Last week was spent in Talamanca. Talamanca is a region of rainforests and mountains. We spent the week trekking through the jungle to bring encouragement and to pray and worship with local believers in the area. Talamanca is a region that mostly follows the local religions of the area. The pockets of believers are surrounded by witchcraft and spiritual darkness. It was a challenging week spiritually and physically, but it was also a time of seeing the church as as it ought to be, as the hope of the nations.
Since my time there, I’ve sat down to write multiple times. But I’ve had trouble bringing my thoughts to clarity. So I’ve opted for a photo blog instead.
Our first day in Talamanca we carried instruments on our backs for 2 hours into the jungle. We walked along a rocky road for a while, then followed a hill downward into a wall of trees. The air became noticeably darker as we walked into the thicker parts of the rainforest. As soon as we stepped off the road, our rain boots were engulfed by ankle deep mud. As the week progressed this became an ordinary part of our routine. Any houses we visited brought us a few kilometers into the jungle either by foot or in the bed of a pickup truck—usually a mix of the two.
Once we got to each house we would talk and worship with the families. Christians are the minority in Talamanca, so a large part of our vision was to bring encouragement to the local church. Someone would prepare a small word, then we’d play a few early 2000s Hillsong songs in Spanish. We’d sit and talk, then pray together before hiking to the next house. We had some really cool experiences during these house visits. There’s a lot of heartache, but a lot of beauty in Talamanca. We were able to see firsthand what it looked like to mourn with those who mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice.
Our base was nice, but simple. Bats flew out from under our beds on the first night. They stayed above our door after that, eating bugs outside our room for the rest of our time there. We had a kitchen and running water that was filled by a well. On several mornings the water ran out, so one or two of us would make the ten minute hike to the water pump—a well rigged with what looked like a lawnmower motor attached to a series of pipes—and wait while the well refilled. This is a picture of Brandon coming home after working on the motor one of those mornings.
On Our last day we held a kids program while the women on our squad had an event with the women from the community. We gave a message about Daniel and the lions, then played with the kids for a couple hours while their mothers painted and talked with the women from our squad. It was my teams first experience with kids ministry on the Race. I loved seeing the guys joy while playing with the kids. It was a really pure and sweet way to end our week.
That was Talamanca. The Church is small there, but it’s strong. It’s times like these that I see the Church as it is meant to be—the bride of Christ, a city on a hill. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
