I too was broken on the inside.
Nicaragua has been amazing so far. We’ve been able to bring tangible visuals of God’s love to this nation. The first week was tiresome physically, but fulfilling spiritually. Here is my team on the village outskirts of the city of Leon, surrounded by beautiful landscape, courageous bats that loved to come in close towards us, roosters that crowed in the early hours of the morning, dog sized iguanas that vacated the treetops. We partnered with Samaritan’s Purse of Canada with making water filters for the local villagers so that their families could have clean water. Now I’ve done laborious work before like small construction with my grandpa or lakeside yard work with my dad. But this was some of the hardest work I’ve ever done in my life. From setting up the metal molds for the filters to making the concrete from scratch (filter sand, water, and cement), it was a grueling process. But it was such an enriching thing to be a part of and spending time with my team under the most beautiful stars I’ve ever seen was some of the most treasured memories I have stored in my heart.
We’re currently coming alongside a small church (no more then 50 people in their congregation) serving the locals through praying for the sick, doing skits for children, (I’m always Jonah, and that means throwing myself everywhere [suffering as a good solider in Christ]), teaching English, cleaning the church, and last but not least in my book, hunting for giant rats.
On one occasion during ministry, we were asked to visit a man’s home to pray for him. Our contact didn’t explain in detail what had happened to him, but as we walked into the metal-roofed home in the pocket of the neighborhood, we soon realized the severity of his injury. Fabriseo, at 45 years of age, fell from his rooftop and suffered a head injury, causing severe paralysis. Breathing from a tube in his throat and surviving by the care of his elderly parents, as soon as his eyes met ours, he began to weep. I’ve asked the Lord for words to explain the storm of emotions my soul was going through as our eyes and heart fixed together. I can’t. Even now my heart grows angry at the reality that this is only a blog and my heart cries for his story to be known; his pain to be felt.
We prayed for him. We cried with him and his parents. And we left.
I have a high view of God’s sovereignty. I am compelled by Scripture, the person and character of Christ, and the Spirit in my heart that God is indeed in control of all things. But there are moments where my confidence in God’s gracious providence slips through the wandering fingertips of my soul, and I find myself asking God, “Why?”
I truly believe that every single follower of Christ, no matter how long they’ve walked down the narrow road, finds themselves confronted with this inevitable dilemma, “Why?” And even with my confidence that I have theological answers to some tough questions through the Word of God, my mind can only bear the burden of such depths of suffering. But one thing I’ve learned, and that I pray it soothes your soul in times of pain and hurt, it’s the reality that God was there before I was.
My heart is but a mere beam of dim light compared to God’s heart that shines infinitely brighter than any sun in the universe. And if my heart breaks for the suffering of this man, does not the heart of the Father of this man break in indescribable ways? I’ve come to realize that I had no idea of Fabriseo until this moment, and yet God knew him before he was formed in the womb? Did not God know him before the foundations of the earth? And because he knows him, does He not know the pain he is going through? I would be an utter fool to believe that God does not love this man and God doesn’t know every single tear he sheds and pain he feels. God relentlessly, passionately, unbelievably loves this man, way before I started loving him, and God will remember this man way after I forget him in the midst of my wandering mind. Jesus loves him. And I have confidence that He makes all things work together for his good, according to His divine, holy, just will. Nothing, even paralysis, can separate the love of God in Christ for this man. And I have hope and peace, knowing Jesus is greater. My prayers for him are heard, his tears and pain are felt, and God is good and knows all things. His thoughts are not my thoughts, His love is far greater for him then mine, and He is faithful to the end.
Jesus Christ is Lord, and the hope of the kingdom of heaven is found in the prayer of a missionary and the tears of a paralyzed man name Fabriseo.
